by Bill Clem
Nadia was the secretary for the German consulate there. A dark haired beauty with classic Mediterranean features, Bahr noticed her immediately; and Cogswell picked up on it immediately. The affair started innocently enough. Bahr, a young agent far from home, his marriage although solid, was in the critical seven-year-itch period; Nadia, according to Cogswell--was available.
It didn't take much to prompt Bahr into what happened next. Cogswell had set him up good: cameras in the room, a night of passion for Bahr and Nadia, caught on film--Cogswell had Bahr in his pocket. He knew Bahr's weak point all too well. All Bahr ever talked about was his wife and kids. A stark contrast to Cogswell's feelings, or lack thereof, for his family. Bahr would do anything to keep his wife from finding out about his mistake. And he swore to himself he would never make the same mistake again.
Cogswell knew Bahr would do anything to keep his past affair secret--even kill.
"Yea, let's not forget those dandy pictures," Cogswell said. "Now let's get going, we've got lots of work to do."
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Headlights fell on Jonah from the hospital parking lot and he ducked head first behind a hedgerow. An ambulance cruised by and he waited for it to get around the building before he moved toward the road.
As Jonah waited, his mind went through a myriad of emotions.
Shock, betrayal, confusion, rage.
As a forensic pathologist, he had come across many disturbing things.
However, they paled in comparison to what he had learned tonight. National security, my ass!
Now, he needed to get back to Jack and Eva. The three of them had to get somewhere safe. He spotted a phone booth across from the hospital entrance, and darted toward it. He stumbled and slipped on some ice, nearly dropping all Jack's records. Now, he stood in the phone booth and caught his breath. If I ever get out of this... I'm getting my treadmill out of the attic.
When he finally reached the cab service, the dispatcher informed him it was going to be a half hour before someone could get him.
"Okay, but send them soon, it's cold," he said, then huddled on the ledge of a pharmacy window. He wanted to call Eva, but didn't have her cell phone number. Jonah hoped whoever was looking for them had given up their search. At least temporarily, till he could figure out what to do with Jack.
A Ford sedan passed and Jonah felt his heart come to a stop. They eyed him suspiciously. Jonah watched, ready to bolt behind the building if the car turned around. They kept going and his eyes followed until they were out of sight.
The cab arrived ten minutes later. He climbed in the SL series Mercedes, barely able to get his bulk in the seat. He found it amusing that this vehicle, so prized as a status symbol in the United States, was used a taxi in Switzerland.
"Where are we going?" the driver asked.
"I'll have to show you," Jonah said, not exactly sure of the directions.
"Just head out of town and turn left at the bridge," he said, remembering the directions Eva had given him during their flight from the morgue.
From the window, he watched the last of the city lights behind them, and tried to concentrate. He'd had enough experience in the hospital to know that
Bradley's function was for the hospital's best interest, not that of the individual. Here the stakes were so high, how could Jonah expect him to? He couldn't! Still, this was unthinkable.
He turned and peered out the back of the taxi, trying to determine if he was being followed. Traffic was light and it seemed unlikely, but he couldn't be certain. Everything looked different at night, and for a minute, he thought he had missed the turn to Eva's. Then he saw the sign for the ski resort. He knew she lived close to it. He leaned forward in the seat. "Turn up here." He'd have the driver drop him at the corner in case they were watching her house.
Jonah paid the driver and thanked him, then got out. The taxi sped away the second the door closed. The sound of the car died away quickly in the darkness. In its wake was a heavy silence, broken only by the occasional hiss of cars on the invisible main road.
Jonah looked around to get his bearings, and spotted Eva's chalet just ahead on the left. From there he only need go to the bottom of the hill.
With a surge of adrenaline, Jonah dashed across the street and into the trees. The Blue Spruce wore a jacket of fresh snow giving the effect of a white canopy above him. He scrambled in deeper and to his surprise, saw several cabins with lights on. Jonah had no idea which one he was looking for. He'd be able to tell when he got close. He remembered some bright red Swiss emblem on the door.
He moved quickly but carefully down the hill, his breath coming in ragged gasps. There were patches of ice where water had run off the trees during the day and frozen and he steered clear of them. Suddenly, he smelled the unmistakable odor of seasoned-wood burning. Smoke bellowed above the trees and disappeared. No lights were on, but he figured it must have been coming from a cabin nearby.
He emerged in a clearing and saw it. Directly in front of him, he recognized the bright red emblem. Thank God!
Jonah shoved the door open, his massive frame occupying the entire doorway.
Eva jumped to her feet. "Thank goodness, Jonah, you're here," she said.
"I'm all right. Really."
"Come sit by the fire, Eva said. "We're anxious to hear what happened."
Jonah let his expression remain blank.
"Is it that bad?" Jack asked.
"You'd better sit down," Jonah said.
Jack sighed. "It is that bad then?"
Jonah pulled off his coat and sat the file of folders down on a small table near the door.
"What's that?" Jack asked.
Jonah walked around to the fireplace and rubbed his hands in front of the flame. "Jack," he began, "I got into the hospital... and by a stroke of luck, ended up in the administrator's office. Anyway, to be brief, he knows exactly what's going on."
"Which is what?" Jack asked.
"I don't know if you're aware of it, but President Lloyd had a massive heart attack this morning after he arrived here in Zurich."
"Yes I saw it on the news this morning. I was shocked. He's the reason I was in Zurich to begin with."
"I don't understand," Jonah said. "Anyway save it. You can tell me when we have time. Back to what I was saying. Lloyd is going to need a heart transplant to survive."
Jack's eyes widened. "Wha--"
"Yea, they're keeping it very low profile, national security and all that. Somehow, Jack, your name came up as a donor match for Lloyd."
The color that had recently returned to Jack's face, suddenly drained away. He took a step back and collapsed on the small sofa. "Donor... you mean as in, cut me open, take out my heart, and give it to the fucking President?"
"That's exactly what I mean."
Eva sat down on the hearth. "But why, Jack?"
"Yea, why, I mean... how did they come up with my name?" Jack asked.
"I figured that out, too." Jonah said. "Thanks to your medical records being left on Bradley's desk."
"Who is this Bradley?" Jack asked.
"He's the hospital administrator," Eva said.
Jonah continued. "It seems you were put on a donor list after your accident. I guess they didn't expect you to recover. Dr. Leah did say you were lucky to be alive. You were entered into the donor bank, but then after you recovered, Dr. Leah wrote orders to take you off the list. Unfortunately, according to the computer printout, you were never taken off. And get this, one of the procurement clerks turned up dead."
"What!"
"Yea, some computer operator who tracked donors."
"Well what does that have to do with me?" Jack asked.
Jonah shook his head. "I can't say. But it smells rotten to me. And, Jack, don't leave for popcorn yet, it gets better. While I was in that office playing spy, a gentleman by the name of Cogswell came in and used the phone. I heard him say his name."
"Jesus Christ," Jack said. "How did you keep from getting caught
?"
"I hid in the closet, but I was within earshot of the phone. I heard him tell someone they needed you to disappear, before the others found you. I tell you, this whole thing sounds like a conspiracy of monumental proportions."
Jack ran his fingers through his hair and let his hand rest on the crown of his head. He looked up at Jonah. "If someone wants me for the President's donor, and someone else wants me to disappear, that means someone doesn't want the President to have a transplant... which would mean--"He would die," Eva said.
Jack looked aghast, nauseated almost.
"You all right, man?" Jonah asked.
Jack's voice was tremulous. "No... no, I'm not. I know one thing, though.
I'm not about to give my heart, or any other organ, to the President or anyone else. Someone wants the President dead... but who?"
Jonah leaned forward in his chair. "My guess is this Cogswell guy, and whoever was on the other end of the phone conversation."
"Who the hell is this Cogswell?" Eva asked.
"Government suit of some kind. Probably CIA."
Jack jumped up. "CIA! Let me get this straight, Jonah. We got the CIA trying to get rid of me, so the President dies for lack of a heart donor?"
"Crazy as it sounds, Jack, that's what it looks like to me."
Jack furrowed his brow. "Then there's the little matter of the other ones, whoever they are, who want to bring me in as the donor."
"That's the question," Jonah said. "Who are those other people?"
Jack shrugged. "Either way I lose."
Chapter Forty
Jack awoke disoriented. There was dark all around him. As he opened his eyes, his thoughts were slow to focus. A minute later, he suddenly remembered where he was. The cabin. He raked his hand across his skull, now recalling yesterday's nightmare. Eva lay stretched out on the small couch next to him, covered in a thick quilt. Jonah snored like a bear in the back room. How had he and Eva slept through the noise?
Pulling himself to one knee, Jack got up and went to the window. He lifted the wooden blinds and gazed out. A light shown off in the distance and snow was still falling. He closed the blinds and decided to sleep until daylight.
To go out in the dark would be foolish. He had no idea which way to go, or even where to go. Besides, he didn't know what might await him. One way or the other, though, come morning, he was leaving.
He got back in the sleeping bag and pulled it up around his neck. The flannel lining felt good and reminded him of home. He thought about his mother.
She was living in a nursing home in Michigan, not far from his office.
Guilty for not visiting her more often, at times like these, his guilt got the better of him. He wondered if he would ever see her again. He regretted putting her in the nursing home to begin with. He'd heard all the horror stories of the dreadful places, under staffing; abuse; neglect; and a general lack of compassion by the workers. Even the upscale ones weren't what they claimed.
Jack found that out for himself one evening during a visit. He had arrived at seven o'clock that evening, and her dinner tray was still sitting in front of her, ice cold. He later found out it had been there for two hours. When he questioned the nurse about it, she showed little concern. "We're short staffed," was her terse reply. "I'll have someone microwave it and feed her."
"Don't bother," Jack had told her, and he did it himself. After that, he swore he would do everything he could to get her out of there. That was the main reason this assignment was so important. Larry promised him a big bonus if he could pull off the interview with Lloyd. With the extra money, he could get his mother a private nurse so she could live out her final years at his home. Her Alzheimer's disease continued to rob her off what little cognition she had left. Even if he couldn't be with her all the time, at least she would be out of that hellhole. She raised Jack by herself and had worked two jobs after his father died. He would never have been able to attend college if it weren't for her. Now, it was his turn to pay her back.
Jack heard a thump and jerked his head around. A log had slipped down in the fireplace as the one underneath it had turned to embers. Eva turned over on her side at the noise. Jonah kept on snoring, drowning out any noise from the fireplace. Jack closed his eyes and tried to sleep. It wouldn't be easy.
It hadn't been lately--unless you count the coma.
Chapter Forty-One
Zurich Trauma and Brighton Heart Center merged in 1997. Purchased by Interhealth, the largest hospital chain in the U.S., it was billed as the biggest hospital consolidation ever to take place outside the United States, and second only to one other merger there. Zurich Trauma, already the most comprehensive of its kind in Europe, needed a cash influx in the late eighties.
Brighton, a well-respected transplant center, was looking to expand. Interhealth saw Brighton as a way to get that cash. The two seemed made for each other. They would upgrade the hospitals, hire the best and brightest doctors, and offer them the most sophisticated heart and trauma centers in the world. Recruiting doctors would be easy. Any doctor in his right mind would jump at the chance to have unlimited access to the best equipment anywhere.
Not to mention, six figure incomes, tax advantages of Switzerland, along with the beauty of the country. It was a doctor's dream come true Dr. Roy Gregg, even after ten years at Brighton, seldom could believe his good fortune here among the towering mountains, snow covered valleys, and state of the art medical facility. At the moment, in fact, as he prepared to brief his staff, he felt exceptionally lucky, his feet almost weightless on the plush carpeting.
Several members of his staff smiled as he strode into the conference room.
Gregg greeted each by name. Their responses, though polite, were nervous and apprehensive.
"Morning, Dr. Gregg."
"How we doing, Roy?"
"Morning, doctor."
As he took his place at the head of the long table, he also felt a certain anxiety about this operation that he'd not experienced before. Of course, it's the President! Knowing he was approaching the end of his career, however, Gregg looked as this as an opportunity to go out with a bang.
Lloyd's was not their routine heart transplant, since it was more risky than most due to his anomaly. Not that you could call any heart transplant routine, Gregg thought. It was still heart surgery, with all the inherent risks. Even to these seasoned pros, who had it down to an art form.
Still, this would be the first time they were involved in a preface procedure before the actual transplant. The Bi-foricle Circle procedure Gregg would have to perform would be a first for him as well.
After Lloyd's heart was removed and he was placed on the heart by-pass machine, Greg would dissect his ascending aorta. Then, working very quickly and methodically, he would loop it around the superior vena cava.
Finally, it would be brought back to its proper position. It sounded simple, but the trick was the timing. He could only clamp off the aorta for three minutes, otherwise the brain and other organs would be deprived of oxygen, and death would ensue. The by-pass machine would actually have to be stopped during these three critical minutes, and then restarted as soon as the procedure was complete. Gregg and his first assistant would have to work in concert. No sooner would one cut, the other would sew. If everything went smoothly, once the superior vena cava was in place, the machine could be restarted. The new heart would then be placed in Lloyd's chest, and the transplant completed.
Gregg fielded questions, and after feeling satisfied everyone was comfortable, advised them all to get some rest. It was going to be a long arduous day.
He left the meeting and went directly to the ICU and pulled Lloyd's chart from the rack. He perched his bifocals on the end of his nose and looked over the night shift's notes. Lloyd had been stable except for a few irregular beats.
Those were controlled with a slight increase in his lidocaine drip. That could change, though--as quickly as the event that put him here in the first place.
One of
the nurses' behind the desk called to Gregg. "Dr. Roy, there's a phone call for you. It's Bradley."
Chapter Forty-Two
Jack McDermott sat up on one elbow and looked out from his sleeping bag. Scalpels of light had begun to filter through the slats of the wooden blinds, making him squint. Eva was still asleep on the couch, and Jonah's snoring had reached new pitches Jack would have thought impossible by a human. The extra few hours of sleep since waking earlier had worked. He now felt refreshed for the first time since he was abducted from his hospital room.
He swung his legs out of the sleeping bag and sat up, allowing himself another minute to fully awaken. For a moment, he forgot about everything, but suddenly, it all came crashing back with terrifying clarity. Jesus Christ, how does this happen to someone?
He jumped when his feet touched the ice-cold planks of the cabin floor.
Spotting a stack of wood and some newspaper next to the hearth, he rekindled it with a couple of fresh logs. Soon, the flames were burning the chill off the morning air. All right, we've got heat, now for some food.
The kitchen was no more than a cubbyhole with just the necessities. A few cabinets, a sink, stove, and a refrigerator not much larger than a microwave oven. Classic European appliances that looked to be vintage 1960.
Jack opened the refrigerator. "Man I can't believe this, no food!"
"Nobody stays here very often I'm afraid," Eva said, from behind him.
Jack wheeled around. "Good morning, did I wake you?"
"Yes, but that fire feels great. How are you?"
"Better. Still shaky. I slept like a baby, though."
Eva nodded in Jonah's direction. "Looks like someone else is, too."
Jack laughed. "I hope he doesn't give away our location."
A familiar high-pitched whine became audible outside. "Get away from the window," Jack said, almost too sternly.