Edge of Tomorrow (84 page)

Sara sipped her drink and replied, “She’s
really upset. She said to tell you that she will do anything you
ask if she can help. She’s another one of us gals who love your
fiancé, you know. Karen and Carmelo are crushed, too, and send
their love. Karen wants to talk to you as soon as you’re up to
it.”

Syd took a long pull on her Stoli on the
rocks and motioned to the waiter. He came over to their table.

“Yes, ma’am?” he asked.

“Hit us again, and could you bring me a pack
of cigarettes? Anything with a filter,” asked Syd.

“Certainly,” he said as he headed toward to
the bar.

“Maybe we should try and eat something before
we go back to the hospital. Their food sucks, and it will be awhile
before Dr. Brent gets here,” said Sara.

The waiter arrived with their fresh drinks
and Syd’s cigarettes. She opened them and took one out, and the
waiter lit it for her. He dropped a pack of matches on the table as
he left. Syd took a deep drag and exhaled slowly.

“Maybe you’re right, Sara. I’m not hungry,
but I know I have to eat something.”

“It looks weird seeing you smoke.”

“It feels good right now,” said Syd as she
took another drag, then she added, “I’m scared shitless, Sara!”

“So am I, Syd!”

• • •

Syd and Sara met Dr. John Brent in the
hospital waiting room. He was short and gaunt with thinning, gray
hair. A narrow mustache adorned his upper lip, and his blue eyes
bored into Syd’s as he took her hand with a firm grip.

“Doctor, you have to save him!” blurted Syd,
tears welling up in her eyes again.

“I’ll do my best, Ms. Steppe. I’m going to
look at the X-rays now and see what I’m up against,” he replied in
a voice that was deeper than Syd had expected.

“Thank you for coming so quickly!” Syd
continued with emotion.

“Your Mr. Winsocki made an offer I could
hardly refuse,” he chuckled. “Relax please. I’ll talk to you again
shortly and tell you what we can do.”

He and Dr. Jenkins left the waiting room,
leaving Syd and Sara to suffer along with the other poor souls
waiting for word on the status of their loved ones.

Syd led Sara to the outside atrium so she
could have a cigarette. Her nerves were stretched like a rubber
band and were about to snap. Sara tried to stop her from pacing,
but Syd could sit no longer, so she continued pacing and smoking
for five or so minutes. Then she dragged Sara back into the waiting
room and stared at the paintings on the wall.

“These paintings are terrible! How can a
person feel relaxed with shit like this to look at?” exclaimed
Syd.

“Here, sit, Syd! I know you’re coming out of
your fucking skin—so am I! Ah! Here comes Dr. Brent!” said
Sara.

Dr. Brent said, “I’m going to give this a
try, though it’s very tricky. I won’t go into medical jargon to
snow you. In simple terms, I have to remove the bullet from next to
his heart, repair a tear in the heart muscle, and patch the holes
in his lung. This operation will take at least four hours, maybe
longer, so why don’t you leave a number where I can reach you, and
go and get some rest. We’ll call you when there is something to
tell you—one way or the other.”

He spun around and left them again. Syd
suddenly had a sharp pain behind her eyes as she remembered the
horrible dream she had in Syros: Death riding a pale horse, coming
for Hatch, and her battle to save him. How did it end? Had she won?
Or lost? She could not remember anything after she charged Zeus on
the mountain top, screaming like a banshee.

I did destroy Death and steal his horse!
Have I done all I can do now? What else can I possibly do? Please,
God, help him! Help me! What should I do?

“Come on, Syd. Let’s go find a place to
wait,” said Sara, touching Syd’s elbow. “This fucking hospital is
driving me crazy!”

Sara was hurting almost as much as Syd. Her
life had revolved around Hatch for several years. She could not
comprehend daily life without him.

“Where can we go, Sara? I want to stay close
by—in case they call.”

“There’s a hotel a few blocks away where we
put up visiting dignitaries. Let’s grab a room there and take a
shower. I’ll call Mrs. C. and have her send us a change of clothes
over in the chopper, then have Packy pick them up and bring them to
us. I’ll get Packy to drive us over to the hotel right now. He’s
standing by outside,” replied Sara.

“Thanks, Sara. I don’t know what I’d do
without you. I moved most of my stuff to my new condo today. I’ll
give Packy my key so he can get me some stuff from there.”

Sara called Packy on her Blue Phone and told
him where to meet them. They walked out through the atrium, through
a gate, and into the parking lot. Packy drove up in a Lincoln Town
Car. He stopped it, then jumped out and held the back door for
them. They briefed him on Hatch’s status, and what the doctor was
doing. He drove them to the hotel Sara had mentioned and again
opened the door for them.

As they left the car, Sara said to Packy,
“Packy, the chopper will be bringing some clothes for me from Klaus
Haus. Can you go to the airport and meet it, then run the stuff
over to us, please? In the meantime, you can get Syd some stuff
from her condo.”

“Glad to, Sara. I need to be doing something.
This waiting is the shits!” he replied.

• • •

When they closed the hotel room door behind
them, they both sank onto the couch and sighed.

“This fucking situation sucks,” exhaled
Sara.

“It’s worse than that,” replied Syd. “Do you
mind if I shower first? My skin is crawling.”

“Go ahead, Syd. I’ll call Mrs. C. now, and
then let the hospital know where we are.”

• • •

Three hours later, they were both showered
and dressed in clean clothes from the skin out. They both felt a
little better, but not much. Syd was pacing again.

“Sara, are we doing everything we can? I feel
so helpless!” Syd groaned.

“You got Hatch the best doctor in the fucking
world for this kind of problem. I don’t know what else to do.”

“I keep thinking, ‘What would Hatch do if
things were reversed?’ He always knew just what to do about any
situation. I think he would track down the bastard who did it and
blow his friggin’ brains out! I don’t even know how to start doing
that,” Syd continued.

“That’s something we can kick around. I’d
sure like to get my hands on the asshole!” exclaimed Sara. “Let’s
see how this operation goes, then we can focus on that. I can’t
think right now!”

“Me either, and it pisses me off! I can’t
take anymore of this! It’s been nearly four hours. Call Packy. I
want to get back to the hospital!”

• • •

When they got back to the hospital, a nurse
told them Hatch was still in the OR. Syd went to the small chapel
and tried to talk with God again. She had not done that in years.
She had been there fifteen minutes when Sara came and got her.

“A nurse told me that the doctor wants to
talk to us in five minutes.”

They hurried back to the waiting room and
this time they both paced nervously. The doctor finally arrived and
made them sit again.

“He came through the procedure well,” he said
in his deep voice. “He is very weak, of course, and the next twelve
hours will give us a better indication of how things will turn
out.”

Syd blurted emotionally, “But … he’s
alive?”

“Yes, very much so. We have him on life
support for now, because I gave him a coma-inducing drug to keep
him very still while he begins the healing process. We wouldn’t
want him coughing or something, would we? Might tear all my fine
work loose,” he chuckled.

“Can I see him?” pleaded Syd.

“He is being moved to ICU now.” He looked at
his watch. “They should have him settled in twenty minutes or so.
You can see him for a few minutes then. I’m going to keep him this
way for at least 72 hours, then we’ll see.”

“Thank you, doctor!” exhaled Syd.

• • •

Seeing Hatch did little to relieve Syd’s
apprehension. He had a breathing tube in his mouth, several IV
leads feeding a needle inserted in a vein in his arm, and was
attached to several machines displaying every possible vital sign.
Syd noticed that the heart monitor seemed normal—at least, not a
flat line.

Sara exclaimed, “He looks like shit! Are you
sure he’s OK?”

Dr. Brent frowned and replied, “Hopefully, he
will improve in time, and his color will get better. Keep me
informed as to your whereabouts and I will call you if there is any
change.”

Syd said, “You’re going to stay here until
he’s out of danger, aren’t you?”

He smiled, “Yes, Ms. Steppe. The arrangement
Mr. Winsocki and I arrived at included that.”

Good old Marty! He doesn’t leave anything
open to renegotiation!

“
Where are his personal belongings?”
asked Syd.

The ICU nurse answered, “His clothes were cut
off him, of course, but the contents of his pockets are in a box in
this closet.”

She opened the closet and Syd took the box
and looked in it. His Blue Phone and pager were there, along with
his wallet, a ring of keys—she had never seen him use a key
before—a handkerchief, some loose change, half a pack of
cigarettes, and his Zippo lighter. She put all of it into her large
purse. She took a pen and notepad and wrote down the series of
digits which would activate Hatch’s pager. She handed it to Dr.
Brent.

“This will page me wherever I am in the
world. Please call me about anything! Anything at all!” said Syd,
her voice cracking.

The doctor put the paper in his pocket and
said he would. Sara and Syd left the ICU and Packy drove them back
to their hotel.

Sara said, “Syd, dear, there’s nothing we can
do here for three days—maybe longer. Let’s go back to Klaus Haus
for now. We have a better support system there. We’re only minutes
away by chopper if they call us. What do you say?”

Syd thought a moment, then replied, “You’re
right, Sara. Let’s check out of here and go home.”

Sara noticed her use of the word “home.”
That’s what they did.

• • •

Back at Klaus Haus, Syd calmed down a little
and remembered she had not called Hatch’s parents. At least, she
had a glimmer of hope to offer them, which she did not have five
hours before. They were crushed, of course, and said they would
call Hatch’s brother, Vernon, in Los Angeles, and that they would
get to the hospital as soon as they could.

Syd had said to the General, “Yes, you may
want to do that, even though he’s in a coma. I don’t want you
driving. Where’s the nearest heliport? I’ll send the chopper to
pick you up.”

The General replied quickly, “Thanks, Sydney.
I don’t feel much like driving. How are you holding up?”

“Not well, General. Not good at all. I hate
this waiting!”

She made arrangements for the chopper to go
pick up the Lincolns and take them to Miami, then bring them to
Klaus Haus after they visited the hospital. She insisted that they
stay at Klaus Haus for awhile. There was plenty of room, and Mrs.
C. had prepared a suite for their use.

Syd did not realize how easily she had fallen
into the role of giving orders and arranging things. Everyone did
her bidding without question. When all the calls had been made, Syd
and Sara settled in to comfortable leather loungers in the library.
Mrs. C. had Eddie roll in a portable bar so they could help
themselves to drinks, which they did. It was 8:30 P.M. by then, and
Mrs. C. urged them to let her fix them a light supper, and they
agreed.

Syd said to Sara, “I couldn’t believe it when
that courier showed up at 7 o’clock with my Blue Phone and pager!
That Marty is something else! And doesn’t spare expense when it
comes to security! I doubt if there was a more expensive way to
send that stuff. The courier probably flew first class, too!”

“I guess I don’t blame him. These phones have
cutting edge technology, and I know Hatch is paranoid about any
outsider getting hold of one to take apart,” replied Sara as she
sipped on her drink.

“Sara, we need to find out who is behind this
assassination attempt, but I don’t have a clue as to where to
start. I need your help on this.”

Sara put her drink down on the table between
their two loungers and replied, “We’re not the cops, but we have
enormous resources at our disposal.”

“But I don’t know what they are, or how to
use them!” groaned Syd.

Sara answered, “I could list some and we
could develop a strategy, but since you have access to Martin
Winsocki, it might be better to talk to him first. He knows exactly
where all our resources are and how to use them. I know Hatch
always used to give him complex things to get done. There are
things in Hatch’s empire that even I don’t know about.”

“I wonder how the cops are doing on the
helicopter ID. I suspect they would never tell me. This is way
bigger than the cops, anyway. The FBI should be handling this! I
think you’re right about Marty. He might have some idea about who
wants Hatch dead, too. Hatch could have all sorts of enemies in the
corporate world that I’ve never heard of. Let’s make a list of
things we’d like to know. Then, tomorrow I’ll call him and see what
happens.”

Eddie arrived with a tray of sandwiches and a
tureen of hot tomato soup and set up folding trays in front of them
so they could eat in comfort. They thanked him and he left them
alone.

Sara said, “Would you look at that? I never
get used to this! Mrs. C. cut the fucking crusts off the bread for
these sandwiches, and there’s a sprig of parsley! She’s something
else! I know she’s as devastated over this as we are, but she keeps
that British stiff upper lip!”

“Keeping busy is the key to surviving this.
That’s what we’re going to do,” said Syd as she reached for a
triangle of an egg salad sandwich. “I feel as if I’ve grabbed onto
a tornado and can’t turn loose!”