“You don’t have to do this. Cody and I will find a way.”
“See, I don’t think you will. This is far bigger than the two of you, and you’ll probably end up getting caught sooner than later. But with a few more people working with us, we might find a way to help Jordan. Hell, we might even figure a way to stop her mother.”
Ethan set the last phone down. “You must have something in mind.”
“Way too early to say, but we have to try. Karlson made it my fight, and that bitch will not see us coming.”
“I wouldn’t know the first thing about trying to bring her down,” Ethan admitted. “Look at us. We’re just regular people. We wouldn’t stand a chance against her.”
Joe smiled. “Trust me, Ethan. I wouldn’t show up at a gunfight with a jackknife. You get me?”
“No, not really.”
“Let’s just say that when the time comes, we will all know what we need to do.”
“I can’t believe it could be that simple.”
“I didn’t say it would be simple. I say it doesn’t matter. Because when a fight like this comes at you, there are few right choices. Doing nothing is not one of them. This isn’t the time to wallow in fear, buddy. You have to have some faith in what can be done if we use our heads. For all intents and purposes, Karlson is waging a secret little war against everyone connected to this. She probably believes she can win just by intimidating the hell out of us. Well, we are not undefended.” Joe tapped his finger to his temple. “These are our weapons. And I most definitely believe we are capable of out-thinking her. There are chinks in every suit of armor. We just have to be the smartest soldiers on the battlefield and exploit their weaknesses. That, my friend, I believe we can do.”
Ethan stared back. It made sense. There were still more questions than answers, but Joe was right. There had to be a way. This battle was brought to them, and the only option was to return fire. Karlson would never expect it. A grin spread across his face as he began picking up on Joe’s enthusiasm. “Thank you,” he finally said.
“For what?”
Ethan got up and wrapped his friend in a bear hug, slapping his back. “For being the right guy in the right place at the right time.”
“My friend, you’re welcome.”
34
Bethesda, Maryland
Mark Vistan heard the news he’d been waiting for early the next morning in the hospital cafeteria. While making small talk with two nurses, one of them began offering details of a mystery patient on the third floor. The RN’s, friends for years, had softened their distant, professional demeanor and now practically clawed over each other for Mark’s attention. His gray-green eyes and hard chiseled features made them behave like giddy teenagers. Mark was a seasoned flirt and used the effect he had on women like a power tool.
“So, Ernie, the night supervisor, he says an uncooperative government witness is being held in 3808,” said Marcy, a striking brunette with high cheekbones and drawn-in eyebrows. She emphasized the word ‘uncooperative’ with finger quote marks, her Long Island accent further punctuating her point. Marcy had clumsily pocketed her wedding ring moments earlier.
Suzanne, a pretty, petite blonde, asked, “Can they do that?”
“That’s what I wanted to know,” Marcy answered. “Ernie says they do it all the time here.”
“But why keep a witness here?” Mark asked. “Why not get them in some protection program?”
Suzanne nodded attentively, watching him from the corner of her eye.
“Ernie says that she’s a material witness in some high-profile drug case.” She again used air quote marks to emphasize ‘high profile.’ “He says they have to keep her sedated because she’s an addict going through cold turkey. The only way they can use her on a witness stand is to clean her up first.”
Suzanne shook her head. “Does that sound right to you?” she asked.
“Not really, so I talked to Rita. You know Rita in the kitchen? She spoke with one of the girls who run the meals up there.” Marcy leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “She says,” she paused to look around the room. “She thought it might be that senator’s daughter on the news.”
“Karlson? Katherine Karlson’s kid?” Suzanne blurted out a little too loud for Marcy.
“SHHH! We’re not supposed to know this stuff, let alone talk about it. Keep it down!”
Mark was amused that Marcy’s already high-pitched voice rose a few notes higher.
Marcy scanned the room to see if anyone had noticed. It didn’t appear so.
“Yes, Katherine Karlson’s kid,” she continued. “But nobody else is talking, so we’ll just have to wait and see.”
“That kind of stuff gives me the creeps,” Suzanne added. “I think Brittany does the meds dispensing on that floor. You should ask her.”
“Pregnant Brittany that just went on medical leave?” Marcy asked.
“That’s her,” Suzanne nodded.
“Poor girl was huge!” Marcy imitated an inflating abdomen with her hands. “She looked like she swallowed a school bus.”
“I thought she would have left a month sooner. She was so big. That’s a lot of extra weight to carry around. I say twins or triplets.”
“More like a basketball team. There’s a girl that’s going to have some premature varicose veins.”
Mark tuned out of their small talk, concentrating on directing the conversation back to the patient in 3808 without sounding too inquisitive. He needed answers but could not afford to draw suspicion. He needed to move cautiously, ask the right questions. A simple solution popped into his mind, and he asked, “Excuse me, but do you know where the central pharmacy is located?”
Both nurses turned to Mark, realizing they had neglected him in their conversation.
“It’s on the first floor of the Grace wing,” Marcy answered. “Why?”
“I’m considering a Master’s degree in Pharmacology. I need to have logged hours in the field before I can even apply. Do you know anyone in the department?”
Suzanne smiled. “Marcy does, right?”
“Oh yeah, Anthony is the pharmacist,” Marcy said. “Would that help?”
Anthony would be precisely who Mark wanted to connect with. If he could get on the rotation doing patient meds dispensing, he could see if Jordan was here. Still, he could not afford to appear too anxious. Mark had to use the information without revealing his intentions.
“Yes, that would definitely help.” He gave his sexiest bedroom grin. “Think you can hook me up?”
It worked. Marcy blushed with excitement, grinning as she found the courage to make a move on him.
“It’s going to cost you!”
Mark sensed where this was going, but it was all right. He’d hoped his charm and good looks would unlock some doors, and now they had—time to play.
“Well, in that case, you need to tell me the price up front so I can make sure I can afford it.”
“I think you can swing this one,” she said slyly. “Drinks tonight at Baldwin’s.”
“Perfect,” he answered. “Excellent restaurant and excellent company. Count me in.”
“And Suzanne, you come along too,” Marcy said, flashing a sly smile to her friend. “I think we’ll have more fun as a threesome.”
35
Mark Vistan exited the elevator and made his way to the first-floor pharmacy with the transfer documents he had picked up in the personnel office. Floaters and temporary workers were such a common sight that Anthony, the pharmacist, did not look twice at the new face presenting the forms. He glanced at Mark’s identification card through coke bottle spectacles and pointed to a doorway next to the window. He buzzed the lock. Mark grabbed the handle and opened the thick, windowless steel door. Inside, he found a stainless steel cart pre-loaded with the medications he would be administering.
“Everything is documented on the check-off sheet on this clipboard,” Anthony explained. He passed it over the barrier that separated them. “Take a m
oment to mark whether the patient received full meds or caused any problems, but do it after you’ve left the room and locked the door.”
Mark scanned the form, then slipped the clipboard into a pocket on the side of the cart.
“We deliver the meds in two stages,” Anthony said. “Start with cart one at room 1830 and work your way back to 1815. I’ll have the next cart loaded and ready when you return. You’ll work up the next two floors the same way. When you’ve finished with all the carts, we’ll review your check sheet and re-visit any patients that didn’t get their full doses.” He handed Mark a large key on a two-foot brass chain. “This opens all of the patient room doors. Attach it to your belt loop, and do not let it out of your possession for even a second. People get fired for less around here. You’re filling in today because the guy before you made a simple mistake.”
Mark nodded and backed the cart out the door.
The first run went smooth enough and was good practice to observe how things were done. Mark also took note of the overall security. He counted three orderlies performing various tasks on the third floor. All seemed easygoing and did not take much notice of him. That changed as he rounded the next corner. A lone security guard came lumbering toward him directly in his path. Mark tensed at the sight of this unforeseen obstacle and forced himself to keep walking at a measured pace to mask his nervousness. As the guard drew closer, Mark observed this wasn’t some highly trained elite member of a ninja death squad. Just an average, out-of-shape rent a cop. Probably bored out of his wits and walking the halls to stay awake. There was a chair further down the hallway. Mark reasoned it was likely the guard’s regular post. This was a new wrinkle that needed to be passed on to Joe.
The guard altered course and walked past without so much as a glance. A more disciplined security officer would not have let this interaction go by without making observations about a face he’d never seen before. Luck was on Mark’s side. He reasoned the hospital selected this security company more for their price than overall effectiveness.
He continued dispensing medications without incident until, at last, he found himself outside the room he had come for. The white metal door, with its small wired window, gave a sensation of foreboding not felt at any of the other identical rooms. He pushed the cart up against the wall and loaded a tray with a cup of water and the small plastic container of prescription pills marked ‘3808 Jane Doe’. He did a quick mental inventory of the meds so he could identify them later. Mark pulled the door open and stopped cold.
She sat on the bed with her head down, arms wrapped tightly around her folded legs, her thin frame clad in a wrinkled standard-issue green and white hospital smock. Her hair was a dark, tangled mess with thick strands draping her face and shoulders, completely concealing her eyes. Mark didn’t know what he’d expected to find, but it wasn’t this. He stumbled back a step.
Her anguish was palpable. Mark could sense the helplessness that consumed her, depleting what little energy there was left. He worked to get his breathing under control, then attempted to make out her hidden facial features. He was still not sure this was who he had come to find. She could be anyone. He set the tray on a countertop and took a moment to inspect the room, noticing the security camera located in the upper corner above the door, just as Joe expected. He would have to avoid doing anything that might arouse suspicion of whoever was monitoring that video signal. He picked up the water and med cup and called softly.
“Jordan?”
There was no response.
“Jordan, My name is Mark, and I’m a friend of Ethan’s.”
Her hands twitched as though she had received a slight electrical shock. Slowly, she lifted her head toward him. Mark caught his first glimpse of her sad face through a curtain of unkempt hair and was hit with a wave of despair. Her tear-stained eyes appeared sunken, lost, and hopeless. It was the tortured face of innocence, betrayed by those she loved and trusted. It was Jordan West. Mark was sure of it immediately. He could feel her agony and struggled to retain his composure. His instinctive urge to reach out and shelter her in his arms was nearly overwhelming. He forced himself to remember that his every move was being observed. The wrong actions now could jeopardize what he’d been sent to do.
“Jordan, can you understand me?” he asked in a hushed voice. “Nod if you do, but remember, there is a camera watching us.”
She was heavily medicated, that was clear, but Mark detected a faint spark in the depths of her dark eyes. She nodded once, without breaking her gaze. A shiver ran down his spine. She’s doped up to high heaven, he thought, but she’s still here.
“Listen closely,” he said in a near whisper. “I am going to give you three pills. I want you to take them in your mouth and pretend to swallow. Then I want you to turn away from the camera and spit them out. I want you to do this from now on, okay?”
Jordan gave another weak nod.
“We are going to get help for you, but you need to keep acting drugged until I come back. Can you do that?”
This time she didn’t nod. Her eyes blinked back tears as she managed a faint, weary smile.
“Here, take these,” he said, holding the plastic cup of pills up to her mouth. She let him pour them in, then took a sip of water, seemingly washing them down. She turned away and lay down on the bed, shielding her face with her hand. He barely perceived her spitting out the pills and knew her actions had been concealed from the camera.
“Jordan, I’m going to let Ethan know you’re all right. I promise you we are going to find a way to get you out of here as soon as possible.”
She didn’t stir, but Mark knew he was successful in delivering the message. She would be fully lucid within a few days. After that, this place would become even more hellish to cope with. They needed to act quickly, or the Haven would really make her crazy.
Mark locked the door, returned the med cart to the pharmacy, then headed toward the elevators. He stopped in a men’s room along the way, bolting the door behind him and slipping out the cell phone that Joe gave him. He tapped the text button and fingered in a single word message: ‘Verified.’ He powered off and unlocked the door.
That was the easy part, he reminded himself. He reached the elevator and pushed the down button to take him back to the pharmacy. Now he would return the cart, then punch out and head over for cocktails. He still had to fulfill his commitment with Marcy and Suzanne for putting in the good word with the pharmacist. He didn’t expect it to be a late night. He would do his best to feign a smile and act the part, but his thoughts were still in room 3808.
36
The sun was making a grand entrance in a cloudless, pale blue sky as it burned off the last breaths of morning dew. Slivers of brilliant light cut and danced through the branches of thick oaks that lined the blacktop road. Mark Vistan noticed none of it. He drove along, staring straight ahead, his mind racing miles beyond.
The first time into room 3808 was innocent enough. But returning the second day while wearing a hidden camera broke more than a few privacy laws. Not to mention breaching the terms of his employment agreement. It wouldn’t take much more than a whispered rumor of his actions to ruin an otherwise spotless career. And yet, he was risking it all over a cause he wouldn’t have bothered considering just a week ago. He moved forward on compulsion alone. Mark had no say or even a seat at the table where decisions like these are internally weighed, measured, and acted upon. The switches were thrown, and he was in motion, whether kicking and screaming or quietly complaint. It didn’t matter. He was fighting only himself and his conscience on this one, and he was losing. The enlightened side of him, the usually subdued voice of reason and clarity, was at the controls. He was going to do the right thing whether he liked it or not.
Keeping his distance and doing his own thing had made for a comfortable way of life up until now. He wasn’t searching for some noble, feel-good cause to supplement the emptiness left from childhood trauma or a broken heart. Life was good the way it was. So then
why was he driving to his sister’s house on this beautiful day instead of working on his golf swing? Why was he even thinking about getting involved with a bunch of strangers and their soap opera drama?
His mind replayed the image of those eyes again, drowning in a depth of despair he’d never seen before. That look changed everything. Sealed the deal. Now he was minutes from meeting a group of people that would become his co-conspirators. He slowed and turned into Theresa’s driveway, resigned to do what was right. He crossed his fingers, hoping he wouldn’t feel compelled to make it a habit.
“Ah, good, you’re here!” Murray called from across the room as Mark let himself in. He walked through the bustling hive of activity in Joe’s living room and shook Mark’s hand. “You think you got a good image of her? Good enough to make a positive ID?”
Mark nodded as he handed Murray the video camera and recorder he wore on his rounds the day before.
“That was definitely a new experience,” he said. “I felt like everyone knew what I was up to the whole time.”
“It would have taken a very trained eye to notice this,” Murray said, smiling as he held up the device. The camera lens was concealed in a flag pin that Mark wore on his lab coat. The recorder, not much larger than a typical USB stick, was taped to his chest.
“I’ll get this downloaded,” Murray said, heading back to a folding table where he had assembled his equipment. “Showtime will be in about ten minutes.”
Mark gave his sister a hug, then shook Joe’s hand and accepted a steamy mug of coffee.
“You get it?” Joe asked anxiously.
“Yeah, I think so. We’ll know soon enough either way.” He nodded toward Murray. “So, he’s like some super geek, huh?”
Joe laughed. “Just met the guy myself yesterday, but yeah, that’s the impression I got. Hey, hold on a second.” He turned and flagged Ethan to come to join them. “I want you to meet somebody. Mark, this is Ethan Ludwig. He plays drums for the band I told you about.”
ENEMY WITHIN THE GATES Page 19