by Sam Nash
“Last chance. Give me what you got.” She meant business, Mary could see that. The woman’s fingers twitched against the trigger.
Karan was rooted, unable to move.
“You asked for it.” The woman fired.
“No!” Luca lunged, holding his hands up to push Mary away. A single shot rang out. The bullet’s path veered away from Karan in a wide sweeping arc, and bored a clean hole in the side of her silk gown, until it embedded deep in her abdomen with a squelching thud.
Chapter Fourteen
Mary swayed and fell backwards against the wall. The initial pressure in her gut now burned in a narrow channel right through to her spine. A warm wet trickle flowed down her right hip and leg. Blood pooled at her feet. Within moments, the numbness in her abdomen receded, and an aching pain took hold. As she slumped to the floor, Karan rushed to cushion her fall.
“Fuck. Grab what you can… get going.” The leader fired another volley at the ceiling, picked up the Kandinsky, and ran. The other gun toting criminals followed suit, each swiping their spoils and leaving via the servant’s entrance. Luca took his cell phone from his jacket and dialled the emergency services. He sat on the cool floor alongside Karan, who cradled Mary across his lap. Mary hyperventilated with shock. The hypoxia was dizzying. Guests yelled, screamed and cried, some crowded around Mary, others ran for the cloakroom facilities.
“I think you should lay her flat.” Luca announced.
“Don’t tell me what to do. This is your fault.” Karan snarled.
“How is it my fault? What did I do?”
“If you hadn’t donated that painting, they would not have thought to have raided the place.” Karan’s teeth gritted, his voice reduced to a hiss.
“Really? And the millions of dollars’ worth of jewellery didn’t attract them at all? Anyway, this is your fault. If you hadn’t tried to stash your watch from that manic bitch, she wouldn’t have fired on you.”
“If you hadn’t interfered, the bullet would have missed Mary.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“How did it miss me then? She aimed the gun right at me?”
Mary tried to move. She grunted and moaned, and then inhaled. “Um, guys. I can’t feel my right leg.”
“Oh, this is bad, really bad. Should I lie you down or keep you still like this?” Karan asked, but Mary did not answer. She was retreating into her thoughts, battling against the worst case scenarios playing out inside her mind. Karan held on, trying to keep as still as possible.
“We need to stop the blood flow or she’ll bleed out before we can get her to hospital.” Luca grabbed a couple of table napkins, scrunched them up into a ball and pressed them against Mary’s side. She cried out in agony. “I’m so sorry, Mary. This was never meant to happen.”
The police arrived before the ambulance crews. Filing in through the main entrance, they were afforded the VIP treatment. Cameras clicked and whirred, reporters clamoured for attention, shooting questions to the plain clothes detectives lingering on the red carpet. Medics arrived shortly after, pulling the gurney stacked high with medical equipment in green bags.
The ballroom was a scene of total mayhem. Scene of Crime Officers issued orders to hysterical women and quarrelsome men. Local Enforcement Officers swept through the entire building, directing the guests back to the ballroom. One uniformed man approached a plain clothes officer, who appeared to be in charge. “Sir, we have a body in the kitchen.” His tone grave and quiet.
“Show me.” The man in the long coat, left the medics to work on Mary and headed for the waiters’ exit.
Mary drifted in and out of comprehension. One moment she was lucid, the next, unaware of her surroundings bearing the pain. Karan held on so tightly, that paramedics had to force open his arms to release her. In the jerked movements, Mary slipped further down his knees, landing with a stomach clenching grunt on the hard floor.
Luca shoved Karan aside. “You are not fit to take care of her.” And to the medics, he said, “Mary complained of loss of feeling in her right leg earlier.”
With their swift and experienced care, the medics braced her neck with a plastic collar, and tipped her onto a rigid backboard. They hoisted her onto the gurney as though she was made of feathers. Karan dashed after them, wiping the moisture from his face with a swipe of his hand.
Luca’s long legs outpaced him. “I’ll go with her. You stay and give details to the police.”
“You will not. She is my responsibility. I will go.” Karan scurried faster, grabbing onto the framework of the gurney. As they all reached the doorway, the detective called after them.
“Senator Bonovich, sir. I need you to come with me. We believe that the fatality is one of your security team.”
Luca huffed, but stopped walking, watching Karan fly from the building with a sideways glance of triumph thrown in his direction. “Tell Mary that I will get there as soon as I can.”
The bump down the kerbside onto the cobbles, jarred Mary alert. Shallow breaths rattled her abdomen further. The blood congealed, sticking the silk to her skin. Loaded in the back of the ambulance, Karan stepped in and sat on a folding seat attached to the cabin wall. The sirens were activated immediately, forging a path through the steady traffic of downtown Manhattan.
With thick cotton wadding plugging the gaping hole in her abdomen, Mary lay as still as her heaving and shuddering body would allow. All she could discern was Karan’s presence, clearing his throat with a nervous cough and the medic jabbing her arm with a cannula needle. In her woozy state, she was aware of her brother establishing a telepathic link into her mind. From over three thousand miles away, she heard him enthuse with the latest piece of their family puzzle. His excited message, allowed her to deduce that Dan had persuaded Yelena to give up their grandfather’s personal effects, and that one of those items was another journal. The passage Dan read to her was troubling in the extreme. Among the phrases of chaos, Mary picked out the fated word, premonition. It stung her almost as much as the bullet had. She tried to listen to the warnings and the concerned tone of her brother, but she could not will her mind to concentrate on anything except that one excerpt: “I cannot recall a moment within the premonition which could indicate a potential date for this catastrophic event, but from the technology I saw, it will be soon. More importantly, we must be prepared…”
Reeling from the pain and the disconnected memories of her grandfather, Mary momentarily lost Dan’s transmission. How could this be? Why would Grampy keep this enormous secret from me? Did he really have the ability to see into future events? Tears prickled the inside of her sinus cavity. She tried to hold them back, but they escaped the confines of her eyelids and streaked across her temples to the backboard.
Dan reconnected the neural link. “Mary, what’s happening? Tell me what is going on…”
More than anything, she wanted to tell him. Have her brother come and protect her like he had in the London hospital. To reassure her and hold her hand, make her feel that she would never be alone again. But what could he do to help from England but worry? She had to tell him, it might be her last chance to convey how much he had meant to her since they found one another. But how could she inform him without inducing alarm, and a headlong rush to the airport? “Now is not really a good time, Dan. I’ve been shot.”
“What? You’re having a laugh. Don’t tease me, Mary. This is serious.”
“So am I. Look, I am okay. I’m on the way to the emergency room now. I will get in touch again when things calm down a bit.”
“No way, I am booking a flight right now…”
“Dan, really. It’ll be okay. You stay there and take care of your mum. She needs you.”
“Well, yes, she does, but I am sure we can make some sort of arrangement…”
“Dan…”
“Mmm?”
“Stay there. I will keep you informed.”
“Right, well if you are sure?”
“I am. And… you know I love you
right?”
“Me too, little sister.”
Mary severed the connection, and sobbed great, fitful tears. They hadn’t had enough time. One summer to form the unique bonds of siblings had made her happy beyond reckoning. He had pulled her from the depths following Pip’s murder, the result of another stray bullet. He had saved her from the clutches of MI6 agents, twice. He was her anchor. The thought of never seeing him again was more than she could take. The seven-block journey to the Presbyterian hospital on Gold Street, culminated in a jolting motion as the vehicle reversed onto a ramp. The medic at her side, stood up, open the back doors and gestured for Karan to disembark. He directed him towards the check in desk, just as a team of surgeons and nurses scrambled to unload Mary from the waggon.
Mary drifted in and out of consciousness, the blood loss manifesting as severe weakness. Her lips tinged blue with oxygen depletion. Keeping track of reality, of time passing, was an effort and inaccurate. She was aware of feeling constricted on the backboard, of her head and neck completely immobile, of being carried and passed from place to place in jerky motions, like a theme park ride. In one of her more lucid moments, she heard; “Need to get onto the mid-town hospitals, see if they’ve got any AB neg in stock.” Machines came and went around her. Some buzzed, others beeped, another cleared the room of all personnel. There were now two intravenous lines into her body, each pumping fluids of different viscosities and colour.
The pain was replaced by a sensation of lightness; a peculiar drug induced euphoria. A face loomed over her. Was that Parth? She squinted, blinking to clear the fog. No, not Parth. He’s like him, but better. A second face appeared. Ooh, he’s nice too. Lovely teeth, dashing. I wish I could scratch my nose. As her body adjusted to the increased level of opiates in her system, she grew more aware of the men at her bedside. Their bickering had not abated.
“What are you suggesting? There is nothing improper going on. She needed help, I provided it, and continue to do so. I should take it.” It was Karan’s voice, loud with a clear and confident intonation.
“What are you saying, you met her once before and now you are her benefactor? Oh, come on… could it be any fishier?” Luca scoffed.
“You think because you donated your blood to her, that it gives you some rights? You only met her a few hours ago.”
“And because you’ve known her longer you’re to be trusted? I am a United States Senator, my friend. I will keep the brooch safe, you can be assured of that.”
Mary opened her eyes wide. Her lips were gluey and her mouth parched. Luca noticed her immediately.
“Hi there. Remember me?”
She attempted a nod, but the head strap prevented all movement. Swallowing was difficult. She croaked a weak “yes.” Clearing her throat, she tried again. “Yes.” A nurse leaned across her chest, pushed down on her chin and swabbed her tongue with a tiny sponge stick. “Thank you.”
“I can’t get you a drink, Mary,” the nurse replied. “You’re gonna need surgery. I’ll be back to prep you in a minute.” Her face disappeared from view, replaced by Luca’s.
“How bad is it?” She asked.
Luca looked towards Karan. The nurse was asking him about insurance. Mary could hear their voices growing quieter and their steps clicking against the solid flooring. Karan had gone with the nurse to deal with the paperwork. Only Luca remained in view.
“Tell me straight. No sugar coating it, Luca.”
“The x-ray shows that the bullet is lodged against your spine. They’re not sure that it can be removed without causing further damage.” He inhaled, opening his mouth to say more, but checked himself.
“Go on…”
His brows pinched together. “They got to repair a tear in your uterus. You’re bleeding internally so they got to go in anyway, but if they can’t remove the bullet, there is a chance that you’ll never walk again.” His face disappeared from her view. He coughed and sniffed, and then leaned over her once again.
“I see.” Mary exhaled, a long slow thoughtful breath. “I am guessing from the discomfort in my lower regions, that there would also be issues with incontinence.”
Luca gave her a piteous look. “I’m so sorry. This should never have happened to you.” He touched her. The spark was immediate. An electric shock spread across her forearm.
“Sorry.” He attempted a grin. “Static.”
The nurse returned with a syringe, filled with a brown liquid. She removed the safety cap, inserted the end into the valve of the intravenous tube and squeezed. “This will make you sleepy and relaxed, before we take you down to theatre.”
“I’ll stay with her until you’re ready to take her, nurse.” Luca pulled the visitor chair across the floor and sat closer.
“Just don’t go upsetting her, you hear me?” Her footsteps faded upon her retreat. “And get that dressing changed on your neck, while you’re here.”
The drugs seeped into her veins, slowing the world down into a dull illusion. She could almost pretend it was all a bad dream, that she would wake any moment to discover her grandfather plonking a hot cuppa down on her nightstand. This was not a dream. This was her life now. Assassins and agents, heists and deadly hospital trips. This could very well be her last hospital visit.
“Mary…” the voice dissipated into silence.
“Mmm?” She struggled to open her eyes.
Luca stood up and angled his face to match hers. “What is it?”
Her mouth wouldn’t work, the drowsiness eroding her senses. I thought he called my name. Dan, perhaps. She listened again, keen to discover the owner of the voice with the strange cadence. Her eyelids drooped. Luca still loomed over her. He did have the most beguiling eyes, dark blue with a violet band around his irises. Salt and pepper hair framing his distinguished forehead. I do like those little canine teeth. I hope I get to see them again.
The surgical tape holding the protective wadding tugged at her skin. What is he doing? She could feel his hot palm laid against the wound site. The pressure barely registering, the pain suppressed by the analgesic drugs. There was a mild tingling which grew in intensity, and then warmth. Deep within her belly, she sensed movement. Her tissues pulled taught against a solid lump. By slow and gradual increments, the hard object burrowed through her clipped organs and stopped close to the surface of her shredded skin. She tensed her abdomen, the hard surface knocked against the nerve endings. Pain coursed through her entire torso, the drugs unable to dampen the synaptic transmissions.
Her skin was clammy, her pallor grey. Luca replaced the bandage. “I am, so sorry. See you when you get back, Just Mary.” His face disappeared from her view. She could hear his footsteps moving away.
No wait…don’t go. What did you do? I have questions, I can’t… For a single moment, before the sedatives took away her awareness, she mustered a tiny vestige of strength. Straining against the tight straps of the backboard, both of her legs moved.
Chapter Fifteen
The post-op waiting area was stifling. Mary gagged on the tube obstructing her trachea, her arms flailing and thrashing in agitation. A male nurse with a narrow face and a sweet smile, grabbed at her hands. “It’s okay, sugar. I’m gonna take it out…don’t fight me.” He pulled the tube in one swift movement, the rigid end rattled against her teeth. Mary gasped, coughed and flaked out unconscious once more.
When she came to, she found herself in a single room, wearing a neat patterned gown and surrounded by orchids and daisies. She lifted her head from the pillow and immediately wished she hadn’t. Her entire abdomen ached as though she had been kicked by a street thug. In her hand, she found a plastic casing surrounding a large red button. She traced the attached cable back up the fluid stand to the morphine pump and gave it a press. The sensation was frightening. As the drug entered her arm, she could feel the burn coursing through her veins and across her chest. It took her breath away.
Despite the bright airy windows and the transparent door section through to the nurse desk, she
had an uneasy feeling. One which took her back to a disused cottage hospital in Britain, with large bolts to keep her securely inside. A nurse made eye contact with her through the panel. She immediately picked up the telephone and made a call. Mary wished she could lip read. The woman did not take her eyes off her for the entire duration of the conversation. The nurse replaced the receiver and entered Mary’s room.
“Hello, my name is Chantelle. Can you tell me your name and where you are?” The nurse adjusted the flow rate on her IV and made a note on Mary’s chart.
“I’m Mary. I have no idea where I am. It’s somewhere in Manhattan. That’s all I can tell you.”
The nurse chuckled. “You got everyone talking round here. There’s a bunch of ‘em waiting for you by my desk. Are you feeling up to seeing them? One of them is Senator Bonovich. Girl, I would hock my granny for a date with him.”
“Why are they all talking about me?”
“That’s what the Surgical Chief wants to discuss with you. Got him all in a sweat too. Shall I let them in?”
“You haven’t told me how the surgery went?”
“That’s just it, some of it never went. Didn’t need to.” The nurse flicked the bedsheets over and tucked them into the frame.
Mary could guess as to what she was referring and chose not to press the matter. “What about my uterus?”
“Oh, they stitched that back up. Only a nick in the wall as it turned out. Ain’t you surprised about the bullet?”
“What about it?”
“Prep team went to swab you down with antiseptic and the bullet fell out of your side! Never seen anything like it before.” She waved through the glass panel at Karan and Luca loitering outside. They bundled in and each took a side of the bed. The nurse hovered, arranging the flower pots and gaping at the senator.