by Bruce Cooke
These thoughts ran through her head as she came to an intersection. She had the green light and proceeded across the road. She didn’t even see the car until the last moment.
A big SUV came across the road against the red light and hit her car midsection. The last thing she knew was the blackness that over took her.
* * * *
The police arrived quickly, and the apologetic driver told them that Pipa ran a red light and it was just a terrible accident. An ambulance arrived and transported her unconscious body to the hospital. On arrival, she was inspected for injuries and placed in a separate private room to see if she was responding. No broken bones, but the head injury was a worry. Still unconscious, she had tubes and wires attached, and oxygen was inserted in her nose to make sure she could breathe.
The doctor checked her and shook his head. “If she regains consciousness, let me know straight away.”
The nurse nodded and made her as comfortable as she could. A monitor showed her blood pressure was okay and her heart was behaving properly. She was listed as critical.
* * * *
Scott watched TV and sat up when the news bulletin came on.
The reader looked serious as he gave out the newsflash. “Top reporter Pipa Barret was involved in a serious accident today when her car collided with another. She is still alive but in a serious condition in the Canberra hospital. The police are investigating the cause of the crash. In other news—”
Scott stood up and stared at the TV. “Bastards,” he said and picked up the phone. He dialled the hospital number and waited.
“Canberra Hospital. How can I help you?”
“I’m just inquiring about Pipa Barrett. How is she?”
“Are you a relative, sir?”
“No, just a friend.”
“Miss Barret is in a serious condition, and the doctors can’t comment until she regains consciousness.”
“Okay, thank you,” he said and replaced the phone. At least she was still with us, but for how long?
He suspected it was no accident, and they wanted her dead. That evening, he put on a pair of glasses and made up a small moustache from his hair. He found a baseball cap and placed that on his head and inspected his appearance.
It will have to do.
He left for the hospital. When he arrived in a taxi, he entered the hospital, making sure he was not conspicuous. He went to the desk and smiled at the receptionist. “Good evening. I’m here to find out Miss Barrett’s room. An admirer wants to send her flowers.”
“Of course, but she can’t have visitors at this stage. She’s in room eighty-eight.”
Scott tipped his cap and left the desk, making his way to the elevator.
* * * *
Creswick sat with Pallister as they watched the news. “So she is still alive.”
“Looks like it. They said she is in a serious condition and still unconscious.”
“So what do we do now?” Creswick asked.
“See to it she doesn’t wake up. A simple injection into her drip should do it.”
Creswick grinned. “Easy, I’ll send a man.” He reached for his phone.
* * * *
Scott passed a change room for doctors and interns and entered to find it empty. He found a white coat and a stethoscope in a locker and quickly slipped on the white coat and placed the stethoscope around his neck. Then he walked down the aisle until he found room eighty-eight. He opened the door to see Pipa lying in the bed in the darkened room. Quickly, he eased himself into a chair and moved it into the darkness of the room. Anyone walking in would not see him.
Half an hour later, the door opened, and a man dressed in a doctor’s coat entered, unaware of Scott’s presence. He picked up her file and studied it, then took out a syringe, holding it up to the dim light coming in from the window. He moved to the drip that was fixed to her arm and started to inject the syringe into the saline mix. Scott came up behind him and held his gun against his head. The man froze.
“And just what are you injecting into her?” Scott asked, taking the syringe from the man’s hand.
“I’m her doctor and just giving her something to bring her out of her unconscious state.” Sweat appeared on his forehead.
“So this is harmless?” said Scott, not believing one word.
“Of course. Who are you?”
“Someone who is looking out for her. On your knees.”
The man dropped to his knees, and Scott stuck the needle into his neck.
The man’s eyes opened wide, and straight away, froth began to form in his mouth. He dropped to the floor, and Scott checked his breathing. Nothing showed.
Powerful stuff.
Scott walked out into the passage to see a trolley against the wall. He wheeled it into the room and lifted the man onto it and placed a sheet over him. He pushed it out into the passage and down the end of it, leaving the man lying there. He returned to the room and saw Pipa starting to stir. She opened her eyes and tried to sit up.
“Don’t move,” said Scott, placing his hand on her forehead.
“What happened?” she asked, staring into his eyes.
“They tried to kill you, and when that didn’t happen, they sent someone to inject you.”
Her face was pale. “What happened then?”
“Luckily, I was sitting in the back of the room and stopped him. How do you feel?”
“Fine now. No broken bones, but I have a headache.”
“I have to get you out of here before they come back.”
“How can you do that? I can’t just walk out.”
“Your clothes are in the wardrobe. Get dressed if you can, and we’ll just walk out of the door. I’ll take you back to my place, and you will spend a few days in bed if you have to.”
* * * *
She knew he was right. If they tried once then they will try again. She was a little unsteady on her feet, so Scott helped her dress.
“Now we will walk out like lovers with my arm around your waist. Just smile if you can until we get outside.”
She gripped his hand tightly and did as he asked. The aisle was empty, so they went to the elevator and moved to the ground floor. No one took any notice of them as Scott had his arm around her waist and smiled at her. He leaned over her and gently kissed her like any lover would. Once outside, he hailed a taxi and had him drive to the house, letting them off a hundred meters from the front door. They struggled to the house where he placed her on the bed and sat beside her.
“The bastards know we are onto them. They want to silence you. The man they sent was dressed as a doctor and was about to inject something into your saline drip. I stopped him and gave him a dose of his own medicine. He dropped immediately and began to froth in his mouth. Must have been potent stuff.”
“You saved my life,” she said, tears appearing in her eyes.
“You have done the same for me. Better ring your boss and tell him what’s happened.”
“Can you pass me the phone?”
He nodded and handed it to her.
Chapter 11
Fred picked it up immediately. “Scarla.”
“Fred, it’s me.”
“My God, are you okay?”
“I am now thanks to Scott. They tried to kill me. When the car crash didn’t succeed, they sent someone to the hospital to inject me with something. Scott saved me, but they will now be looking for me.”
“I thought you were still in the hospital.”
“Scott got me out before they tried again. They will probably ring you to see if I have contacted you.”
“The hospital doesn’t know you’re gone?”
“They probably do now.”
“Okay, here’s what I will do. When they ring, I’ll tell them you rang me and wanted an extended leave. You said you are going interstate for a few weeks and will be out of contact.”
“But you don’t know which state?”
“Not my business if a staff member wants to go on a holiday, is
it?”
“Love you, Fred. I’ll be in touch.”
“Be careful, Pipa. You’re very precious to quite a few people.”
“Thanks, Fred. Talk later.”
Next morning, Fred had two visitors. His receptionist rang him and said two Federal Police were here.
“Send them in,” said Fred and got up from his chair with his hand out to greet them. “Gentlemen, what do I owe this visit?”
“Have you heard from Pipa Barret lately?”
“Why, yes, she rang me last night and said she had been discharged and wanted extended leave.”
“Did she say where she was going?” one of the police asked.
“She did mention interstate for a holiday but not sure which state. Is there a problem?”
“No, she discharged herself without telling the hospital staff. They are worried about her with a head injury.”
“My God. You mean she just walked out? What sort of security does the hospital have?”
“Not their fault. She just decided she wanted out.”
“Then if she rings again, I’ll let you know.”
“You do that, Mr Scarla. What was she working on before her accident?”
“She said she had an interest in the assassination of the cleric. Pipa never gives me any details until she has finished her investigation. She’s a first-class reporter.”
As soon as they left, Fred sat back and frowned. He knew she was in great danger but didn’t know what to do about it.
* * * *
“Everything okay?” asked Scott when she hung up.
She nodded. “He’s a love. He’s going to tell them I’ve gone interstate for a holiday.”
“That won’t stop them.”
“I know, but we have to work out a strategy to handle this.”
Scott shook his head. “It’s hard to fight city hall. Have you ever been to the Middle East?”
“Why the Middle East?”
“I still have a few contacts there, and we can investigate the money trail. If we can show it went to Pallister and Creswick then that might do it.”
“Good idea, but how do we get there?”
“Let me think of that for a while. You just get some rest. Head injuries are dangerous at any time.”
Pipa took his hand. “Come closer.”
He did, and she stared into his eyes.
“Thank you for what you did. It was dangerous for you, and you didn’t have to do it.”
“Yes, I did.”
She pulled his head down and kissed him passionately. The touch of his lips ran another shudder down her spine. She broke the kiss and stroked the side of his face. “I’m getting very fond of you.”
He grinned. “That’s encouraging. I kind of like you, too. Maybe we can still have that dinner once we clean all this up.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
* * * *
Pallister was even more furious. “She got away.”
“Yes, but it seems she is with Peters. He must have been the one who stopped her murder. Who else could interfere?”
“Do you believe her boss that she has skipped town?” Pallister asked.
“Not sure. He seemed genuine but would want to protect his prize reporter. We have people watching all the borders in case they are making a run for it.”
“Where the hell are they hiding?” Pallister didn’t like mistakes.
“I have no idea, but maybe Halpin might have an idea. He was banging her for a while,” Creswick suggested.
“Have a talk with him. He might come up with something.”
Creswick left the office to seek out Halpin. He found him in the room where people went for a coffee or a meal. Halpin was alone.
“You heard about Barret?”
“Yes, it must have been a horrible accident.”
“It was no accident. The bitch survived, and we have to find her and Peters. We think they are together.”
“You actually tried to kill her?” Greg seemed shocked.
“Listen. You are in this as much as we are. If she finds proof of what happened, your neck is on the block just as ours are.”
Greg stared at Creswick. “So what are we going to do?”
“When you were banging her, did she ever tell you of a hiding place where she could slip away for a while?”
“No. We always went back to her place.”
“Did she have any other friends?”
“She had a few friends, but not male friends, if that is what you mean.”
“Make a list of who she saw as friends and get it back to me. It might show us where she is hiding.”
“And then what?”
“She will have to disappear along with Peters. Today, if possible.”
He left Greg thinking of any of Pipa’s friends who might help her.
* * * *
Pipa had made a big improvement in the following two days. She was now up and alert and felt pleased she was still alive. Scott made her sit at the table while he set out a few of his notes.
“Feel up to a little trip?” he asked, spreading out a map.
“You have found a way of getting to Afghanistan?”
“Yes, at least I think so. I have an old buddy who I worked with and is a whiz at forging papers. I’m going to see if he can make up a couple of fake passports for us. Do you have your present one?”
“In my bag.”
He held out his hand, and she passed it over. “You haven’t been overseas much, have you?”
“Two trips to Europe five years ago. I was on a holiday at the time.”
“If he will help us then you and I are going as a married couple. It means we will have to sleep in the same room.”
She smiled. “I can live with that. Staying hidden here is no option, is it?”
“No. If they are smart, they will be trying to trace all you friends who may be hiding us. The sooner we get out of here, the better.”
“When will you see your friend?”
“Tonight and you are coming with me.”
“Like a wife,” she said, smiling at the thought.
“Like a wife. As soon as it gets dark, we go.”
“Good, it’s getting boring here.”
At eight that night, they left the house in the cover of darkness. Scott knew where he was going and came to an isolated house outside Canberra. Having to use a taxi was inconvenient, but they had no choice.
“Who are we seeing?” she asked once the taxi left.
“His name is Brian Harrison. He was in my unit but left before I did.”
They could see a light on in the house and waited for their knock to be answered.
Brian opened the door and stood with his mouth open. “Well, stuff me. I thought you’d be dead by now.”
“If the government had their way, I would be. This is Pipa.”
“The reporter. Come in. I guess you have a tale to tell me.” He closed the door and led them into his house. “I presume you have been set up.”
“Spot on. It’s a conspiracy of the worst type.”
He grinned. “You know me. I always like a good story.”
Scott laid out everything that had happened as Brian sat listening.
“Pettigrew got the chop.”
“Yes, I tried to warn him, but they couldn’t leave any trace of their dirty deed.”
“It said you killed him and his mates.”
Scott smirked. “They would, wouldn’t they? I need a favour.”
“If I can. Never trusted those bastards.”
“We need to get to Afghanistan to follow the lead on the money. To do that, we need new passports. Knowing how clever you are, I thought you might help out.”
“Love to. I have a few blank passports in my drawer.”
Pipa stared at him. “You do this for a living?”
“My Army pension isn’t great.”
Scott handed over Pipa’s passport and said he didn’t have his own.
“No problem
. I can take a couple of passport photos and give you another name. Any preference?”
“I suppose Smith is a bit old-fashioned.”
Brian laughed. “I think I can do better than that. It will take me a couple of hours, so make yourself comfortable while I get to work. Wear a pair of glasses and use a fake moustache. Pipa, you dye your hair.”
“You have no wife here?” asked Pipa curiously.
“Hell no. You know the old saying, why buy a book when you can join a library?”
They sat in his living room and waited for him to complete his work. Pipa dyed her hair to a dark black after walking to a nearby chemist. He took their photos and returned to his work room.
Two hours later, he came in and handed them their new passports. “You’re Mr. and Mrs. Carrington. Scott, you are Harold. Pipa, you are Sarah.”
Both stared at the photos and were impressed.
“You’re a genius, Brian. I owe you.”
“You saved my skin in Afghanistan twice, so you owe me nothing.”
“I guess I’d better ring for a taxi,” said Scott, placing his passport into his pocket.
Brian reached for a set of keys hanging on the kitchen wall.
“I drive a fairly new Honda, but you can use my old Holden. When you go, leave it in the long-term car park. I’ll ring in and say it’s been stolen.”
“Thanks, mate,” said Scott and took the keys. “Time to leave.”
Once in the car, Pipa turned to Scott. “Where are we going now?”
“Back home. We need to pack our few possessions and get to Afghanistan.”
Chapter 12
Greg came into Creswick’s office at ten the next morning with a slip of paper in his hand.
“What have you got?” Creswick asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I thought about her friends and could only come up with four. I checked three out but couldn’t locate the fourth.”