The Guardian's Wildchild (15 page)

She stood with her hands on her hips. “I control what goes on or in my own body. I control the what, where, when, why, and the how! If I don’t want a catheter, I won’t have a catheter. I bet, Captain Waterhouse, that’s in
your
rule book too!”

She was so tense she was barely able to take in a breath and began to feel lightheaded. But as long as Sam maintained eye contact, she didn’t dare show weakness. For what felt like an eternal minute, he said nothing and stood firm. Eventually, a hint of a smile appeared on his face.

“Touché. I’ll give you that one.” His smile broadened.

At last she was able to step away and take in a breath.

“Thank you, Captain.”

She wanted to hide the fact that she was trembling, but her knees gave way. Reaching for the bed, she felt the floor sway, and her vision blurred. Sam called out for Lorna just before the darkness surrounded her. As she lost consciousness, she felt Sam wrap his arms around her.

When she opened her eyes moments later, she was back on her bed. He was bent over her, trying to unhook a lock of her hair from a button on his shirt. His face was close to hers.

Weakly, she asked, “What happened, Captain?”

“You fainted.” He frantically wrestled with his shirt’s button entangled with her hair. “I grabbed you just before you hit the floor. Got your hair caught in this button. There!”

He stood up and straightened his shirt. Meanwhile, Lorna fussed with the medical scanner and mumbled to herself, and Dr. Duncan arrived.

Sam stepped aside and reported, “One minute she was talking, and then she collapsed. Caught her before she hit the floor.”

Sidney tried to sit up. The room began to swim again.

“Just got dizzy. That’s all. Really, I’m okay.”

She had the feeling all three people were ignoring her comments. They turned their attention to the machines and gadgets.

“Excuse me, Captain,” said Dr. Duncan as he pushed his way between Sam and the bed. “She looks pale. Lorna, what’s the scanner saying?”

“Possible hypovolemic shock. Not definite. Her blood pressure’s low. She’s had a busy day so far. Perhaps she just needs some rest.”

“Can’t take any chances, Lorna. The spleen could be bleeding, a delayed reaction from the truth serum. Draw up a blood sample. Get her blood count, and start an I.V.”

Dr. Duncan unsnapped Sidney’s pajama top and flung it open, exposing her chest. Sidney was suddenly well aware that Sam was standing at the foot of her bed. She tried to cover herself with her hands while Dr. Duncan continued to palpate the area around her ribs. She focused on the ceiling and winced with every prod of the doctor’s hands on her chest.

She became aware of a towel being flung across her chest. The captain had done it. His dark eyes briefly met hers, and then shifted away. There was little expression on his face, if any. He again maintained his resolute distance, and she chastised herself for being momentarily drawn to those dark brown eyes. “Doctor, perhaps we should ask the patient what she thinks is wrong,” said Sam authoritatively. “After all, it’s her body.”

Dr. Duncan glanced up incredulously at Sam. “I’m going in to do an exploratory. I don’t have the equipment here to rule out internal bleeding, and I’m almost certain that’s what’s happening.”

Sidney held the towel to her chest and struggled to sit up. “You mean surgery? No, absolutely not. I’m not bleeding. There’s no need for surgery. No!”

Dr. Duncan grabbed Sidney to get her to settle back down onto the bed.

“Be quiet,” he demanded.

“Doctor, let her go. She’s fine. Lorna said it herself — she’s had a busy day and took on too much too fast. If she says no to surgery, then we won’t do any surgery on her. Understood?”

Dr. Duncan looked at Sam in disbelief. He let go of Sidney’s shoulders. “Captain … ”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Sam said. “Right now, I’ve got to take this ship out to sea.”

He disappeared through the doorway and out of the infirmary, but in Sidney’s mind, much of Sam’s presence remained in the room. She didn’t know what to think exactly. This man, who’d eventually carry out her execution and who seldom showed a hint of any emotion whatsoever, was considerate of her dignity and then came to her defense. She’d never known anyone quite so bizarre.

Lorna fastened Sidney’s pajama top and coaxed her to relax. “Get some rest. Old Lorna’ll make sure no one gets any scalpels heated up.”

The doctor shook his head and asked Lorna to keep him updated on her vitals. Then he stomped out of the room.

Lorna followed him into his office. “Doc, since when have you been in such a fired up rush to cut someone open? That’s not your style. What gives?”

Dr. Duncan tossed about some papers on his desk in frustration. “I’ve got my reasons.”

“I think you’re just too curious to see what she looks like on the inside.” She chuckled and left the office with her head held high and a wiggle of her hips.

Shortly after her supper tray was removed, Sam appeared at Sidney’s doorway in his usual indifferent manner. “You’ve recovered from this afternoon’s incident?”

She thought it would be appropriate for her to stand to greet him. “Yes, Captain. I want to thank — ”

His raised his hand in the air as he interrupted her. “No need. Stay on your bed, please. All your responses to the next several questions are being recorded. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Sam was confident she saw him as an ally. He’d defended her and displayed respect for her needs. He’d get all the damn questions answered, and he was certain the mystery would have a rational explanation.

“It’s time you received formal notice of the charges laid against you.” His serious expression didn’t betray hostility or any other emotion. He was simply attending to business.

Sidney would’ve preferred to stand, thinking that might take away a little of his dominance, but since he’d requested she stay on her bed, she sat up on her heels, raising herself to above his eye level.

“Captain Butchart advised me briefly of what I was accused of.”

Sam stood almost at attention and read his dissertation as if a judge was present. “Admiral Garland has charged you with sabotage and spying. You’ve been transferred to the USS
Nonnah
for interrogation. I’ll be carrying out the interrogation sessions. Up to three sessions each day. Is that understood?”

“Yes. I already said I’d tell you what you want to know, at least what I remember.”

“I expect your full cooperation. Do you understand the consequences if you’re found guilty of these charges?”

The muscles in Sidney’s stomach tightened. She took one deep breath and looked back at Sam. “I recall mention of an execution, Captain.”

“Correct. I have orders from Admiral Garland to carry out your execution. It will take place within twenty-four hours of confirming your guilt. Two shots at close range to the head with a pistol is the method of the execution. Death is instantaneous. Do you have any questions?”

Sidney’s throat tightened and a chill penetrated to her core. She wanted to ask if he’d have the pleasure of personally carrying out those orders. Instead, she held her tongue and looked toward the porthole.

“About a dozen, but I don’t think I’m ready for the answers yet. My head still feels like it’s in a fog.”

Sam paused momentarily. Instead of following a drill, he mentally sorted files and strategy.

“Do you admit that you defused the nuclear missiles on the New Seattle Naval Base?”

Sidney thought for a moment. “I do remember being in a room with the missiles and that my intent was to defuse them. I believe I was successful.”

“I’ll take that as a yes to my question. Did you have any assistance during the sabotage to gain access to secured facilities?”

“No. No one helped me. I was on my own at all times.”

“How did you gain access to the secured areas, such as the missile room?”

“There was no lock on the missile room’s door.”

“You accessed the subbasement tunnels from the administration building’s stairway. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“The door to the tunnels in the subbasement has a sophisticated locking mechanism. How did you open that door?”

Sidney had to decide if there would be any harm in telling her interrogator of her Guardian telekinetic skills.

“Captain, I can’t answer that.”

“Why not?” he demanded.

She squared her shoulders and made an attempt to show she could equal his tenacity. “Anything connected with my people is off limits.”

“I don’t understand. How are your people connected with you getting a locked door open? Did they provide the knowledge on how to open it?”

Sidney respected the captain’s intelligence. He refrained from emotional reactions and focused only on the facts and logic. She quickly came to the conclusion that she had to be more careful.

“No, Captain. My people don’t have information about that door or its locking mechanism.”

“Ah,
that
door. Is it fair to say they have information on how to open a variety of locking mechanisms?”

“Yes.”

“Therefore, your people are connected to your ability to open
that
door. They’re responsible for you gaining access to the tunnels.”

Sidney stared at Sam. He’d successfully cornered her. “Touché, Captain Waterhouse. I’ll give you that one. But they have nothing to do with me being on the base.”

“Okay, for now, I’ll accept that you were able to unlock that door because of whatever training you’ve received. I’ll also assume that you were trained to defuse the missiles using a similar method. They both operate by electronic devices. As a result, your technique on one would work on the other. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“I’m curious to learn what that method is. For now, we’ll move on to other questions. Number one, why did you defuse the missiles?”

“I was hired to defuse them. That’s all. What difference does it make why?”

“The motive for defusing the missiles is important. For example, if you were doing something illegal to save a life, that would result in a different outcome. If you were defusing the missiles to put the United States of America at a disadvantage in defending Americans or American allies, that’s considered an act of war. Therefore, it’s important that I understand, without any doubts, your motives. Who hired you?”

“Someone concerned about the future of this planet. That’s all I’ll say.”

The captain frowned. “I’ll accept that for now. But I doubt your employer was interested in some mothballed missiles. That was a diversion. What was your primary mission?”

Sidney endeavored not to change her posture, not so much as to even blink. “You have my confession. You have enough to carry out your execution, do you not?”

“It’s not my execution. It’s the U.S. Naval Command’s directive.”

Sidney began to tire but was not going to let this opportunity slide by. She quickly got off the bed and stood close to the captain.

Her eyes narrowed. “I have serious doubts the U.S. Naval Command has any knowledge of me or what I did or that I’m on this ship about to be executed under the U.S. Naval Command’s authority at the direction of Frank Butchart. Do you understand that, Captain Waterhouse?” She maintained eye contact with Sam for a moment, and then, before her knees gave out on her again, climbed back up onto her bed and sat in her lotus position. “No disrespect intended, sir.”

Sam paused. “None taken.” He stood silent for some time and made a mental note of her statement. She’d referred to Butchart — someone she shouldn’t know — in the familiar as “Frank Butchart.” He found that very odd. He shifted his position away from Sidney and studied the scanner above her bed. It had been turned off.

“I should have figured you were feisty. No one goes through what you have and survives without being rather … spirited.”

Sidney was becoming increasingly frustrated with her inability to maintain her mental focus and physical strength. Her body didn’t respond as well to her draw of the healing energy as it had usually done. It felt as though a stronger force was sedating her mind. She shook her head, trying to refocus.