I knew I wouldn't feel safe and relax until I was in my own house, with my own protection. My anxiety building at a rapid rate the more I thought about the hallway and the bright flashes of the muzzle.
My fingers wrapped around the cord, pulling the grey wand towards me.
"Claire! What are you doing out of bed?"
I dropped the cord, leaning back in the chair, "Can you get the nurse and ask her to bring me the AMA release forms?" I looked up at Kit's face as she stood in front of me. She was relieved but confused, shaking her head lightly, "No. You need to be back in bed. You had surgery less than an hour ago." Kit went to reach for my arm to help me up and out of the chair, "I will get Dr. Kingsley."
I shook my head, slowly moving my arm away from Kit, "Get the forms, and then get the car. I want to go home." I bent forward, pulling my heels closer to my feet.
"Claire, I will get the doctor. I don't think you should be going anywhere until she checks on you." Kit's voice was soft, trying not to be overbearing when I could feel it in the air around me. Kit was in protection mode, not agent mode, she was doing her best to keep back the personal emotions for my sake. "You are shivering, let's get you in bed."
I leaned away from her again, irritated, I wanted to be in my own bed and away from everything. I stood up quickly, facing Kit, "I am a doctor, Kit. I don't need another doctor, who I am sure is a fantastic physician but knows very little about my body on a whole and exactly what I need." I pushed the chair back, holding tight to steady my steps as I moved away from the bed. "What I need is to get the hell out of here and away from all the prying eyes that will come the longer I’m here!" I turned to the door and walked as best as I could. "Never mind. I will get the forms." I mumbled it under my breath.
My hand fell to the door handle, Kit's hand wrapped around my upper arm, "Claire stop." Her voice was firmer, hinting at her own irritation. I knew I was being a stubborn ass, but the longer I was in this room the more my anxiety and fear began to bubble up. "I will get the nurse."
Kit pulled me gently back and away from the door, moving past without looking at me to leave the room. I sat back in the chair, focusing on the pattern of blood spatter on my slacks. I traced a finger over on large spot, my hands trembling lightly as memories of the last time I was in this position. The flashes of a knife in the ambient night light of my darkened room made my stomach lurch into my throat.
I closed my eyes as, swallowing down the tears and the need to scream. I had to hold it together, I had to stay strong for the sake of my public image. If I showed any inkling of weakness, my enemies would take it and run with it. Whether it was fellow politicians or the Alistair's of the world.
Kit came back a few minutes later with the nurse. The nurse tried the usual to get me to wait for Dr. Kingsley and stay in the hospital for at least another day. I said nothing to her as I signed off on the AMA waiver, handing it back to her mid-sentence. I stood up and walked out of the room, Kit close on my heels.
She lightly touched my arm, "Davey is waiting for us at the service elevator. He has the car waiting in the garage. We have made sure no one will bother you. The press has been directed to the front lobby of the hospital." Kit was using her professional tone with me, cluing me in that I had been a little too harsh with her when I knew better. I looked at her, noticing she wouldn't make eye contact as we walked as fast as I could to the elevator.
We rode down alone, the silence in the small metal car hung in the air thick and heavy. Kit stood on the other side of the elevator, holding onto my plastic bag of ruined things and the pages of post-surgery care the nurse had given her. She was staring at the floor, her jaw twitching with every third breath. "Kit, I know I am being difficult."
She cut me off, "It's fine." The elevator opened up to reveal Davidek leaning against the driver's side door of Cadillac. He smiled tightly at me, moving to open the back seat door.
Kit motioned for me to go first, "I'll take the back seat. You can sit in the front with Davey."
I hesitated a step, wanting to say something else since I could see Kit was holding back her temper. I exited the elevator and slowly walked to the back seat, holding my sore arm as I gently sat behind the driver's seat. I could hear Kit huff in irritation, throwing the plastic bag in the trunk before sitting in the passenger seat.
Davidek gave me a look that told me he was equally upset I was leaving the hospital against the wishes of the doctor and nurses who had treated me. I leaned back in the plush leather, looking away from Davidek and out the side window. I tuned the two of them out as they spoke in hushed clipped words.
A few minutes away from the hospital, I found I couldn't get comfortable in the seat. The normally comfortable curve of the plush leather seat, was now pressing against my injured arm. Any time I tried to move to get a better position, I couldn't. I would just lean back and hold my arm at a strange angle.
All of the movement made my arm throb, the pain was intense and burned all over my body. I could feel the sweat building up on my forehead, small droplets trailing down my neck and sticking to the thin gown I still wore under Kit's suit jacket. I just needed to make it home, to my bedroom and I could take care of the pain.
I clenched my jaw and softly spoke to Davidek in Czech, asking him to speed it up. He caught my eyes in the rear view mirror, answering me with the sudden roar of the Cadillac coming to life.
Kit threw Davidek a look, silently asking him what I had said, he shook his head, "She's giving me permission to break the speed limit."
Kit turned to look at me in the back seat, worry filling in where her irritation was fading, easily seeing I was in a lot of pain. "Claire..."
I waved at her, closing my eyes as another bolt of pain tore through my arm. I bit the inside of my cheek to funnel the pain somewhere else. I heard rustling and a click from the front seat, I was deep in a wave of pain that I couldn't open my eyes to see where the noise was coming from.
When I felt the seat next to me move I opened my eyes to see Kit had climbed into the back seat. Gently sitting next to me, moving my body forward so I could lean against her and not the awkward curve of the seat that pressed against my bandaged arm. Kit tugged me to sit against her, her body propping me forward enough that my arm was free of unwanted contact and I could lean into her for support. She held me softly, brushing my hair back to let some cool air move around my skin, making me close my eyes, fully allowing my body to sink into her arms. The pain was less now that it wasn't agitated, but still throbbed.
We said nothing, just sat in silence until the garage door closed behind us. Davidek helped me out of the car and up the stairs to my bedroom while Kit collected my things and locked the townhouse down. He left me at the door to run and get the glass of water I asked for.
The moment I was alone I walked to the bedside table, punching in the code to open the wall. I shuffled to the leather chair, sitting down slowly as the pain was now overtaking my entire body. I leaned over to the small cabinet under my one set of camera monitors. Pulling open the small nondescript wooden door, I ran my hand over the interior. Setting off the automatic lights as the cabinet walls shifted down to reveal a thick black metal box.
Holding my hand an inch over the top of the metal box, I let my body heat illuminate the key pad. Slow fingers punched in the pass code and brought up the small screen that I pressed my full hand against. It took a few minutes for the security system to monitor my body temp and match it to my fingerprints and biometric pattern.
The box opened with a whisper, the contents laid out before me in bright LED light. Twenty five vials lined the bottom of the box, all filled with a dark pink liquid. I clutched the one closest to my reach, pulling it up and out of the box, stopping to grab the small injection gun latched to the side of the deep box that also held a few pieces of paper and a small notebook.
Setting the vial of pink liquid and the gun on the desk in front of me, I resealed the black metal box and waited for it to disappear back into the
cabinet that was its façade. I then rolled the chair to the back wall of the room, removing the small first aid kit from the drawer, I set that next to the other two and went to work.
Painfully removing the bandage from my arm, letting the cool air hit the angry red flesh held together with neatly lined stitches, I dug around until I found the small silver scissors. Trying to use my left hand, I attempted to remove the stitches, knowing that they would be more of a problem in the next few minutes.
The bedroom door was opened with a slow creak, I looked over my shoulder to see Kit walking in with a glass of water wearing one of her beer t-shirts, but still wearing her dress pants. "Hey, I brought you some water." She paused when she locked eyes on what I was doing. "Please don't tell me you are removing your own stitches, Claire."
I shrugged, "I am." I inhaled thickly, setting the scissors down. Reaching for the vial and the injection gun, I slid them across the desk to be in Kit's full view. I looked up at her, "I think I need your help."
Kit walked across the room, glass of water still in her hand as she looked at the vial and the injection gun, "You told me the serum wouldn't work on you." Her tone was firm, irritated but attempting to be gentle with me, when I really didn't deserve it.
I took the glass of water from her, drinking a large amount and nodding, "The serum I carry for you, won't. This serum will and will only work on me." I finished the water, setting the empty glass on the desk. "This serum I designed years ago when I began working on the whole idea of a quick healing injection. I was the first and only test subject and created a formula that was highly effective, but would only work if it was specifically coded in a long process to the individual using it. In time I altered it and was able to come up with the violet liquid you are familiar with. I destroyed all of my original research and formulas, only saving the original batch. Twenty five large vials of a lifesaving liquid with the potential to be more. The ability to be developed into a serum that will turn me into an immortal, self-healing human.”
I tapped at the vial, "I added something to the last batch to ensure it would not be replicated." I rolled the vial, looking in Kit's eyes, "If the pink serum is used on anyone but me, it will kill them in less than a minute whereas the violet one turns to sludge when my DNA is introduced into it." I smiled meekly, "I guess it's a morbid insurance policy."
Kit stared at the vial, then looked at me, "I get the feeling this was the reason behind your first attack in Malibu." Things began clicking together in her head like children’s building blocks.
I nodded slowly, reaching for the scissors again, "It was and to kill me. The CIA wanted the serum and sent in hired thugs. Back then the original serum was a universal one that needed a little refinement. If I could be taken alive that would have been a bonus, but ultimately all that was desired was my research and a physical sample of this." I ignored the scissors and held up the vial, letting the bright light sink into the pink tones of the liquid, "Immortality. Twenty five chances at perfect immortality."
With one hand, I slid the vial into the injection gun, "If I don't remove the stitches, they will become a permanent part of me." I picked up the scissors, holding them out to Kit, "Will you do the honors?"
Kit looked at me as she took the scissors, walking to the other side of the chair and kneeling down to look at my injured arm. She sucked in a breath, "Why didn't you tell me this in the hospital instead of being a pain in the ass." Kit threw me a hard look before gently snipping the small knot holding the line of stitches closed.
I drew in a sharp breath, even the gentle tugs were painful, "I don't like hospitals." I cringed, feeling the thin surgical thread being pulled through my skin. I had to bear down until I no longer felt the stitches being yanked.
Kit leaned back and grabbed the injection gun. "Yeah well, you didn't have to take it out on me Claire." She waited until I turned and met her eyes, seeing the myriad of emotions swirling in the hazel irises. "I was scared shitless when I saw you sitting on the floor." Her face contorted slightly, her voice breaking, "Scared shitless that I had fucked up again in not paying attention to things around me. Letting my feelings get in the way of keeping you safe." Kit dropped her head to look at the silver gun in her hand, "Watching the serum turn to sludge, knowing that I had no way to save you like you saved me. Then sitting in that stupid hallway, waiting for the doctor to tell me anything." She looked up at me, tears clouding her eyes. "Then I see you awake and all I wanted to do was hold you and you turn into a stubborn ass." Kit swallowed deeply, "It made me think I had failed you." She was beating herself up for what she thought was mistakes made, then I tacked on acting like a demanding child.
Kit shook her head, wiping tears away and reaching for my arm to line up the injection gun above the wound. I opened my mouth to tell her that she had not failed, far from it. I flinched at the quick sting of the serum being dumped into my system. I immediately felt the effects. The pain, the throbbing, the burning all dissipated. I felt my skin knit back together, my torn muscle and tendons ease up on the tightness I carried. In thirty seconds, my arm was back to new.
Kit stood up, "I'll be in the basement with Davey. Sheehnan will be over in a little while to fill us in on Stansfield and the incident." She went to leave the room, I stood up with her, grabbing her arm, turning her to face me.
"You didn't fail me. You did nothing wrong Kit." I moved closer to her, "You did what you were trained to do. Knowing Davidek was next to me, you chased after the attacker." I held her hands in mine, "I hate hospitals and always have, even when I was becoming a doctor." I looked in her eyes, "And I woke up scared. You weren't in the room to calm me down and all I could think of is that I needed to be home where I am safe." I sighed, "Acting like an ass is my way of keeping my fear in control. I can't ever let anyone see me weak."
I smiled as the tears rolled down my face, "I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this Kit. Living a double life." I tried to hold the smile as the dam finally broke, the tears and the sobs rushing forward faster than I could stop them. Emotions seeking the freedom they had been searching out for far too long.
Kit's arms wrapped me up in a strong embrace, allowing me the safety net I needed to fall apart and let out all of the emotions of the last few days. I held onto her as I sobbed out the stress, the fear, the anxiety.
I then heard Kit whisper in my ear, "Give me the word, Claire. Like I promised you last night, I will go wherever it is with you that will take us far from this life."
I squeezed Kit tighter before leaning back in her arms. Her hands falling to the sides of my face, holding me to look in her own tear ridden eyes, "This is as new to me as it is to you, but we have to stick together if we are going to beat them and make it to that singular life you want." She smiled weakly, "I am nothing without you Claire and everything with you."
I nodded, biting my bottom lip, "After this last trip to Geneva, I will resign my senate seat." I smiled, "Then you and I go find a quiet life anywhere but here."
Kit's smile turned into a grin, her eyebrows raising in question, "Do you mean it?"
"Yes. I think my priorities have changed recently. I want what everyone else around me has. A peaceful life with the one I love and nothing but what the future will bring us." I sighed, "I think I finally understand how powerful love is and what I have been missing all of these years."
I leaned forward, moving to kiss Kit when Davidek knocked on the door before poking his head in, "Hey Kit, Sheehnan is downstairs. He has everything from the other scene."
Kit turned to him, nodding, "Okay I will be down there in a minute after I get Claire settled in bed."
Davidek raised his eyebrows with a slight smirk, "Mhmm. I bet, I think I have finally picked up what happens when you two fight." He then pointed at the both of us, "I know what happened on that couch in Claire's office. You two both owe me drinks for letting me sit there and not telling me that it was defiled. You two are filthy." He winked at us, "It's good to see you back to normal Bi
ts." He motioned to my arm before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. Leaving Kit and I red faced and embarrassed.
Kit looked at me, "How did he?"
I sighed, walking out of the panic room, "I think one of us was a little louder than we should have been." I closed the panic room after Kit, "Why is Danny here?" I sat on the edge of the bed, sleep no longer needed as the serum literally cured all of my ills.
Kit's face dropped, folding her arms across her chest, "Sheehnan is here because Davey and I asked him to look into Stansfield, the man who shot you." Kit paused, "He found Stansfield in his basement while you were in surgery."
"Oh, good. Is he downtown and has he said why he came after me?" I felt the knots in my stomach tightening. I really didn't want to know why I was attacked, but knew it was a hard fact of my current life.
Kit let out a breath, "Stansfield has been dead for at least a week."
I stared hard at Kit, her words sinking in. "How?"
Kit looked at the large painting on the wall to the panic room, "Alistair Montgomery." She turned to face me, "I think it was Alistair that shot you in the hallway."
Claire sat quietly in the far corner of the basement office, watching Sheenan explain the crime scene photos spread across the small table.
"As far as my techs can tell, it was a professional hit. Stansfield has a clean headshot dead center in his forehead. He was dead before he hit the floor. There were no signs of forced entry and whoever was in his house, cleaned up and locked up when they left." Sheenan handed over the preliminary autopsy report to Davey, "It will be a few days until we get a one hundred percent positive identification, but all of us agree. This is Joseph Stansfield."
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