^^^^
George knew he was taking a big risk going into the cryo-lab while everything was so hectic above him. But it was a big risk he had to take. He could feel in his gut suspicion was rising. Joe, Henry, and Dean with their hidden investigation. The body that they had in the lab. To bring it in during the middle of the night, with Henry lying that it was a council thing, meant it had to do with George.
And Ellen with the passwords. He wondered how she figured out two already. George didn’t even realize they were going after those files yet. But with two uncovered he had to make his move.
First things first--the password. The main password to the four files that would give Beginnings every bit of information they needed to kick George out, or worse, kill him. That password had to be changed. With the instructions that Jeffrey had written laid out in front of him, George went into the computer. He entered the correct password then began to change it. To what? He saw the dictionary sitting next to the computer. No, she’s not. He thought, and then he saw the bookmark. Ellen was going through page by page. Flipping the pages to just about center, George blindly pointed to a word. How fitting that his index finger would land on that one. The fatal word that would unlock the file and trigger the destruction program George was getting ready to load. The word that would make them smile when they realized the information it unlocked. Information that their eyes would only lay upon for three minutes. Three minutes before the information disappeared along with anyone who was still reading it when the time was up.
How long would it take Ellen to get to the ‘M’s’, George wondered. Weeks, a month, but not long. George knew as soon as Ellen got there, as soon as Ellen typed in the word ‘murder,’ it was over. George would never be found out. His secret would lay buried along with Ellen and whoever else was in the cryo-lab with her.
George thought as he changed the password about just erasing the file. Erasing his secret. But what fun would there be in that? Letting them find him out, meant letting them die. Ellen was one of the people in Beginnings he just didn’t want around when he took over everything. Ellen was one . . . Joe was another.
Tapping his fingers, George watched the indicator on the computer tell him the destruction program was nearly loaded. A few more moments and it would be complete. Then it would be time to set his other plan in motion. It was time, George knew, for Joe.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Son of a bitch, he’s right,” Joe spoke to himself as he sat alone in his office. He read the actually detailed note Frank left him on what they needed to do. Joe lifted his coffee mug to his lips, remembering vividly his and Frank’s argument the night before. Frank had taken down two more SUTs all while Beginnings celebrated their day. That totaled twenty-nine so far, and it was too many.
Beginnings relaxed for a little since Colorado, and it was time to move on. Time to hit New Mexico. Time to erase the rest of the problem that originally started in the tunnels of Beginnings.
He’d call a meeting with Frank. If anything, Frank could set it up, get together the men, and plan their attack. Joe felt bad for blowing Frank off, making him feel like he was over reacting. The truth was, Joe just wasn’t in the mood for Frank’s rambling. He wasn’t feeling up to it. Perhaps it was the fact that New Mexico was all Frank talked about. There weren’t any niceties at all. Frank treated his father like a co-worker rather than his father .Not listening to a word he said just added more fuel to Joe’s fire.
But Joe heard it, and it sunk in. It was time to tell Frank he was right. Maybe by doing that, they could start to mend some fences.
As he lifted the radio from his desk, Joe heard the creak behind him. He thought it odd, so early in the morning. He knew he was alone. Chuckling to himself, thinking it one of Henry’s ghosts, Joe picked up the radio.
No words came from his mouth. It happened before he knew it. A sharp pinch in the back of his neck, and a burning heaviness flowed through his blood stream--Joe could not move. The radio dropped from his hand.
He fought it. He fought with everything he had. Trying to turn his head was a chore. It felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds. Grasping the desk as much as his fingers could, Joe tried to lift himself up. Barely a foot above his chair, he felt whatever it was, move within his body. It felt like his whole being had just been injected with Novocain.
Dear God! Joe lifted his hand, fingers numb, head pounding, thoughts racing. My blood pressure. Dear God, am I having a stroke? No!
He reached for the radio again, but couldn’t grasp it. Arms that had lost control plowed down to his side. His balance was lost, his legs gave way, and Joe fell without control down to the floor. He tried to call out. His mouth wouldn’t open and he saw a view he had never thought he’d see in his life. A view of helplessness, fallen, unable to move, unable to call out, with the side of his face pressed hard to the linoleum floor of his office.
As he lay there, fear raced through his mind. It was a terrible fear that fate had dealt him such a cruel hand as to strike him down to such a helpless state. Then he heard it…whispering voice deep in his ear. A voice so close to a body so numb, Joe couldn’t feel the breath as he spoke.
“It’s the end of your era, Joe Slagel.”
George!
“I brought you down, Joe. Down in a way better than killing you.” George taunted. “You’d rather be dead than watch your community, this piece of weak shit you run, fall apart. Or watch your people, family, fall. You’d rather be dead, than do that, wouldn’t you, Joe?”
‘No! He didn’t do this to me. Son of a bitch, I let him do this’. Joe could only think the words he wanted to say.
“Guess what? You’ll watch it all and you won’t be able to do anything about it. I could kill you right now. But I’d rather let you see it happen. Who knows, I might need your advice.” George laughed. “Right now, and anytime I first inject you, I control you.”
Joe’s left eye, the only one that could see above the floor, watched as George’s shoes moved to right in front of him.
“And I control you now. I even control when you open and close your eyes. Bye Joe.” George reached down his hand.
Joe lay silent, unable to fight, to scream. Without feeling the hand he saw, he watched the room turn black.
^^^^
Ellen clutched the stronger pain medication in her hand as she made it to the door of Joe’s office. It was a pain medication that would help with the headaches, plus a relaxant for his nerves. Ellen felt so strongly it couldn’t be Joe’s blood pressure. It had to be stress causing his not feeling well. Joe was too healthy and strong. Aside from the smoking, he took good of care of his body.
As Ellen knocked on Joe’s door, she knew he was in there. Henry told her Joe would be there all morning. “Joe? I have something for you.” She opened the door to his office. An empty desk gave her a bad feeling. Her eyes caught a glimpse and the moment she saw Joe, her hand gripped so tight to the bottle of medication, it shattered in the palm of her hand. “Oh my God! Joe!” Racing to him, she dropped to the floor
Joe heard her. ‘Thank God. Ellen. Ellen. Get help.’
“Please be all right. Please be all right.” She felt his pulse then rolled him over and laid her hand on his face. “Joe.” Immediately her chest felt heavy. She saw the blood on the right side of his forehead. “Did you fall? I have to get help.” Trying to hold up his head, Ellen reached for the radio, stretching as far as she could so as not to leave Joe. She gripped it with relief. “Frank.” No response. “Frank please.”
“El, don’t fuckin’ call me on the . . .”
“Frank, it’s Joe. Hurry to his office. Something’s happened to him. Hurry!” She switched the channel on the radio, her hand stinging from the cuts she had on it, the cuts from Joe’s medication bottle. Then it hit her. Medication. Joe had been sick. His blood pressure high. She immediately elevated his head more. “Dean, come in.”
Dean heard the desperation in her voice. “What’s wrong?”
“Dean, something’s happened to Joe. I found him on his office floor.”
“Is he hurt?” Dean worried. The first thought that come to his mind was George.
“No.” She tapped her fingers harshly on the back of his wrist, no response, no movement. “Dean, I think he’s had a stroke.”
Dean’s heavy breath could be heard. “We’ll be ready for him. Keep his head up.”
“I got . . .” She heard the door open. “We’ll be right there.”
“El.” Frank saw her holding his father. “El . . .” He dropped down to the floor and looked at her. He saw the fear in her eyes. “What happened? What happened to my Dad?”
“We have to get him to the clinic, Frank.” Her hand ran down the side of Joe’s face. “I think he had a stroke.”
“No.” Feelings surfaced in Frank he didn’t know how to control. Panic. Worry.
“I’ll help you take him out to the jeep.” Hurrying, Ellen grabbed Joe’s arm, and crossed it over his stomach. She reached across and laid her hand on Frank’s. “He’ll be fine.”
Frank moved his hand, grabbed hers and turned it over. It was bleeding. He rolled his fingers over hers and held her hand for a second. “Get the door. I’ll carry . . .” His head dropped as he tried to gain control of his emotions. “I’ll carry my father.” He reached his arms under Joe, and with all that he had, he lifted his father--a man nearly his size--into his arms as he stood to his feet.
Racing to the door, Ellen flung it open all the way and joined Frank. She saw the struggle, not just physical, but emotional, as he carried Joe. She braced her one arm under Joe’s head, the other giving reinforcement to Frank’s arm that held Joe’s legs. Backwards she walked, guiding the way to the jeep. She climbed in first and Frank laid his father by her. She adjusted his head.
“Hold him tight. Watch him,” Frank instructed.
“I will. Just get us there.”
Frank nodded and jumped in the jeep.
“I have you, Joe.” Ellen laid her lips on his cheek. “I have you. Please fight. I need you. Fight this.”
I am fighting, Ellen. I am. There’s nothing I can do.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Andrea didn’t want to face any of them when she walked into the waiting room of the clinic. All she could focus on were Frank, Ellen and Johnny as she and Dean stepped inside. That’s all she saw. Frank stood up immediately. Ellen walked closer with Johnny right behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders. “We believe . . .” Andrea took a breath through her nostrils. “We believe that Joe has had a stroke.”
Ellen knew it, it hurt to hear it. Her body slumped. She felt Johnny grip her tighter, she saw Frank, just fall back to a sitting position on the couch. “How bad?” Ellen asked, afraid.
“We don’t know. We did a scan, but as of now we don’t see a clot, which is not unusual. We do see a clouding at the base of the brain. Whatever it is, it’s affecting both sides.” She listened to the unison gasps in the room. “Right now though, we’re fortunate his breathing is not compromised.”
Johnny’s hands held tighter to Ellen. “So, Andrea, what you’re saying is my grandfather’s had a massive stroke.”
Andrea nodded. “The next forty-eight hours are crucial. Very crucial. We have to watch and see what mobility or functions return in that time frame. That will tell us a lot. But Joe is strong.” She clenched her fist. “Joe is very strong. Right now, we are sedating him. Stroke victims tend to get agitated. Since Joe has been under a tremendous amount of stress . . .” She saw Frank’s face drop. “ . . . lately. We want to avoid anymore. I’d like for any visitors tonight to be only family.”
Ellen stepped forward away from Johnny. “When can we see him?”
Frank stood up. “She said only family, Ellen. You aren’t family.”
“Dad!” Johnny stormed over to him, sternly lowering his voice “This isn’t the place for this shit.”
“This isn’t the place for her,” Frank snapped.
Ellen didn’t want to hear it. “Don’t.” She shook her head stepping between the two. “Don’t argue. Not now.”
As Dean watched Ellen reach up to Johnny, he saw it. Her arm covered with blood. Some of it still fresh. “El.” He walked over and grabbed her arm. “What happened?”
“It’s nothing,” Ellen said.
Pulling her aside, Dean opened and examined her hand. “I have to take care of this. Come with me.”
Ellen shifted her eyes to Frank who watched. She whispered to Dean. “I want to see Joe.”
Dean leaned closer to her ear. “You will.” Holding her injured hand, Dean put his arm around Ellen and led her from the waiting room.
Everything swarmed around Frank at that moment. Andrea stating she’d return when Joe was ready and Ellen leaving with Dean. Frank’s chest thumped and his head spun. He swallowed harshly, stunned by everything that was happening, and while he waited, Frank buried his face in his hands.
^^^^
Opening and closing the palm of her right hand, Ellen looked down at the wounds Dean had cleaned up earlier, then back into Joe’s room. From the archway, she watched Joe lying motionless on the bed. His heart monitor beeping steady, and strong. Such a good sign to Ellen plus the fact he didn’t need a respirator gave her hope too. She knew, as a nurse, most massive stroke patients didn’t breath on their own.
Johnny had stayed for a while in the room with Frank before heading out. Both of them were a sense of support for Joe. Could Joe feel her support too even though she wasn’t holding his hand? Her heart was there wanting too, imagining she was. Ellen felt horrible. All she kept thinking was, how long did he lay on the floor? How long after Henry spoke to him did it happen? Her heart broke to think like that. Little did Ellen know, Joe lay there two hours, waiting for someone, anyone to show up.
“El.” Dean spoke softly behind her. “How’s it going?”
“Still the same. He’s still the same.”
“Not Joe, you?” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Have you gone in yet?”
She shook her head. “Frank’s still in there. I don’t want to do anything that will make him leave. You know as well as I do patients sense the tension. I don’t want that for Joe.”
“El, he’s a father to you. You can’t linger in the hallway.”
“I’m in there Dean, really I am.”
“O.K., I’m going home again. Try to come home later for some rest and food. Please?” He kissed her on the cheek. “Night.”
Ellen only nodded then watched Dean as he walked down the hall. She returned her view to the room. How long had she been standing there? She could see through the small window in Joe’s room, it was dark. It didn’t matter.
She watched Frank move. He extended his hand up, running it down his father’s blanket covered leg. He grasped his father’s ankle, looking to Joe, waiting for something. Then Frank brought his hand away. He leaned on his elbows, and his face dropped to the palms of his hands.
Standing upright from her lean on the doorway, Ellen took a small step in. Her heart started to beat when she took another step and Frank sat straight up in the chair. Begging in her mind for him not to yell at her, she closed her eyes and let out her breath with quiet exasperation when Frank spoke to her.
“It’s all my fault, El.” He didn’t face her. “All my fault. I’ve been so rotten to him.”
So sacred and afraid to speak , Ellen reached out her trembling hand, resting it on his shoulder, gripping him with a firm gentleness.
Frank reached his hand up, taking hers. He brought it to his face and then slowly, with his eyes closed, he rubbed his cheek against it, feeling the softness of her. He glided it to his mouth but stopped and let her go. “I have to get out of here.” Frank stood up, rushing from the room.
“Frank.” Ellen followed him out of the room and then out of the clinic. “Frank.” She called to him as he took off running down the street. Against what her insides told her, she followed him in the direction of his home. “F
rank, please.” Ellen knew she was taking a chance calling to him. A big chance. She watched him stop at the front door. “I’m here. Let me help you though this.”
Frank turned around and faced her. He breathed heavily, so heavily.
With his eyes hardly opened, there was something almost frightening about him but Ellen took a step closer. “Let me help.” He looked as if he were going to lash out at her. Ellen’s heart dropped in fear, as he raged to her. Just as she was about to step back, his arm swung out and he grabbed her. His huge hand gripped the back of her head. His lips pressed hard to hers, pulling her with such force to him that she was nearly lifted from the ground. His other hand went up her back, ensuring she didn’t step away. His lips moved on Ellen’s with almost a biting anger.
Ellen could barely breathe. She brought her hands to his face, pushing him, separating him from her. “Frank.”
With tight closed eyes, a scared expression on his face, Frank shook his head ‘no’ and he pulled her back to him.
^^^^
The heaviness of his body lifted from Ellen’s as Frank rolled over onto his back, bringing to her the coldness of the room. Ellen laid on to her side to face him, watching him as his hand ran from the top of his head down his face. Frank stared at the ceiling, speaking no words, his one arm raised above his head.
He slowly blinked, almost as if he needed to close his eyes only briefly for thought. Without saying anything, he flung the covers off of him and swung his legs over to the floor. He sat on the edge of the bed, hands gripping to the sheets.
The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Page 135