Page 47 of The Condemned (Echoes from the Past #6)

THIRTY-SEVEN

Ramstein Air Base, Germany

Rhys zipped up his coat, slung his carryall over his shoulder, and followed Lieutenant McBain off the aircraft.

It was bitterly cold, and a hazy winter sun shone from a nearly colorless sky.

The light reflected off the silver airplane, making Rhys wish he’d worn his sunglasses.

Two ambulances approached the newly arrived aircraft, the paramedics ready to transport the patients who’d been brought over from Kabul to the medical center.

Lieutenant McBain gestured to an army vehicle waiting at the edge of the airfield.

“You’re with me,” he said to Rhys. “I’ll drop you off at the hospital.

I hope your friend’s doing okay. I was there the day she was brought in.

She was a mess, let me tell you. We all thought she was a goner.

She must be a tough little thing.” Rhys inwardly cringed at the insensitive words but didn’t say anything.

The young man meant well. “She was lucky to be alive. The kid that was with her took a beating. Lost a leg. He’s lucky he didn’t lose both. ”

“I don’t think he sees himself as being very lucky,” Rhys replied as he buckled his seat belt.

“Well, that’s your ‘glass half full’ versus ‘glass half empty’ conundrum,” Lieutenant McBain replied with a grin. “There’s many a soldier that’ll take losing a leg over getting blown to bits. Of course, there are injuries that make being blown to smithereens look appealing.”

“Like what?” Rhys asked, genuinely curious.

“There’ve been a couple of boys who stepped on mines.

The blast hit them right between the legs, blew their private parts off.

It’s bad enough to lose your legs, but to lose the family jewels is really adding insult to injury.

They had to have reconstructive surgery, but from what I hear, their new equipment is nothing to write home about.

Man, can you imagine having to tell your wife that bit of news? I’d rather be dead and buried.”

“Are you married, Lieutenant?”

“Married, with two kids. This is my third tour, and if I sign up for another one, my Sherry will castrate me with a kitchen knife. Can’t say I’d blame her. Our third is due at the end of May. I’ll be home by then, God willing. It’s a boy this time. I can’t wait. You got any kids?”

“No.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing, man.

My heart melts when I see my girls. This is why I’m doing this.

For them. I want to leave them a better world.

Not sure I’m making any difference though.

Sometimes it’s hard to see the big picture when you see your friends dying and their families suffering.

Well, here we are. Good luck, buddy. See ya round. ”

Lieutenant McBain dropped Rhys off in front of the medical center and drove away.

The two ambulances from the air base were just pulling up, and medical personnel were already on standby outside the facility, ready to receive the wounded.

Rhys walked in through the main entrance and approached the visitors’ desk.

“Hello, I’m Rhys Morgan?—”

“Mr. Morgan, you’re expected. Just take a seat and someone will be with you shortly,” the guard informed him. “Shouldn’t be more than a few minutes. Oh, and you can leave your bag with me. You can’t bring it inside.”

Rhys took a seat and looked around. He appeared to be the only civilian.

Everyone looked busy and purposeful, but there was a cheerful atmosphere that he found surprising.

The medical personnel were relatively young, and everyone smiled and exchanged friendly comments as they went about the business of looking after their wounded comrades.

Rhys gazed out the window. Gentle snow had begun to fall, huge snowflakes twirling merrily before settling on the ground in a blanket of pristine white.

Would Jo remember him? Rhys wondered as he studied the colorless sky.

They’d met several times before, mostly at work functions, where one was introduced to countless people and forgot their names as soon as they walked away to speak to someone else, but he knew Jo, and she had known him.

They’d chatted more than once, and had even walked over to the bar and had a drink together the night Jo was due to receive her award.

She’d been nervous about making a speech, and Rhys had taken it upon himself to help her relax.

She wasn’t a woman accustomed to making speeches, she’d told him that night.

She liked being on her own, with no one to tell her how to do her job or offer criticism or unwanted advice.

He’d liked her, and he thought she’d liked him, but more as a fellow professional, not as a man.

She’d been very attractive, he did remember that. Would she look the same?

“Mr. Morgan?”

Rhys hadn’t even noticed the woman approach.

She was in her thirties, with wide blue eyes and silver-blond hair pulled into a neat bun.

She had a lovely smile, and those perfect teeth all Americans seemed to have.

“I’m Dr. Stein. I’ve been looking after your friend. Shall we talk in my office?” she asked.

“Of course,” Rhys agreed and followed her toward the lift. They made small talk about the weather until they reached their floor and walked down the bright, scrupulously clean corridor. Dr. Stein led Rhys to a well-appointed office that was flooded with sunshine.

“Please, have a seat. Would you like some coffee? I have a Keurig,” she explained, jutting her chin toward the coffeemaker. “Can’t live without it.”

“Yes, thank you. I’d love a cup.”

“Choose your flavor,” Dr. Stein said with a conspiratorial grin. “I like hazelnut, with a splash of milk. ”

“Hazelnut with a splash of milk it is, then.”

Dr. Stein made two cups of coffee, added milk, and set one in front of Rhys.

“Now we can talk. Mr. Morgan, I’m sure you understand that the situation is somewhat complicated, and not only health-wise.

Since you are not Ms. Turing’s next of kin, normally I wouldn’t be able to divulge any details of her condition to you.

However, Ms. Turing hasn’t been able to provide us with any contact information, or even the name of a relative or a friend.

Up until two days ago, we were still referring to her as Jane Doe.

You’re the first person to come asking after her, and we’ve had her at this facility for over six weeks.

Can you help me out?” she asked. “Any information you can give me would be extremely helpful.”

“Ms. Turing’s attorney is Mr. Louis Richards, Esq., based in Leicester, England. I am here on behalf of Jo Turing’s twin sister, Dr. Quinn Allenby. Ms. Turing has two other siblings, Doctors Karen and Michael Crawford, with whom she hasn’t been in contact for some time.”

“I see.”

“Dr. Stein, I’m not asking you for confidential medical information. I simply want to see her, and talk to her, if possible. Surely she’s allowed visitors.” Dr. Stein nodded but didn’t immediately reply. “I was told she suffered a subdural hematoma,” Rhys tried again.

“Yes, that is correct.”

“May I speak to her neurosurgeon?”

Dr. Stein smiled. “You are. I performed the surgery, and I had her in an induced coma for five weeks. A coma allows for the swelling to go down and proper brain activity to resume at its own pace. Ms. Turing was woken from the induced coma only two days ago. It was fortuitous that you helped us identify her before we woke her up. She responded to her name, which is always a good start. ”

“Will you send me away?” Rhys asked. He was trying not to get upset, but Dr. Stein’s serene countenance was beginning to grate on his nerves.

“No, Mr. Morgan. You’ve come all this way in search of someone you obviously care about.

I’m not going to send you away. If I were, I wouldn’t have given you any information about Ms. Turing’s condition.

I think it will aid her recovery to see a familiar face and maybe be reminded of people back home, as long as you don’t tell her anything that might upset her.

You can speak to her for a few minutes each day, and we’ll see how things go. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes, that sounds reasonable.”

“Good. Shall we go see her, then?”

“Please.”

Rhys followed Dr. Stein down the corridor.

An unnatural hush permeated the entire floor, the nurses slipping by on silent feet as they attended to the patients, most of whom were hooked up to machines.

They walked past several open doors before reaching Jo’s room.

From the doorway, Rhys could see Jo’s lower body covered with a white hospital blanket, but he couldn’t see her face.

“Just wait outside for a moment, please,” Dr. Stein said. “I’d like to give her a heads-up.”

“Of course.”

“Good morning, Jo,” Dr. Stein said cheerily as she walked into the room. “How are you feeling today?”

Rhys couldn’t hear what Jo said. Her voice was barely audible. Dr. Stein checked her vitals while she continued to talk softly. “Someone’s here to see you, Jo. Would you like to see your visitor?”

Jo must have agreed because Dr. Stein beckoned for Rhys to enter the room.

He walked in slowly, not wishing to alarm Jo with his presence.

She looked small and fragile, her pallor accentuated by the white walls and bedlinens.

Rhys had expected her to be bald, given the head injury, but her abundant dark hair framed her lovely face, and the bandage at the top of her skull was clean and discreet.

Healing cuts crisscrossed Jo’s face, and the gauze of a bandage showed just above the neckline of her hospital gown.

An IV line snaked toward the bed and into her left hand.

The nightstand was depressingly bare. There were no flowers or get-well cards, or even a piece of fruit or a bar of chocolate.

“Jo, do you know who this is?” Dr. Stein asked carefully, once Jo had a moment to look at Rhys.

Jo’s brow furrowed as she tried to place him. “Morgan. Rhys Morgan,” she finally said. “Why are you here?”

“There are some people back home who are very worried about you. I was able to track you down using my press connections,” Rhys replied, purposely vague. Now wasn’t the time to spring news of a twin sister.

Jo’s face dissolved into a grimace of sorrow and her eyes filled with tears. She turned to Rhys, her eyes pleading. “Did she send you?”

“Who, Jo?” Rhys asked softly.

“No, she couldn’t have,” Jo mumbled. “She wouldn’t have.” One of the machines started to beep, and Dr. Stein immediately checked the monitor. The green lines on the black background appeared to be spiking.

“Mr. Morgan, I think that’s enough for today. Jo is clearly upset.”

“Jo, may I come and see you again tomorrow?” Rhys asked. Jo nodded miserably.

“Out you go,” Dr. Stein said more forcefully. “Jo, Mr. Morgan will come back, and you can talk some more. Now, you must rest. ”

Jo closed her eyes, but her face was pale and tense, her brows knitted in concentration. Her lips were moving, but no sound came out.

“Perhaps tomorrow you can show her some photos. I think that might help. Have you a place to stay?”

“No. I was brought here directly from the air base.”

“There are several decent hotels in the area. I suggest you get a room and find something to occupy yourself with until you can see Jo again. You can come back tomorrow at ten, if that’s convenient. I’ll leave word with the front desk.”

“Thank you,” Rhys said. “I’ll do that.”

Rhys collected his case, thanked the guard for calling him a taxi, and stepped outside.

The sun sparkled on freshly fallen snow, making the world look clean and fresh.

Rhys took a deep breath and turned his face up to the sky, offering up a silent prayer of thanks.

He couldn’t wait to get to the hotel and call Quinn. Finally, he had something to tell her.