Authors: Jack Higgins
A Darker Place (34 page)
“And Alex?” Katya asked.
“Much more serious. His bulletproof vest stopped the first round, but the second caught him in the hip and fractured the pelvis. He’s going to need a plate, and that’s being attended to now.”
Katya said, “That’s not too good, is it?”
Surprisingly, it was Svetlana who said, “He’s alive, which, considering his activities in past years, is a miracle. The hip will mend—there is excellent therapy available these days.” She shrugged. “The love of a good woman. Who knows?”
Maggie Duncan said, “He isn’t going to die. We specialize in desperate cases here, so I’m an expert. I expect you’ll want to hang on for the long haul? We have accommodations available if you’d like.”
Katya glanced at Svetlana, who nodded. “Thank you, we’d like that.”
Dillon and Monica got up. “We’d better be off.”
“Me too,” Billy said.
They went, and Maggie Duncan said, “I’ll have one of the girls bring you some fresh tea.” She turned to go, and Professor Bellamy came in wearing theater scrubs. Maggie made the introductions.
“I won’t pretend it isn’t serious,” he said. “It is and it will take time, but he will respond to the right treatment. His friend is a different story. He’ll be up and about quite soon, but let me say this about your nephew, Mrs. Kelly. He has been wounded many times. He can’t continue like this.”
Svetlana smiled. “We’ll try to see that he doesn’t.”
“Give it an hour, then you can look in, but don’t stay too long,” and he left them there.
THEY HAD MORE tea and a sandwich, and about an hour later, the outer door opened and Roper appeared in his wheelchair, followed by Ferguson. The General was in excellent spirits.
“I’ve just had Bellamy on my phone telling me how things stand with our two heroes. We’ve played the whole episode down, so there won’t be any media follow-up. I think we can get away with it. We’ve put out a cover story on the boat exploding. An overheated gas tank, pure accident. No one could see or hear anything anyway, so I think we’ll be all right there too.”
“And where does that leave Alex?” Katya asked.
Roper answered. “Remember what I said? That he could always sit around somewhere, let his hair grow, write a truly great book, and reappear on the international scene when it suited him? The Americans have agreed to give him asylum, so he can start that process whenever he wants to—wherever he wants to.”
“And this friend of his?”
“Bounine? Asylum—from us—too. He can work for me.”
Maggie looked in. “He’s stirring. If you want to take a quick look, do.”
Katya turned to Svetlana, who shook her head. “I can see him anytime now, thanks be to God. You go, my dear.”
Katya opened the door and stepped in. The light was dim and he was propped up, a cage over him from the waist down. He looked very frail lying there, his head bald, the eyes closed. She moved closer, filled with an incredible tenderness.
His eyes flickered open. “Katya, is that you?”
“Yes, Alex.”
“Good.” His eyes closed again.
She went out, full of energy, dazzled by hope. Ferguson and Svetlana were talking, and stopped, and Svetlana said, “How is he?”
“He’s well, I think, and he’ll be better.” She turned to Ferguson. “What you were talking about—Alexander’s future? Is that a definite offer, slate wiped clean?”
“Absolutely, my word on it.”
“And you can do that?”
General Charles Ferguson smiled, and for a moment there was a touch of the wolf there. “My dear lady, I can do anything,” he said.
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