by Donna Hill
He reached for the bedside phone, called room service and ordered breakfast to be delivered in an hour. In the meantime, he went to take a shower and get his day in gear.
* * *
Rafe sat in front of the television watching the news while he finished his breakfast. The reporter was outside of the Assemblée Nationale, where the French parliament was housed, which was now being used to host the security summit. She reported on the progress thus far, that this was the final day of meetings and the hope was that a full report would be forthcoming.
And then the world rocked right in front of his eyes. He felt the impact in his room. An explosion ripped through the building sending flames and debris into the air before the screen filled with static. He could still hear the screams behind the static-filled image.
What the hell had just happened? Avery! Frantic, he searched for the remote to change channels.
Cameras shook as frightened reporters spoke in rapid French.
Sirens wailed in the background.
Déjà vu. It was September 11 all over again. The fear, the panic, the sick sinking sensation that gripped his insides. Not again. Rafe grabbed his phone and dialed Avery’s cell.
Rapid busy signal.
He ran to the door and tugged it open. Hotel guests poured out of their rooms, looks of terror etched on their faces.
He had to find Avery. He darted out into the hall to the elevator and started stabbing the button, willing the doors to open. Adrenaline raced through his body. He couldn’t wait. He ran down the corridor past panicked guests and sprinted down the fourteen flights to the main lobby only to find it flooded with hotel guests and the Gendarmerie nationale, a branch of French police that was under the control of the Ministry of Defense. They were known to deal with serious crime on a national level and the fact that they had been deployed to the hotel told Rafe more than he wanted to know.
He pushed his way to the front, looked for a figure that exerted authority and spotted the captain who was dispatching orders to his officers to keep the guests contained in the hotel and to block off the exits.
Rafe spoke to him in hurried broken French. “I’m Rafe Lawson, Senator Lawson’s son. He is the chair of the Security Summit Committee. I need to find him and Special Agent Richards.”
“No one can leave the hotel, monsieur. The city is under lockdown until we can determine what took place.”
“Were there any casualties? Did everyone get out? Can you at least tell me that?”
“I don’t have that information, monsieur. Please. Step back.”
“I have to find them!” he shouted above the din.
“Step back!” Two other officers came to his side.
Rafe held up his hand in submission, turned and headed back to the stairs. He ran back up the fourteen flights to his room. The television screen was filled with the destruction that had taken place. Smoke plumed from the building. Firefighters shot water onto the simmering debris. The entire scene looked like a war zone.
Emergency response vehicles dotted the street. Medical personnel attended to people injured on the street. Sirens continued to scream while the reporters attempted to shed light on this latest tragedy.
Rafe’s hand shook as he tried Avery’s number again. Rapid busy signal. He turned in a circle, dug his fingertips into his head. Lee Ann!
He called his sister in DC.
“Lee Ann!”
“Rafe, where are you? Have you heard—”
“I’m here in Paris.”
“What! Oh my God. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“Have you seen Dad? I can’t reach him.”
“Signal issues here. At least, there is no way to get a call in to anyone that...” he sucked in a breath “...is inside that building. I need to get out of the hotel. But they have everyone on lockdown. Is there any way that maybe Sterling can make some calls, pull some strings?”
“Yes, yes,” she said, panic rising in her voice. “I’ll find out and get back to you as soon as I can.”
“Thanks, sis.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I will be when I can get out of here and find...out what happened.”
* * *
An eternity passed while Rafe paced the floors of his hotel room and tried to keep the ugly images out of his head. In between he continued to try to reach Avery and then his father, with the same results.
Finally, after more than two hours, Lee Ann called back to tell him that Sterling had been able to make contact with the American Embassy and the chief of police. As far as they knew there were no confirmed fatalities and all the injured had been taken to Val-de-Grace Hospital.
Sterling had arranged for an escort to take Rafe to the hospital, who should arrive within the hour to his hotel room.
“Please find Dad,” Lee Ann said, her voice breaking. “And I hope whoever you’re looking for is okay,” she added, knowing her brother all too well.
“Thanks, sis, and thank Sterling for me. As soon as I know something I’ll call you.”
Rafe disconnected the call and continued to watch the horror unfold on the television screen. The knot in his belly tightened by the minute. Avery had to be all right and his father, too. He wouldn’t survive it this time. He simply wouldn’t.
There was a rapid knock on the door. Rafe nearly tore the door off the hinge.
“Monsieur Lawson?” asked the uniformed officer.
“Yes.”
“Come with me. I am to escort you to Val-de-Grace.”
“Merci.” He grabbed his phone from the table, made sure he had his wallet and passport and followed the officer out and to a waiting police vehicle.
* * *
Armed police lined the streets, herding people back inside shops and homes. The cloying scent of smoke and burned metal tinged the air. All around him the sound of sirens continued to wail. His imagination went into overdrive as he envisioned bodies being taken away beneath white sheets.
Many of the streets were blocked off to traffic but the police car’s swirling lights gave them quick access.
The car screeched to a halt in front of the hospital. The officer who’d come to his hotel room escorted him inside, leaving his partner in the vehicle.
The officer spoke in rapid French to an officer who appeared to be in charge. He nodded.
“He will take you to someone who can assist you.”
“Thank you for your help.”
The officer nodded and hurried back out of the building.
“Come with me, Monsieur Lawson.”
Rafe followed the burly officer who was further weighed down by his assault rifle, heavy vest and helmet.
They walked down the hospital corridor, darting around gurneys of the injured and the nurses and doctors that had to use the hallways for triage.
The officer stopped at the nurse’s station and spoke to the nurse behind the computer screen. The officer gave Rafe a brief nod and walked away.
“How may I help?”
Rafe stepped up to the desk. “I’m looking for two people. They said everyone was brought here.”
“The names?”
“Branford Lawson. Senator Lawson.” He swallowed. “And Agent Avery Richards.” His heart pounded while he waited for her to scan the information from the computer.
She glanced up. “Senator Lawson was brought in about an hour ago. He is being worked on in emergency.”
His stomach roiled. “What about Avery Richards?”
“I’m sorry.”
He gripped the edge of the desk.
“We have no information on an Agent Avery Richards.”
“No information, what does that mean?” he shouted and tried to keep from leaping over the desk.
His temples pounded. The air got sucked from his lungs. No. No. Not again.
“The emergency wing is down the hall to the right. Senator Lawson is in room 21,” she said, breaking through the swirling fog that surrounded him. She handed him a visitor pass.
Rafe blinked rapidly. “Thank...you.” He pushed away from the desk and managed to follow the signs to the emergency area. After several miscues in communication he was finally allowed to enter and was escorted by police to room 21.
He approached the partially curtained-off bed. At least three doctors and several nurses surrounded the body on the bed. Bloody clothes that had been cut from the patient were on the floor. A bag of blood and clear fluid hung from a hook above his father’s head.
Branford wasn’t moving and from his vantage point Rafe wasn’t able to tell if his father was breathing. He couldn’t recall his father ever being seriously ill or weakened in any way, not even after his mother died. This was surreal.
A nurse brushed by him on her way out.
“S’il vous plaît,” he said, slowing her exit.
“Oui?”
“That’s my father—père. How is he?”
“You must speak to docteur.”
She hurried away.
At the very least his father was here. He was alive and being treated. But the answer to the question that tormented him was where was Avery? He couldn’t fathom the unthinkable.
There was a flurry of activity around his father’s bed and two orderlies prepared to move the bed out of the room.
The doctor was first.
“I’m his son,” Rafe said, grasping the doctor’s arm.
The doctor looked at the visitor tag attached to his shirt. “He is going to need surgery to repair the leg. He has a concussion. Very lucky man.”
The two orderlies pushed the bed out of the room and that was when he saw her seated in a corner in a wheelchair. She pushed up from the chair and their gazes connected.
The bed was pushed past him. He grabbed his father’s hand. “I’m here, Dad, and I’m staying.” Branford’s eyes fluttered open.
“Son,” was all he managed before he was wheeled away.
Rafe swung his focus back toward Avery and the relief that flowed through him was immeasurable. He strode toward her like a man in a dream and gathered her in his arms.
“Cher, cher,” he whispered over and over. He couldn’t find the words to express the emotions that swirled through him. Sometimes we get lucky with a second chance. Quinten’s words came alive in his head.
Avery pressed her head into his chest and wept.
“It’s gonna be all right, cher. You’re here and I’m not going to let you go.”
A nurse came back into the room. “We need to take her for scan for her head,” the nurse said in broken English.
Rafe finally noticed the angry bruise. “Avery,” he said, alarmed, gently pushing her hair away.
“I’m okay,” Avery managed. “Something hit me in the head.” She tried to laugh but winced instead.
Rafe wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“Please sit,” the nurse instructed Avery.
Rafe helped her back into the wheelchair and walked with them to the scanning room. He held on tight to Avery’s hand until he had to let her go.
Chapter 23
“Dad is in surgery. Compound fracture of his left leg. The doctor said he also has a concussion but he was conscious when they took him in,” Rafe told his family on a conference call.
“Thank God,” they echoed.
“And your friend?” Lee Ann cautiously asked.
“What friend?” Dominique wanted to know.
“Her name is Avery Richards,” Rafe offered.
“She’s there?” Justin asked.
“Yeah, she was assigned to the security committee detail.”
“Wait, what? Who are we talking about?” Desiree chimed in. “Security detail?”
“She works for the Secret Service,” Rafe said.
“So you went after her,” his aunt Jackie chimed in.
For the first time in hours he smiled. “Yeah, Aunt J, I did.”
“Good for you.”
“Wait, I still want details,” Dominique demanded. “Where did you meet her? And since when do you fraternize with Secret Service agents?” she asked with skeptical humor in her voice.
“Let’s just get through all this and I’ll tell you all about her. Promise.”
“At least I can breathe now,” Lee Ann said. “Dad is going to pull through and your ‘friend’ is going to be fine.”
“Has there been any more news on what happened?” he asked of Lee Ann.
“From what Sterling has been able to find out, it is being deemed a terrorist attack. It was a bomb. President Montblac is scheduled to speak at a news conference relatively soon.”
“Everything is still on lockdown,” Rafe said. “So there’s very little movement around the city. In any case I’m staying here at the hospital and I’ll keep you all posted on Dad.”
“Okay. Good,” the family chorused.
“Stay safe, bro,” Justin said.
“Plan to.”
They said their goodbyes and Rafe returned to waiting.
* * *
Avery returned first. She wasn’t going to be admitted as the CAT scan came back clear, but they did want to hold her for a few more hours just to be sure. She was placed in a room and Rafe was at her bedside.
“How are you feeling?” He held her hand.
“Achy but okay.”
His eyes roamed over her face. “If anything had happened to you...”
She squeezed his hand. “But it didn’t.”
“It all came back, cher,” he said softly. “That day. And all I could think about was getting to you.”
She stroked his cheek.
“I couldn’t imagine...that I didn’t get to tell you... I love you, Avery, from the bottom of my soul, and I don’t want to think about a day without you in my life ever again. Whatever I have to do to make that happen, I will. Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it. I’ve been running and running from this time in my life for too long, cher.” His jaw tightened. “I surrender.”
Tears filled her eyes. She blinked rapidly to keep them at bay but failed miserably. “I turned my trust and my heart over to you long ago, baby. I love you, Raford Beaumont Lawson. I love you. Always know that.”
Rafe slowly stood and leaned over the rails of the hospital bed. His pulse raced. He could love again. Really love again. That acceptance was the freedom that he’d sought and finally found.
He lowered his head and confirmed it all against her lips.
* * *
“Monsieur Lawson.”
Rafe tore his attention away from Avery. The doctor was at the door.
“Be right back.” He gave her a quick kiss and stepped out of the room to speak with the doctor.
“I’m Doctor Pierre. Your father is out of surgery. The break was severe, but the surgery was a success,” he said in halting English. “Of course because of the nature of the break we are concerned for infection. So we treat now to prevent.”
“What about the concussion?”
“We will watch him closely. There does not appear to be any damage or bleeding.”
“Can I see him?”
“He is in recovery. He will be taken to a room when he wakes up. Someone will let you know. I must go. Many patients today.”
“Of course.” Rafe squeezed the shoulder of the doctor. “Thank you.”
T
he doctor offered a brief nod and hurried away. Rafe returned to Avery’s room.
“What did the doctor say? Is your father all right?”
He pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down. He brought her up to speed on what the doctor told him.
Avery let her head drop back against the pillow. “Thank goodness.”
“Can you tell me what happened? How did you wind up with my father?”
Avery shut her eyes. “Everything was wrapping up,” she slowly began. We were getting in place to begin the escorts.” She paused, blinked rapidly as the terrifying images bloomed in front of her. “And then,” she gripped the railing of the bed, “the first blast sent bodies and furniture flying. The sound alone was deafening and thick smoke filled the room. It was hard to see. People were yelling, screaming.” The muscles in her face tightened. Her nostrils flared. “Training kicked in. We were there to protect our own.” Her eyes squinted. “I crawled across the floor, checking the fallen.”
Her lips pinched. “And...I found my colleague. Mike. He had a slab of wood...sticking out of his leg. I used his belt to tie it off and packed the wound with my blouse. He was in and out of consciousness, but stable, and I knew I had to keep moving. The smoke was beginning to clear and the enormity of the devastation...” She swallowed. “There were bodies everywhere. Blood.”
Rafe squeezed her hand.
“We could hear the sirens. People started getting to their feet and helping those that were down. I kept moving and,” she glanced at Rafe, “I found your father. A table had fallen on his leg. He couldn’t move. I don’t know if he was thrown and that’s what caused the break or if it was the impact and weight of the table. I finally managed to get the table off him and I knew that break was bad.” She took a deep breath. “He was barely alert but I couldn’t risk anything falling on him before help arrived. The only shelter was that damned table. I don’t even know how, but I pulled him under the table seconds before the second blast came. The wall behind us exploded and plaster and brick rained down. I guess that’s when I got hit in the head.”
Rafe gritted his teeth imagining the horror. “You’re amazing,” he said, his voice thick. “You probably saved my father’s life.”
Avery lowered her gaze. “It’s what anyone would have done.”
