Presidential Donor (11 page)

The voice on the cell phone was just feet away. Jonah's nerve endings began to tingle and fear gripped him. The metallic click of the door handle sent him diving into the first place he could find. Jackets and coat hangers crashed down on top of him as he hit the floor.

Footsteps entered just feet away, and he could hear himself breathing.

Jonah was sure he would be found. Panic stricken, he took one of the coats and placed it over his mouth.
The last thing he needed was to be found in the closet of Bradley's office.

Jonah heard the soft click of the telephone receiver, then a man's voice.

"This is Cogswell."

Jonah had a knack for remembering names of staff, and this was not a name he was familiar with.
Definitely not staff. So why was he in Bradley's office?
Jonah couldn't make out the conversation, but the bits and pieces he heard were about
"McDermott and those other two."
It didn't take much imagination to figure out who the other two were. Whoever this Cogswell guy was, he was out to get them all--mostly Jack.

Outside the closet, something rustled, then footsteps padded away.

Finally, the door closed. Jonah sat alone in the darkness. His body sagged with relief, and he could feel himself breathing again.

He realized he had no idea what to do next.

Jack watched Eva pace the floor as they waited for Jonah to return to the cabin. Every few minutes she would go to the window and look out, then look back at him.

She replaced the blind after the last look, and sat down next to Jack. "He told you not to worry," Jack said.

Eva frowned. "He always tells me that."

"It's good advice."

"You know," Eva said, "I hardly know anything about you, yet I feel like I've known you for a long time."

"Incredible situations tend to do that," Jack said. "Anyway, there's not much to know. I'm a fairly simple guy."

"A simple guy put in an extraordinary set of circumstances," Eva said.

"That about sums it up. How about you, doc, what's your story?"

Eva stopped drumming her fingers on her leg. "Me? I wanna know about you, first.
Before
all of this."

Jack paused. His heart was racing, and he felt like the proverbial teenage boy. This morning, lying in the hospital bed, he had felt depression closing in.

Right now, he felt like he could fly. He looked into the fire as if it held the answer to what she'd asked. He didn't want to say he never talked about his private life to strangers. Especially since Eva was no stranger. She had saved his life. What was this feeling, anyway? Eva smiled, making the answer very clear, but he didn't want to analyze it.

"Well let's see." Jack leaned back and wrapped his hands around his knees. "I'm from Michigan. My father died when I was ten, so my mother raised me. I went to Michigan State. Majored in journalism. Got a job with a political magazine after college, and I've been there ever since. Like I said, fairly simple. That is, until now. I came here to get an interview with the President. You know, this oil summit thing. It was supposed to be my big break. Instead I break my head."

Eva laughed. "Well speaking strictly as a doctor, you're a very lucky man."

Jack felt his body flush. He took Eva's hand. It was small and cold, and he rubbed it a bit to warm it up. "And I'm very lucky to have you and Jonah. You saved my life. More than one time, too. How can I ever thank you for that?"

In front of the fire, Jack realized how incredibly beautiful Eva was. A thick head of auburn hair that fell in ringlets on her shoulders framed the soft lines of her face.

Eva smiled. "If you want to thank me, you can buy me a Glu-vein after this is all over."

"Ah, Glu-vein. It reminds me of Garmish."

"You've been to Garmish?" Eva asked, surprised.

Jack nodded. "Just a week before I came here. I skied the Zugspitz."

"I love Garmish," Eva said. "I can't believe you were just there. I was there not three weeks ago myself."

"I tell you what," Jack said, gazing into her eyes. If and when, we get out of this,
whatever
it is. I'll take you to Garmish and buy you a Glu-vein. I promise."

"I'll hold you to it," she said.

Jack realized he was still holding her hand. Eva seemed to feel the connection, and moved a little closer to him.
Maybe he would reveal more of himself to her after all?
He only hoped he could keep his promise.

It seemed to him, though, someone else had a different idea.

Jonah was momentarily frozen, his mind blank. An instant later, he emerged from the darkness of the closet, and into the dim light of Bradley's desk lamp. He squinted as he listened for more sounds.
Nothing.
He moved toward the door, and noticed a stack of folders on Bradley's desk. On top of the stack was a paper marked: CONFIDENTIAL. He opened the first folder and read the top page, a computer printout from European Organ Procurement Network. His pulse quickened. He held his breath and studied the printout:

POTENTIAL DONOR--JACK G. McDERMOTT

FACILITY--ZURICH TRAUMA

ETD--48 HOURS

RECIPIENT--THOMAS LLOYD

FACILITY----BRIGHTON HEART CENTER

STATUS--EXTREMELY URGENT!

It went on to give diagnosis, prognosis, and a whole list of blood and tissue compatibility reports. Jonah also knew that the ETD next to his name meant:
estimated time of death.
As if in a dream, Jonah read the paper over and over.

Jonah leaned against the desk and stared in astonishment.
Jesus Christ!

No wonder Bradley told Dave Leah, Jack was dead. They were going to use his...

Jonah's mind could not accept what he was seeing. True, Bob Bradley was inept and careless--but he wasn't a murderer. Jonah thumbed through the rest of the folders then closed them up.

He was looking at a conspiracy of an enormous scale.

Going back to the closet, he took out one of the coats he'd knocked down and held it up.
This should fit.
He slipped one arm in, then the other. It was a long way back to Jack and Eva. At least he'd be warm. He grabbed the folders and jammed them inside the coat, then zipped it up.
Now, to get out of here.

Jonah opened the door and peered out. The halls were still deserted and the low hum of a generator was the only sound. He slipped out and closed the door as gently as possible. The smell of freshly waxed floor tile filled the hallway, and he wondered if he would run into the janitor. He stopped and checked his watch.
Almost 10:00 P.M.
At this hour, he would still be working.
He could always make up something about working late.

With his heart pounding, Jonah Bailey padded gently toward the exit as if he were a teenager about to sneak out after curfew. He grabbed the handle of the big steel door and shoved it open. Pulling up the collar of his new coat, he threw a quick glance down the hall, took a deep breath, then stepped into the cold night air.

* * *

Four floors below Jonah, Helga Samulson's eyes bulged in their sockets, and she stifled a scream. A gloved hand had appeared from behind her and now had a death grip on her neck. She tried to cry out, but her lungs were screaming for air as the assailant squeezed tighter and tighter. Finally, with the life draining out of her, Helga Samulson's knees buckled, and she slid to the floor as her eyes rolled back in her head....

* * *

"I don't like this, Cogswell. I don't like it one bit," Frank Bahr said.

"I don't really give a shit whether you like it or not. I'm sure your wife wouldn't like your little tryst with Nadia whatever the hell her name was."

"Oh you know her name all right," Bahr said.

Cogswell would never admit it, but he had set the whole thing up so he could have Bahr in his pocket--and indeed--it had worked. It was 1978. A new CIA agent, Bahr, and his boss, Denton Cogswell, were assigned to the American Embassy in Nuremberg, under the guise of being attaches'.

Nadia was the secretary for the German consulate there. A dark haired beauty with classic Mediterranean features, Bahr noticed her immediately; and
Cogswell picked up on it immediately
. The affair started innocently enough. Bahr, a young agent far from home, his marriage although solid, was in the critical seven-year-itch period; Nadia, according to Cogswell--was available.

It didn't take much to prompt Bahr into what happened next. Cogswell had set him up good: cameras in the room, a night of passion for Bahr and Nadia, caught on film--Cogswell had Bahr in his pocket. He knew Bahr's weak point all too well. All Bahr ever talked about was his wife and kids. A stark contrast to Cogswell's feelings, or lack thereof, for his family. Bahr would do anything to keep his wife from finding out about his mistake. And he swore to himself he would never make the same mistake again.

Cogswell knew Bahr would do anything to keep his past affair secret
--even kill.

"Yea, let's not forget those dandy pictures," Cogswell said. "Now let's get going, we've got lots of work to do."

Headlights fell on Jonah from the hospital parking lot and he ducked head first behind a hedgerow. An ambulance cruised by and he waited for it to get around the building before he moved toward the road.

As Jonah waited, his mind went through a myriad of emotions.

Shock, betrayal, confusion, rage.

As a forensic pathologist, he had come across many disturbing things.

However, they paled in comparison to what he had learned tonight.
National security, my ass!

Now, he needed to get back to Jack and Eva. The three of them had to get somewhere safe. He spotted a phone booth across from the hospital entrance, and darted toward it. He stumbled and slipped on some ice, nearly dropping all Jack's records. Now, he stood in the phone booth and caught his breath.
If I ever get out of this... I'm getting my treadmill out of the attic.

When he finally reached the cab service, the dispatcher informed him it was going to be a half hour before someone could get him.

"Okay, but send them soon, it's cold," he said, then huddled on the ledge of a pharmacy window. He wanted to call Eva, but didn't have her cell phone number. Jonah hoped whoever was looking for them had given up their search. At least temporarily, till he could figure out what to do with Jack.

A Ford sedan passed and Jonah felt his heart come to a stop. They eyed him suspiciously. Jonah watched, ready to bolt behind the building if the car turned around. They kept going and his eyes followed until they were out of sight.

The cab arrived ten minutes later. He climbed in the SL series Mercedes, barely able to get his bulk in the seat. He found it amusing that this vehicle, so prized as a status symbol in the United States, was used a taxi in Switzerland.

"Where are we going?" the driver asked.

"I'll have to show you," Jonah said, not exactly sure of the directions.

"Just head out of town and turn left at the bridge," he said, remembering the directions Eva had given him during their flight from the morgue.

From the window, he watched the last of the city lights behind them, and tried to concentrate. He'd had enough experience in the hospital to know that

Bradley's function was for the hospital's best interest, not that of the individual. Here the stakes were so high, how could Jonah expect him to?
He couldn't!
Still, this was unthinkable.

He turned and peered out the back of the taxi, trying to determine if he was being followed. Traffic was light and it seemed unlikely, but he couldn't be certain. Everything looked different at night, and for a minute, he thought he had missed the turn to Eva's. Then he saw the sign for the ski resort. He knew she lived close to it. He leaned forward in the seat. "Turn up here." He'd have the driver drop him at the corner in case they were watching her house.

Jonah paid the driver and thanked him, then got out. The taxi sped away the second the door closed. The sound of the car died away quickly in the darkness. In its wake was a heavy silence, broken only by the occasional hiss of cars on the invisible main road.

Jonah looked around to get his bearings, and spotted Eva's chalet just ahead on the left. From there he only need go to the bottom of the hill.

With a surge of adrenaline, Jonah dashed across the street and into the trees. The Blue Spruce wore a jacket of fresh snow giving the effect of a white canopy above him. He scrambled in deeper and to his surprise, saw several cabins with lights on. Jonah had no idea which one he was looking for. He'd be able to tell when he got close. He remembered some bright red Swiss emblem on the door.

He moved quickly but carefully down the hill, his breath coming in ragged gasps. There were patches of ice where water had run off the trees during the day and frozen and he steered clear of them. Suddenly, he smelled the unmistakable odor of seasoned-wood burning. Smoke bellowed above the trees and disappeared. No lights were on, but he figured it must have been coming from a cabin nearby.

He emerged in a clearing and saw it. Directly in front of him, he recognized the bright red emblem.
Thank God!

Jonah shoved the door open, his massive frame occupying the entire doorway.

Eva jumped to her feet. "Thank goodness, Jonah, you're here," she said.

"I'm all right. Really."

"Come sit by the fire, Eva said. "We're anxious to hear what happened."

Jonah let his expression remain blank.

"Is it
that
bad?" Jack asked.

"You'd better sit down," Jonah said.

Jack sighed. "It
is
that bad then?"

Jonah pulled off his coat and sat the file of folders down on a small table near the door.