Page 78
Story: Secret Weapon
24
NINE
“Should we call the cops?”Hallie asked, her face paler than Ottie Marquette’s.
“Are you insane?”
I checked outside.The nurses’ station was empty.Had our visitors caused the emergency?I considered it quite likely.After all, that’s the course of action I’d have taken in the same situation.
“Then what should we do?”
“We should ask them nicely who they’re working for.”
“What, just ask them?Here?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.This is a hospital.We’ll take them somewhere quieter.”
Which meant we needed a way to move these assholes.Could we stack them both on the gurney?Possibly, but even with a sheet over the bodies, their bulk would be noticeable.
“How?How do we get them out of here?Will they even fit in your car?”
A sensible question for once.We might be able to wedge them in, but it would be a tight squeeze.I should have bought an SUV instead of a fucking compact.How hadtheyplanned to get out of here?Or had they?Parts of the building were still being refurbished—they could have taken Ottie to a quiet corner and… No, I couldn’t see it.There were workmen on-site.Sticking around would have been too much of a risk.They’d have a vehicle.And if they wanted to ensure she stayed alive, they’d have kept her on the gurney, which meant abigvehicle.
I dialled Alex.After he’d slipped me his number last night, I’d memorised it in a heartbeat.
“It’s me.Don’t talk, just listen.They got here first, and we have two of them alive.They’ll have transport—a truck, a cargo van, something large enough to accommodate a gurney.We need it.”
He didn’t hesitate.“Then I’ll find it.How long?”
“Five minutes.”
I started the timer on my watch.A countdown.If we were still here in five minutes, we’d need bail money.
“Load one of them onto the gurney,” I told Ana.“I’ll be back.”Then I pointed at Hallie.“You—wipe up the coffee.”
Thanks to my previous visits, I was familiar with the supply closet, and I grabbed a set of medium scrubs from the shelf.Just my size.A moment later, I’d pulled them on and stuffed Darla’s dress into a laundry cart.Also into the laundry cart went two more sets of scrubs and a package of surgical masks, plus half a dozen disposable scrub hats and a selection of bed linen.Hmm, my boots looked all wrong, but the scrub pants covered most of the black leather, and unless someone took the time to study me, they’d never notice.And they wouldn’t study me.Cleaners were the invisible army, underpaid and underappreciated.
Two minutes gone, and I was on my way back to Ottie’s room.The nurses’ station was still empty, everyone focused on the ongoing emergency.Healthcare providers placed too much reliance on technology nowadays.If there was a problem, an alarm would ring, right?Not if you simply unplugged the machine.The one time I’d been hospitalised, I’d made Rad sit at my bedside until I was conscious enough to deal with my own shit again.
Fucking appendicitis.
Ana had moved the gurney into the bathroom as far as it would fit, and Moscow was sleeping peacefully on top of it.His friend—Moscow’s Mule?—was wedged into a corner, out of sight in case a nurse reappeared.The coffee was gone.A tense Hallie sat in a chair at Ottie’s bedside, gripping her hand, although I wasn’t sure who was supporting who.Had Ana put Hallie there?Yes, I thought so.Seven was aware of the importance of appearances.
“Put these on.”I held up a pair of scrubs.“In the bathroom.”
At least Hallie followed instructions.
Together, Ana and I bundled the Mule into the cart, then Ana changed her clothes too.Checked my appearance the way she always used to and tucked a stray lock of hair under my cap.I returned the favour as my phone buzzed with a message from Alex.Aw, they’d brought their own ambulance?Cute.They’d need it.
“Our transport is an ambulance.The driver’s immobilised.There’s a side exit to the north—follow the signs for the morgue.”
If you act like you belong, then you will.General Zacharov had given me that piece of advice at the beginning of my training, and I’d taken it to heart.If you looked confident, then ninety-nine percent of the time, nobody would ever question you.
We covered Moscow with a sheet—because nobody would let their gaze linger on a corpse—and Ana steered the gurney while Hallie pushed.I followed up with the Mule in the laundry cart.A nurse passed us, and Ana said, “Hi,” and Hallie said, “Hi,” and I spotted the Portland Thorns keychain in her hand and muttered, “Rather be watching soccer,” and she laughed, and then we were at the door.
Four minutes and fifty-three seconds.
And there was our transport.
NINE
“Should we call the cops?”Hallie asked, her face paler than Ottie Marquette’s.
“Are you insane?”
I checked outside.The nurses’ station was empty.Had our visitors caused the emergency?I considered it quite likely.After all, that’s the course of action I’d have taken in the same situation.
“Then what should we do?”
“We should ask them nicely who they’re working for.”
“What, just ask them?Here?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.This is a hospital.We’ll take them somewhere quieter.”
Which meant we needed a way to move these assholes.Could we stack them both on the gurney?Possibly, but even with a sheet over the bodies, their bulk would be noticeable.
“How?How do we get them out of here?Will they even fit in your car?”
A sensible question for once.We might be able to wedge them in, but it would be a tight squeeze.I should have bought an SUV instead of a fucking compact.How hadtheyplanned to get out of here?Or had they?Parts of the building were still being refurbished—they could have taken Ottie to a quiet corner and… No, I couldn’t see it.There were workmen on-site.Sticking around would have been too much of a risk.They’d have a vehicle.And if they wanted to ensure she stayed alive, they’d have kept her on the gurney, which meant abigvehicle.
I dialled Alex.After he’d slipped me his number last night, I’d memorised it in a heartbeat.
“It’s me.Don’t talk, just listen.They got here first, and we have two of them alive.They’ll have transport—a truck, a cargo van, something large enough to accommodate a gurney.We need it.”
He didn’t hesitate.“Then I’ll find it.How long?”
“Five minutes.”
I started the timer on my watch.A countdown.If we were still here in five minutes, we’d need bail money.
“Load one of them onto the gurney,” I told Ana.“I’ll be back.”Then I pointed at Hallie.“You—wipe up the coffee.”
Thanks to my previous visits, I was familiar with the supply closet, and I grabbed a set of medium scrubs from the shelf.Just my size.A moment later, I’d pulled them on and stuffed Darla’s dress into a laundry cart.Also into the laundry cart went two more sets of scrubs and a package of surgical masks, plus half a dozen disposable scrub hats and a selection of bed linen.Hmm, my boots looked all wrong, but the scrub pants covered most of the black leather, and unless someone took the time to study me, they’d never notice.And they wouldn’t study me.Cleaners were the invisible army, underpaid and underappreciated.
Two minutes gone, and I was on my way back to Ottie’s room.The nurses’ station was still empty, everyone focused on the ongoing emergency.Healthcare providers placed too much reliance on technology nowadays.If there was a problem, an alarm would ring, right?Not if you simply unplugged the machine.The one time I’d been hospitalised, I’d made Rad sit at my bedside until I was conscious enough to deal with my own shit again.
Fucking appendicitis.
Ana had moved the gurney into the bathroom as far as it would fit, and Moscow was sleeping peacefully on top of it.His friend—Moscow’s Mule?—was wedged into a corner, out of sight in case a nurse reappeared.The coffee was gone.A tense Hallie sat in a chair at Ottie’s bedside, gripping her hand, although I wasn’t sure who was supporting who.Had Ana put Hallie there?Yes, I thought so.Seven was aware of the importance of appearances.
“Put these on.”I held up a pair of scrubs.“In the bathroom.”
At least Hallie followed instructions.
Together, Ana and I bundled the Mule into the cart, then Ana changed her clothes too.Checked my appearance the way she always used to and tucked a stray lock of hair under my cap.I returned the favour as my phone buzzed with a message from Alex.Aw, they’d brought their own ambulance?Cute.They’d need it.
“Our transport is an ambulance.The driver’s immobilised.There’s a side exit to the north—follow the signs for the morgue.”
If you act like you belong, then you will.General Zacharov had given me that piece of advice at the beginning of my training, and I’d taken it to heart.If you looked confident, then ninety-nine percent of the time, nobody would ever question you.
We covered Moscow with a sheet—because nobody would let their gaze linger on a corpse—and Ana steered the gurney while Hallie pushed.I followed up with the Mule in the laundry cart.A nurse passed us, and Ana said, “Hi,” and Hallie said, “Hi,” and I spotted the Portland Thorns keychain in her hand and muttered, “Rather be watching soccer,” and she laughed, and then we were at the door.
Four minutes and fifty-three seconds.
And there was our transport.
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