Edge of Tomorrow

by Wolf Wootan

  Sara looked at Syd in amazement and said, “Wow! Good going, gal! I’m glad you remembered! Do you realize that you’re my boss now? You’re everybody’s boss if Winsocki takes orders from you! I’m going to call Jane Forbeson now and brief her. She’ll want to know about Hatch, and I’ll point out you are calling the shots, for now. How’s the doctor getting a plane?”

  “Marty’s going to rent a Lear Jet for him. And I’m not anyone’s boss! I don’t have the knowledge or inclination to get involved in any of Hatch’s businesses. I just want this doctor to fix him up—now!”

  “Just stay calm, Syd. It’s great that the doctor may be on his way! Let me give Jane a buzz, then I think one of us should tell Karen and Carmelo what’s happening.”

  “Oh, shit! I forgot all about them! How self-centered of me!” moaned Syd.

  “I’ll take care of it, then let’s get out of this fucking hospital for awhile! There’s nothing we can do until that doctor gets here. We both need a stiff drink!”

  • • •

  Sara and Syd were sitting in a cocktail lounge not too far from the hospital when Marty called Syd and reported that the doctor was airborne. Dr. Brent was conferring by phone with Dr. Jenkins, telling him everything he needed when he arrived. Marty had called Jenkins and authorized any expenditures necessary to get the equipment or people Dr. Brent needed. Syd had thanked Marty profusely.

  “You’re a sweetheart, Marty!”

  “Now, no one ever called me that before,” he chuckled before he hung up.

  “It’s happening, Sara! Dr. Brent is on the way! Hatch tried to lecture me once on the power that money gave him, but I never understood him until now,” said Syd. “What did Jane Forbeson have to say?”

  Sara sipped her drink and replied, “She’s really upset. She said to tell you that she will do anything you ask if she can help. She’s another one of us gals who love your fiancé, you know. Karen and Carmelo are crushed, too, and send their love. Karen wants to talk to you as soon as you’re up to it.”

  Syd took a long pull on her Stoli on the rocks and motioned to the waiter. He came over to their table.

  “Yes, ma’am?” he asked.

  “Hit us again, and could you bring me a pack of cigarettes? Anything with a filter,” asked Syd.

  “Certainly,” he said as he headed toward to the bar.

  “Maybe we should try and eat something before we go back to the hospital. Their food sucks, and it will be awhile before Dr. Brent gets here,” said Sara.

  The waiter arrived with their fresh drinks and Syd’s cigarettes. She opened them and took one out, and the waiter lit it for her. He dropped a pack of matches on the table as he left. Syd took a deep drag and exhaled slowly.

  “Maybe you’re right, Sara. I’m not hungry, but I know I have to eat something.”

  “It looks weird seeing you smoke.”

  “It feels good right now,” said Syd as she took another drag, then she added, “I’m scared shitless, Sara!”

  “So am I, Syd!”

  • • •

  Syd and Sara met Dr. John Brent in the hospital waiting room. He was short and gaunt with thinning, gray hair. A narrow mustache adorned his upper lip, and his blue eyes bored into Syd’s as he took her hand with a firm grip.

  “Doctor, you have to save him!” blurted Syd, tears welling up in her eyes again.

  “I’ll do my best, Ms. Steppe. I’m going to look at the X-rays now and see what I’m up against,” he replied in a voice that was deeper than Syd had expected.

  “Thank you for coming so quickly!” Syd continued with emotion.

  “Your Mr. Winsocki made an offer I could hardly refuse,” he chuckled. “Relax please. I’ll talk to you again shortly and tell you what we can do.”

  He and Dr. Jenkins left the waiting room, leaving Syd and Sara to suffer along with the other poor souls waiting for word on the status of their loved ones.

  Syd led Sara to the outside atrium so she could have a cigarette. Her nerves were stretched like a rubber band and were about to snap. Sara tried to stop her from pacing, but Syd could sit no longer, so she continued pacing and smoking for five or so minutes. Then she dragged Sara back into the waiting room and stared at the paintings on the wall.

  “These paintings are terrible! How can a person feel relaxed with shit like this to look at?” exclaimed Syd.

  “Here, sit, Syd! I know you’re coming out of your fucking skin—so am I! Ah! Here comes Dr. Brent!” said Sara.

  Dr. Brent said, “I’m going to give this a try, though it’s very tricky. I won’t go into medical jargon to snow you. In simple terms, I have to remove the bullet from next to his heart, repair a tear in the heart muscle, and patch the holes in his lung. This operation will take at least four hours, maybe longer, so why don’t you leave a number where I can reach you, and go and get some rest. We’ll call you when there is something to tell you—one way or the other.”

  He spun around and left them again. Syd suddenly had a sharp pain behind her eyes as she remembered the horrible dream she had in Syros: Death riding a pale horse, coming for Hatch, and her battle to save him. How did it end? Had she won? Or lost? She could not remember anything after she charged Zeus on the mountain top, screaming like a banshee.

  I did destroy Death and steal his horse! Have I done all I can do now? What else can I possibly do? Please, God, help him! Help me! What should I do?

  “Come on, Syd. Let’s go find a place to wait,” said Sara, touching Syd’s elbow. “This fucking hospital is driving me crazy!”

  Sara was hurting almost as much as Syd. Her life had revolved around Hatch for several years. She could not comprehend daily life without him.

  “Where can we go, Sara? I want to stay close by—in case they call.”

  “There’s a hotel a few blocks away where we put up visiting dignitaries. Let’s grab a room there and take a shower. I’ll call Mrs. C. and have her send us a change of clothes over in the chopper, then have Packy pick them up and bring them to us. I’ll get Packy to drive us over to the hotel right now. He’s standing by outside,” replied Sara.

  “Thanks, Sara. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I moved most of my stuff to my new condo today. I’ll give Packy my key so he can get me some stuff from there.”

  Sara called Packy on her Blue Phone and told him where to meet them. They walked out through the atrium, through a gate, and into the parking lot. Packy drove up in a Lincoln Town Car. He stopped it, then jumped out and held the back door for them. They briefed him on Hatch’s status, and what the doctor was doing. He drove them to the hotel Sara had mentioned and again opened the door for them.

  As they left the car, Sara said to Packy, “Packy, the chopper will be bringing some clothes for me from Klaus Haus. Can you go to the airport and meet it, then run the stuff over to us, please? In the meantime, you can get Syd some stuff from her condo.”

  “Glad to, Sara. I need to be doing something. This waiting is the shits!” he replied.

  • • •

  When they closed the hotel room door behind them, they both sank onto the couch and sighed.

  “This fucking situation sucks,” exhaled Sara.

  “It’s worse than that,” replied Syd. “Do you mind if I shower first? My skin is crawling.”

  “Go ahead, Syd. I’ll call Mrs. C. now, and then let the hospital know where we are.”

  • • •

  Three hours later, they were both showered and dressed in clean clothes from the skin out. They both felt a little better, but not much. Syd was pacing again.

  “Sara, are we doing everything we can? I feel so helpless!” Syd groaned.

  “You got Hatch the best doctor in the fucking world for this kind of problem. I don’t know what else to do.”

  “I keep thinking, ‘What would Hatch do if things were reversed?’ He always knew just what to do about any situation. I think he would track down the bastard who did it and blow his friggin’ brains out! I don’t even
know how to start doing that,” Syd continued.

  “That’s something we can kick around. I’d sure like to get my hands on the asshole!” exclaimed Sara. “Let’s see how this operation goes, then we can focus on that. I can’t think right now!”

  “Me either, and it pisses me off! I can’t take anymore of this! It’s been nearly four hours. Call Packy. I want to get back to the hospital!”

  • • •

  When they got back to the hospital, a nurse told them Hatch was still in the OR. Syd went to the small chapel and tried to talk with God again. She had not done that in years. She had been there fifteen minutes when Sara came and got her.

  “A nurse told me that the doctor wants to talk to us in five minutes.”

  They hurried back to the waiting room and this time they both paced nervously. The doctor finally arrived and made them sit again.

  “He came through the procedure well,” he said in his deep voice. “He is very weak, of course, and the next twelve hours will give us a better indication of how things will turn out.”

  Syd blurted emotionally, “But … he’s alive?”

  “Yes, very much so. We have him on life support for now, because I gave him a coma-inducing drug to keep him very still while he begins the healing process. We wouldn’t want him coughing or something, would we? Might tear all my fine work loose,” he chuckled.

  “Can I see him?” pleaded Syd.

  “He is being moved to ICU now.” He looked at his watch. “They should have him settled in twenty minutes or so. You can see him for a few minutes then. I’m going to keep him this way for at least 72 hours, then we’ll see.”

  “Thank you, doctor!” exhaled Syd.

  • • •

  Seeing Hatch did little to relieve Syd’s apprehension. He had a breathing tube in his mouth, several IV leads feeding a needle inserted in a vein in his arm, and was attached to several machines displaying every possible vital sign. Syd noticed that the heart monitor seemed normal—at least, not a flat line.

  Sara exclaimed, “He looks like shit! Are you sure he’s OK?”

  Dr. Brent frowned and replied, “Hopefully, he will improve in time, and his color will get better. Keep me informed as to your whereabouts and I will call you if there is any change.”

  Syd said, “You’re going to stay here until he’s out of danger, aren’t you?”

  He smiled, “Yes, Ms. Steppe. The arrangement Mr. Winsocki and I arrived at included that.”

  Good old Marty! He doesn’t leave anything open to renegotiation!

  “Where are his personal belongings?” asked Syd.

  The ICU nurse answered, “His clothes were cut off him, of course, but the contents of his pockets are in a box in this closet.”

  She opened the closet and Syd took the box and looked in it. His Blue Phone and pager were there, along with his wallet, a ring of keys—she had never seen him use a key before—a handkerchief, some loose change, half a pack of cigarettes, and his Zippo lighter. She put all of it into her large purse. She took a pen and notepad and wrote down the series of digits which would activate Hatch’s pager. She handed it to Dr. Brent.

  “This will page me wherever I am in the world. Please call me about anything! Anything at all!” said Syd, her voice cracking.

  The doctor put the paper in his pocket and said he would. Sara and Syd left the ICU and Packy drove them back to their hotel.

  Sara said, “Syd, dear, there’s nothing we can do here for three days—maybe longer. Let’s go back to Klaus Haus for now. We have a better support system there. We’re only minutes away by chopper if they call us. What do you say?”

  Syd thought a moment, then replied, “You’re right, Sara. Let’s check out of here and go home.”

  Sara noticed her use of the word “home.” That’s what they did.

  • • •

  Back at Klaus Haus, Syd calmed down a little and remembered she had not called Hatch’s parents. At least, she had a glimmer of hope to offer them, which she did not have five hours before. They were crushed, of course, and said they would call Hatch’s brother, Vernon, in Los Angeles, and that they would get to the hospital as soon as they could.

  Syd had said to the General, “Yes, you may want to do that, even though he’s in a coma. I don’t want you driving. Where’s the nearest heliport? I’ll send the chopper to pick you up.”

  The General replied quickly, “Thanks, Sydney. I don’t feel much like driving. How are you holding up?”

  “Not well, General. Not good at all. I hate this waiting!”

  She made arrangements for the chopper to go pick up the Lincolns and take them to Miami, then bring them to Klaus Haus after they visited the hospital. She insisted that they stay at Klaus Haus for awhile. There was plenty of room, and Mrs. C. had prepared a suite for their use.

  Syd did not realize how easily she had fallen into the role of giving orders and arranging things. Everyone did her bidding without question. When all the calls had been made, Syd and Sara settled in to comfortable leather loungers in the library. Mrs. C. had Eddie roll in a portable bar so they could help themselves to drinks, which they did. It was 8:30 P.M. by then, and Mrs. C. urged them to let her fix them a light supper, and they agreed.

  Syd said to Sara, “I couldn’t believe it when that courier showed up at 7 o’clock with my Blue Phone and pager! That Marty is something else! And doesn’t spare expense when it comes to security! I doubt if there was a more expensive way to send that stuff. The courier probably flew first class, too!”

  “I guess I don’t blame him. These phones have cutting edge technology, and I know Hatch is paranoid about any outsider getting hold of one to take apart,” replied Sara as she sipped on her drink.

  “Sara, we need to find out who is behind this assassination attempt, but I don’t have a clue as to where to start. I need your help on this.”

  Sara put her drink down on the table between their two loungers and replied, “We’re not the cops, but we have enormous resources at our disposal.”

  “But I don’t know what they are, or how to use them!” groaned Syd.

  Sara answered, “I could list some and we could develop a strategy, but since you have access to Martin Winsocki, it might be better to talk to him first. He knows exactly where all our resources are and how to use them. I know Hatch always used to give him complex things to get done. There are things in Hatch’s empire that even I don’t know about.”

  “I wonder how the cops are doing on the helicopter ID. I suspect they would never tell me. This is way bigger than the cops, anyway. The FBI should be handling this! I think you’re right about Marty. He might have some idea about who wants Hatch dead, too. Hatch could have all sorts of enemies in the corporate world that I’ve never heard of. Let’s make a list of things we’d like to know. Then, tomorrow I’ll call him and see what happens.”

  Eddie arrived with a tray of sandwiches and a tureen of hot tomato soup and set up folding trays in front of them so they could eat in comfort. They thanked him and he left them alone.

  Sara said, “Would you look at that? I never get used to this! Mrs. C. cut the fucking crusts off the bread for these sandwiches, and there’s a sprig of parsley! She’s something else! I know she’s as devastated over this as we are, but she keeps that British stiff upper lip!”

  “Keeping busy is the key to surviving this. That’s what we’re going to do,” said Syd as she reached for a triangle of an egg salad sandwich. “I feel as if I’ve grabbed onto a tornado and can’t turn loose!”

  Chapter 40

  Klaus Haus, Florida

  Sunday, September 2, 2001

  8:00 A.M.

  The next morning at 8:00 A.M., Syd called the hospital and checked with the head ICU nurse and got a “No Change” report on Hatch. She joined Mrs. C. and Sara in the dining room where breakfast was being served, but having no appetite, settled for coffee with a bagel, cream cheese, and strawberry jam. She whipped out her Blue Phone and called the Tr
iple Eye chopper pilot for a status on the General and Carrie Lincoln. They were to arrive at Klaus Haus about lunch time. Syd discussed lunch possibilities with Mrs. C. and they arrived at a menu. Syd then called Marty Winsocki. It took less than 45 seconds for him to come on the line even though he was at home.

  “Good morning, Marty! Thank you for interrupting your busy schedule for me, Marty,” cooed Syd when he answered.

  “You don’t have to lay the syrupy shit on me, Syd,” he chuckled. “Besides, it’s Sunday. I was just reading the funny papers. You name it, I’ll do it if I can.”

  “Well, Marty! No ‘Good morning, Syd?’”

  “OK. Good morning, Syd. How may I help you?”

  “You didn’t even ask about Hatch! What kind of man are you, Marty?” Syd asked, peeved.

  “A well-organized, albeit busy man. I get an update on Hatch every two hours from the ICU. I know you’re climbing out of your skin, but don’t take it out on me. I’m not the enemy, and I’ve been looking out for Hatch long before you were. Right now, my job is to help you, so let’s cut to the chase. You have something in mind?”

  Syd gulped, took a deep breath, and said, “I’m sorry, Marty! Please forgive me! I want to be doing something, and don’t know how. In the past, I’m sure Hatch has done a search for a terrorist—or somebody. How does he go about it? I want to find the bastard who shot him!”

  There was a fifteen-second silence, then Marty said, “Are you willing to come here and meet with me? We can lay out a plan. There’s not much you can do down there today. Just grab Hatch’s GS-V and we’ll have a late lunch together and kick things around.”

  Syd suddenly felt a little better. She would be doing something, and maybe Marty could give her some guidance.

  “How do I commandeer Hatch’s plane?”

  “I’ve sent a message to everyone who needs to know about your status; that includes the captain of the GS-V. Just call him and let him know what your plans are. He’ll do the rest. I’ll have a car meet you at the Richmond Airport here. I’ll go into the office. I’ve been dying to see the woman who finally lassoed Hatch!”