Out of the Black (25 page)

Anne touched Hawthorne's arm. "So, how's about we get out of here before more mystery men show up?" She whispered.

"There will be more questions..." Hawthorne led Anne away from Josh and the two others staring through the Anne-hole in the wall.

"Thanks guys!" Anne said, holding her hand up as they moved away. All three were shaking their heads. "No prob, Anne." Josh said. "You get stuck in any more walls, don't hesitate to call."

They'd already done the badge exchange, so the officers just nodded as Hawthorne approached with Anne in tow. "Who were they?" Hawthorne asked.

The ranking officer, an age-rounded man of about fifty, responded. "The one your partner shot is an FBI agent named Neiland, according to the badge and Uni on him. Problem is that he doesn't appear in their database. Might have been undercover, I guess..."

"...but then why carry his badge?" Hawthorne asked.

"Good question. We're trying to find a human in his chain of command at the Bureau for confirmation, though that could take some time." He hesitated. "Then there's the other possibility..."

"That he was impersonating an agent? Pretty serious." She looked thoughtful.

"Not nearly as serous as shooting one." The Officer's open face and clear eyes contained no humor. They both nodded, thinking imponderable thoughts.

The officer broke the silence, "The other three are also carrying federal badges, same story. You know any of them?"

Hawthorne shook her head slowly. Her grip tightened on Anne's elbow. "Was he in possession of anything weird? Strange machines, that kind of thing."

"Nope. Badge, gun, Uni, tablet, stat cast on his left shoulder."

"What happened to the shoulder?"

"Prelim scans indicate gunshot wound, fairly recent but well healed. The shot shattered most of the bones in there. 'Nother interesting thing: This wasn't the first time he's been shot. Scans picked up four other wounds, all old... and none too minor either."

"We'll be across the hall, let me know if there are any new developments." She said, leading Anne toward the door.

The door opened into a hallway cordoned off by the police. There were two more officers here. Instead of heading for the room across the hall, they turned right toward the elevators. Hawthorne pushed the down call button and they waited uneasily until the elevator arrived. Inside the elevator, Anne started to speak, but Hawthorne silenced her with a gesture. Hawthorne pressed the button for the fifth floor... trauma OR. On the way down, Hawthorne accessed the hospital's records to determine Mendez's location.

They got off the elevator and went down the hall to OR-3's observation room. They moved quickly up the flight of stairs and through the door into darkness. Anne switched on the lights. Hawthorne approached the observation window.

Below, two doctors leaned over the surgical console on the casket-sized surgical bed. Mendez wasn't visible inside the hermetically sealed operating bed. The surgeons' hands were in the control ports. Inside the bed, nanoprobes performed the delicate weaving that could mend bones, stitch veins and capillaries- macro to microsurgery. At Mendez's feet, a tech monitored the patient and operating equipment so the doctors could focus on the surgery.

Hawthorne used her tablet to access the operating theater's schedule for a progress report. The damage was serious, but no longer life threatening. The ETA for the room to become available was less than ninety minutes. This implied that it would be around an hour before Mendez came off the table and another few hours of observation before he could be transported to another hospital.

Hawthorne accessed a communication window on her tablet, opened a link and waited. A pretty woman of about thirty-five with dark Latin features appeared. Her professional demeanor quickly softened. "Sarah! You better not be making lame excuses for Kyle again."

"Elena..."

"You're his partner, not his mother, you know... If he's gonna be late, then put the workaholic on the screen so he can take his medicine like a man."

Hawthorne's face remained grave. "I'd say 'don't worry', but then you'd get the wrong idea entirely. But pretend I did, because everything's gonna be okay."

On the screen, the woman's elfish face hardened with concern. "What?"

"I need you to come to Mercy Memorial right away..."

"No!" Denial, not refusal.

"Listen to me! I need you to come
hard
, you understand? I need you to call Derry, call Todd. Get here right away, come
hard
- you hearing me?"

"Yes. Come to the hospital, bring the calling circle and the utility belt, I'm taking it we're not punching in?" Though a small quaver could be heard, it affected a voice of controlled efficiency.

"Nope. We're off in the weeds on this one... way off. This is like nothing I've seen before... nothing. Don't trust anyone, not even badges. Kyle's down."

"Down?" The emotional edge moved toward the center of her voice, unwinding it somewhat.

"But not out... hurry. We're not going to be able to move for about an hour. Be here by then. We'll need a wagon and as much hardware as you can pack." Hawthorne broke the connection. She could feel the clock ticking.

***

Ping arrived in the doorway to the living room, fletcher in hand. Through the large windows, the last of the evening sun was shrouded in dark, crimson-tinged clouds. A storm was coming, and it looked like it was going to be a big one.

Rae and Alex were on the couch, their backs to him. He hoped he wasn't interrupting anything. They weren't speaking, so he strode forward into the room.

A few steps in, he heard a sob coming from the couch. Oops. He stopped and began to slink backwards, but it was too late.

"What'cha got, Detective?" Alex asked over his shoulder. Rae sat up straight, wiping quickly at her eyes.

"Useful gadgets." Ping replied, resuming his forward course. He circled the couch and laid the fletcher and harness on the coffee table before them. Rae looked terrible, shaken. Her eyes fixed on the gun.

"Dek pointed me to Roy's weapons. This one's for you, Rae." She didn't look up from the weapon.

Alex changed the subject, "Do you think he's going to make it?"

Ping gave the brave face, "If anyone can find Kaspari in time, it's him."

Alex filled the silence with, "What's next for us?"

Ping looked at Alex. "I thought you'd have a better answer for that than me."

"Yeah, that's what I want to hear." Alex snorted, "I'm a history TA."

Ping's turn to snort, "Yeah. Exactly." He paused. "First, we need to get out of here."

Rae looked up. "Why?"

"These hunters, whoever they are, knew Roy and Lutine well enough to set a fairly elaborate trap for them; knew enough about Alex or you to track you to the library archive."

"You're saying they know where Roy lived." Alex said.

"Not only that, they can probably locate Kaspari as well, and whether Dek reaches him in time or not, they might not be able to come back here."

"If we leave, how will we hook up with Dek and Kaspari?" Rae asked.

"No problem." Alex said, "Last night Dek had me insert a locator into him."

Ping winced. "Do I want to know where you inserted it?"

Alex laughed, "It's not a physical thing. It's a Cast like putting your thumb in a book so you can find your place again later."

Ping's wince intensified. "Nope, I definitely do
not
want to know where you put your thumb."

"So, you're asking me to believe you don't know any more than that?" Hawthorne asked, incredulous.

"I've told you everything I know." Anne said truthfully. It had only taken about five minutes, including exasperated pauses and questions. Anne had quite a few weird experiences to relate, but no reasons for any of it.

"I guess a vampire did make out with you..." Hawthorne said, mostly to herself.

"Of course, I haven't had any blood lust yet, though, come to think of it, I haven't eaten since before... and your partner did drink my Slim Quick shake..." Anne trailed off, fixing Hawthorne with a curious expression.

"Don't you even think about it!" Hawthorne took half a step back in the small observation room, raising a warning finger between them.

"Y'know, I am quite hungry, or should I say 'thirsty'..." but Anne could only hold the sinister stare for another second or two before the smile entered her eyes, and then pulled at the corners of her lips. After a few more seconds Hawthorne smiled too.

"Seriously," Anne said, "I saw some vending machines in the hall outside. Unless you want me feasting on your corpse, perhaps I should try some snacks and a can of juice."

"I'm not letting you out of my sight..." Hawthorne started, finger again upraised; but then she noticed that the door was swinging shut and the sound of wind was already fading like a mirage. She might have seen a mischievous smile on Anne's face, but she couldn't be sure. "Wait!" She yelled in the small empty room. Then she wrestled out her pistol and ran to the door.

She pushed through the door and stopped short just centimeters from Anne's smiling face. She almost kept her surprised cry under wraps. Her left hand flew to her mouth as if to stop the startled bleat. She was still recovering her composure when Anne said "You really want to get between a woman like me and the snack machines?"

Hawthorne was still off balance from the shock. She shook her head feebly. Surprisingly, the startled fear resolved into bemused affection, rather than the fury she had expected. She had to admit that she liked this horribly powerful woman of dubious impulse control. She just hoped she didn't end up as a midnight snack.

"I'll buy." Hawthorne said, fishing for her Uni.

***

The man in the Hawaiian shirt entered the deserted lobby of the hospital. He carried an athletic bag, and walked with a slight limp. He was perhaps forty-five, heavy, but not overweight. He was tall, but not scraping the doorframes. He looked pleasant, but uncomfortable.

The lobby's only other occupant was a uniformed hospital guard behind the reception desk. "Sir, our ER is closed. We can get you a shuttle to DePaul if you need non-urgent treatment..."

"Nah." The visitor drawled, "I'm here to visit one of yer inmates." He favored the guard with a bright smile and continued toward the other end of the lobby. "Ya know, you've got a bunch of vagrants out there." He said, glancing back toward the door to the ambulance run.

The guard moved from behind the desk and intercepted the visitor a few meters from the inner door. "Sir! Visiting hours are temporarily..."

"All right, sonny. I admit it... I'm here for some of that elective surgery." He slapped his butt and winced. "I just don't want it hollered all about the building, okay buddy?"

"Uhhhh... oh..." the guard stumbled for a few beats but then finally regrouped. He moved between the visitor and the door again as the visitor tried to step past. "Sir, the Feds have the building locked down... there's some kind of investigation underway..."

He never hit the floor. The man in the loud shirt grabbed the guard before the stunner rendered him unconscious. Now without his limp, the big man dragged the insensate guard back to the chair behind the desk. He sat the unconscious guard in the chair, knocking a potted plant from the desk as he arranged the guard in an approximation of sleep.

As he replaced the plant on the desk, two women slipped in through the outer doors. The first was Elena Mendez, her dark hair now pulled back into a ponytail. The other was fair-skinned with glossy red hair. Both had the same determined look and efficient manner. As the women passed the scanners, the Hawaiian-shirted man used the security console to approve the many weapons beneath their light jackets and in their dufflebags.

"Subtle. As always, Derry." The redhead said as they approached.

"The word you're looking for is 'effective'." The big man said, using his foot to sweep dirt from the upended plant beneath the desk.

***

Anne was mowing through the second pack of vending machine donuts. They were bland and far too healthy to truly be called donuts, but this was a hospital, not a den of culinary iniquity. She was starving, but she still had issues with anything vegetable-infused being called a donut. Nothing says yummy like a broccoli-infused, protein-enriched, amino-balaned, chocolate-spice-flavored, piece of baked heaven from Sara Lee.

With a mental shudder that ended in a shrug, she reached for another. "Well, at least I'm not restricted entirely to blood!" She enthused around the food. "You don't know how relieved this makes me!"

Hawthorne took a sip of her protein smoothie and nodded. "Me too."

***

The whispercraft touched down on the roof of the hospital. It disgorged its compliment of five hard men and two harder women. As the last boot hit the roof, the craft took off, moving into a holding pattern above.

Three of the men were wearing suits and carrying Federal badges, which was to say they were in disguise. Two other men and one of the women wore dark, durable street clothes. The final woman wore an elegant suit the color of dark chocolate. Her skin and lustrous black hair belied her roots. She'd been born in sunny Goa, on the Indian coast, but now Shiva called no place home. For four hundred years now, her only home was Asado.

On her fingers were eight delicate rings of platinum and rubies. Around her neck was a dark leather choker. Her thick, straight hair was pulled back, fastened at the nape of her neck with more platinum and rubies. She strode ahead of the rest toward the roof access, arrogance in her face and stride.

Those in the guise of Federal agents had only light armament, but the comfortably dressed had brought all the tools of their trade. Shiva wore no weapons, but then she needed none.

At the elevator bank on the twenty-fourth floor they stopped. A few minutes later, they had hacked into the security system and located their prey in the observation room for OR-3.

Shiva's eyes lost focus for a moment and the lights flickered, then flickered again briefly. She smiled and her eyes fluttered open. "Ok, the wireless trunks are down, but I'll need to get to the basement to cut the hard wires." Another glance, and the elevator door before her opened, revealing the dark shaft.