Kaine didn’t miss the condescension in Lara’s smile. Nor did Hamilton. His youthful face reddened under her intense scrutiny.
Hamilton retrieved the clipboard and studied the place Lara pointed to on the top form.
“Yes, er … well. Under the circumstances, I suppose an upper body scan might be the prudent option. Will you be here to review the results for … er, with me?”
Lara pulled back the cuff of her jacket to read the time off her watch and took the opportunity to glance at Kaine surreptitiously. She acknowledged his nodded agreement.
“Very well, Dr Hamilton. I can see you are rather busy. I’ll be happy to stay for a few hours and offer whatever assistance I can provide. How soon can we move Mr Baines to radiography?”
The stiffness in Hamilton’s shoulders eased and his grateful smile reminded Kaine of a puppy being stroked behind the ears. The only things missing were a lolling tongue and a wagging tail.
Hamilton added another note to the form and glanced at the throng of annoyed patients in the waiting area.
“As I said, Dr Griffin, I have already ordered the CT scan as a matter of some urgency. The porters will be here shortly to take the patient … Mr Baines to radiology. In the meantime”—he lifted the pager clipped to the pocket of his white coat—“if you’ll excuse me, I’m needed elsewhere.”
“Thank you, Dr Hamilton. You’ve been very thorough. I’m sure we shall see each other later.”
The young man hurried away to minister to more people in urgent need. Lara leaned closer to Kaine and whispered, “Oh Lord, that was terrifying.”
“Really? You were so impressive, I thought young Hamilton was going to pass out for fear of upsetting you.”
“Ryan, I’ve never actually impersonated a doctor before.”
“You were magnificent, lass. Wouldn’t surprise me if Hamilton asks for your help with the rest of his shift. The kid looks ready to collapse under the pressure of running this place alone overnight. Take a gander at all those poor souls in the waiting area. Some of them look as though they’ve been here long enough to take root.”
Ariel’s soft crying from the cubicle drew their attention.
Lara left Kaine to duck behind the curtain, and he signalled Connor to guard their backs before following her into the cubicle.
Damian lay on a trolley, eyes closed, with his upper body elevated and turned slightly to one side, favouring the uninjured part of his chest.
Wires and tubes led from his torso and fingers to various machines on shelves either side of his head. A transparent plastic mask covered his nose and mouth, fed from a tube connected to a port protruding from the wall. His breathing was shallow and rapid, his colour had improved slightly, and the scar appeared less aggressive. The wire from a plastic clip on the index finger of his left hand led to a silent monitor, and the orange numbers on the small display read 89.7%. A slight improvement in his oxygen saturation seemed encouraging, but Kaine had been in enough trauma suites to know the normal human range of pulse oximetry levels rested somewhere above ninety-five percent.
Damian’s condition was serious and, although Kaine shouldn’t have endangered the young man in the first place and guilt ate away at him for doing so, he knew exactly who to blame for meting out the actual punishment.
TM and the Goons were going to pay for what they did to Damian, but not before Kaine learned the truth about Glenmore Davits’ death.
Chapter 29
Monday 20th February – Lara Orchard
Cambourne Cross Hospital, London
00:03.
Lara stood beside Ariel, trying to offer comfort and support. For her part, the pregnant girl held Damian’s unencumbered hand in both hers.
“Is he dying?” Ariel asked through the sobs.
“Not if I have anything to do with it,” Lara answered, studying the machine readouts.
“Beth?” Ryan said, calling her by her false name, which she still found difficult to recognise.
Ryan seemed to fall into whatever role he took on as though born to play a part. For her, things were much more difficult, they came much less naturally.
“Yes, love. What’s up?”
“Can I have a quiet word, please?”
Lara squeezed Ariel’s shoulder. “Give me a moment to speak to my husband.”
Why did the idea of them being married still send an gentle shiver all the way through her?
“Please don’t go, Dr Griffin.” Ariel pulled her top hand from Damian’s and placed it on the side of her distended belly. “The baby’s kicking up a storm. I’m so scared.”
Her wide hazel eyes, which paled to light green under the harsh overhead lighting, stared up at Lara, pleading, terrified.
“I’ll be right outside. Call me if there’s any change in Damian’s condition—or yours.”
She followed Ryan, who signalled for Connor to join them and marched along the corridor. He stopped out of earshot but within sight of the cubicle. They huddled in a tight group, to one side of the corridor. Ryan kept his back to the wall, his eyes roaming the area, on the lookout. He wore a peaked cap, and kept his head lowered and his back hunched to change his stride pattern and alter his profile. Hanging around on the second floor of a busy hospital festooned with CCTV cameras would hardly be the first choice for a police fugitive. The fact that Ryan had stayed around for so long revealed how honourable her “husband” happened to be.
She’d been with Ryan long enough to have an idea of his emotional state. Right now, he was controlled but seething. Damian had been acting on Ryan’s instructions and was currently lying on a stretcher, fighting for breath. That must have only added to his sense of moral outrage. On top of everything else, although they’d never actually met the elderly gentleman, Glenmore Davits had been a member of The 83 and, as such, under Ryan’s protection. His murder, if it was murder, could not go unpunished.
Ryan would be planning his next few moves in advance, including payback for Damian’s injuries.
He turned to Lara, the anger in his eyes hidden from the world, but not from her.
“Are you okay to stay here tonight?” he whispered, looking first to her, and then to Connor. “Some unfinished business needs my attention.”
Connor looked at her before answering. “No problem, boss. I don’t have nowhere else I’d rather be.”
“You’re heading back to Palmerston Road, aren’t you,” she whispered.
Ryan gave her the slightest of shrugs. “You know me so well.”
“Darn it, Ryan,” she said too loud, instantly grimacing at her mistake.
Ryan stiffened and stared at a passing nurse who shot a glance in their direction before continuing on her way. Only then did he relax.
Lara shot out a hand and grabbed his forearm.
“Sorry,” she said, “that was unforgiveable, but”—she released her grip and lowered her voice—“for pity’s sake. You have no idea of the school’s layout or how many people you’ll be facing.”
Ryan turned to Connor, glanced along the corridor, and nodded. Her bodyguard jerked up his chin, backed away a few steps, and positioned himself to be able to see both her and the cubicle.
She moved closer to Ryan but made sure not to restrict his view. “Please don’t do anything reckless.”
His expression softened. “My dear Dr Griffin, have you ever known me do anything reckless?”
“Don’t humour me, you … you idiot. Every time you leave the villa, you’re being reckless. For crying out loud, Ryan”—this time, she whispered his name—“you’re just one man. You can’t hold yourself responsible for everything bad that happens in the world. And you can’t take on every evil that crosses your path.”
He pulled her into a hug and spoke so gently into her ear, only she could possibly hear.
“Lara, I am responsible for what happened to Damian, and I am responsible for The 83—all of them. Nothing’s ever going to expunge the damage I caused to those families, but I’m damn well goin
g to spend the rest of my life trying to help them—however long that will be.”
He tightened the hug so much she struggled to breathe before he relaxed his hold a little.
“We arrived too late for Glenmore Davits. I let him down, but I’ll be damned if I ignore his death, and I’ll be damned if I let Darwin go unavenged.”
Lara pushed against him and stared up into his eyes. Hard and dark green they were in his disguise, not the soft milk chocolate she normally saw when he looked at her.
“At least take Connor with you.”
Ryan shook his head emphatically. “No way. Connor stays with you. There’s no telling what TM will do if he finds out where we’ve taken Damian. No. Connor definitely stays with you.”
“But—”
“No buts. That’s my final decision.”
Lara had seen his determined expression many times before. No power on earth would change his mind, not even her. She released a heavy sigh.
“Listen,” he said after they stared into each other’s eyes in silence for a long while, “I promise to take care. Corky’s sending me the school’s architectural plans. All I plan to do tonight is recce the place from the outside and maybe plant a couple of surveillance cameras. That’s all.”
“Really?”
He nodded and crossed a finger over his heart. “Consider tonight nothing more than an information gathering exercise. Hopefully, we’ll identify TM and move one step closer to ending this.”
“And the one with the tattoo, Barcode?”
“What about him?”
“He’s only a kid.”
“A kid? He’s in his twenties, love. And, according to the information Corky found on the police servers, that particular ‘kid’ has a record stretching back to when he was still a juvenile. He’s probably responsible for at least one murder, and …”
“And?”
“He put his hands on you,” he said, his eyes darkening even further. “Young Barcode needs to be taught some manners.”
“Ryan, he’s no match for you.”
He winked. “After witnessing the way you poleaxed him the other day, I tend to agree. On the other hand, he’s a coward and a bully. Wouldn’t surprise me if he had something to do with Glenmore Davits’ death.” He paused long enough scan the corridor once more before continuing. “That ‘kid’, Barcode, hangs out on Brooke Street, we’ve witnessed that first hand. He could easily have seen what the postman delivered and decided to take it for himself. And even if he didn’t, he might know what really happened. If I run into young Byron Codell, all I plan to do is ask him a few questions.”
“Like a police interview, you mean?”
Ryan smiled and added a wink.
“Something like that, my angel.”
Still smiling, he leaned in and kissed her forehead.
“You mean one of your devious Special Forces interrogations, don’t you?”
Ignoring the question, he took her hand and led her to Connor, who straightened as they approached.
“You heading out now, Mr Griffin?”
“I am indeed, lad. You happy with your role here?”
“Yes, boss.” He tapped his ear. “The bone mic the Doc gave me is totally ace. I’ve been talking to your technician.”
“Corky called you?”
Connor nodded. “Not exactly hot on comms protocol, but he seems to know his stuff.”
“He does indeed. What did he have to say?”
“Nothing much. Just wanted to introduce himself. Complained about how you’d gone off comms and he couldn’t contact you.”
Ryan shrugged to Lara and turned back to Connor.
“The little reprobate has been giving me earache all evening.” He patted a jacket pocket. “I’ll put the unit back in when I head out. Couldn’t take any more messages from the little man in the loud Hawaiian shirts.”
Connor shot an enquiring glance at Lara. She shook her head and said, “Don’t ask. You’ll find out soon enough, I imagine,” which seemed to satisfy Connor well enough and he faced Ryan once again.
“Your man told me to let you know he’d sent you the plans you asked for. Apparently he uploaded them to the villa’s server. Said you’d know what he meant, that right?”
“It is.”
“Good,” Connor said, fingering his left ear. “Neat bit of kit this. Totally silent reception. Wish we’d had comms equipment this good in Kandahar. Would have saved no end of strife. Too expensive for the MoD’s budget, I guess?”
Still maintaining his vigil on the corridor, Ryan smiled. “That little gizmo in your ear and all the equipment used to run it would likely buy you a small house in Leytonstone. Don’t ask me where the QM acquired the components, he’d never tell me.
“For this operation, I’m Alpha One, Corky’s Alpha Two, and the Doc’s Alpha Three. That makes you—”
“Alpha Four,” Connor said, triumphantly. “Corky already told me.”
“Did he, by God. I’m surprised he bothered. Rarely uses call signs himself. Aha, here they are. And about time.”
He nodded towards Damian’s cubicle, where two young men in purple scrubs pulled back the curtains.
“That’s my cue to stretch my legs.”
Smiling, Ryan held out his hand to Lara.
“What’s wrong?”
“I need the keys to the hire car.”
“Connor drove. Ask him.”
“Connor?”
Her minder dropped a set of keys into Ryan’s hand. “Hope you don’t have to chase any bad guys, or escape the ’bules. That bloody car couldn’t pull the skin off a custard tart. Tip me the nod if you ever need a decent set of getaway wheels. You know, one with some real guts. A couple of car mechanics not too far from here owe me a favour. They’ll sort you out, no worries.”
“That’s okay, Connor. The little Peugeot’s good enough. Inconspicuous. Stays below the radar.”
“Nah,” Connor said, “my guys will make a knackered old Ford Focus run like a Ferrari F40, without changing its looks. Sweet they are, boss.”
“I’ll think about it next time we’re in this part of the world.”
He kissed Lara’s cheek, said, “Take care, love,” and hurried away.
“No, you take care,” she muttered to his back before facing Connor. “Okay, Terry McCann, let’s go.”
“Terry who?”
Lara suddenly felt very old and even more tired.
“A TV character from a few years back.”
Connor bared his teeth in a brilliant grin. “Yeah, Terry McCann, ex-boxer turned minder to protect Arthur Daley and ‘her indoors’. Just winding you up, Doc. Everyone needs a bit of a laugh now and again, right?”
“Please don’t. There’s a time and a place for … oh dear. This doesn’t look good.”
Forty metres away, at the far end of the corridor, a stern-faced Dr Hamilton was waving and trying to catch her eye. She tried ducking behind Connor, but was too late.
Hamilton rushed towards her, right arm aloft, finger waving to the ceiling.
“You want for me to run interference, Doc? Before he calls security?”
“Of course not. He’s just doing his job.”
“Don’t intend to hurt the man, just delay him long enough for you to get out of here.”
Although tempted, Lara stuffed her hands into her pockets and waited.
“Any idea what the penalties are for impersonating a doctor?”
“But I thought you was a doctor?”
“Connor, I told you there’s no need for jokes.”
“Sorry.”
Hamilton practically skidded to a halt in front of them, panting. A thin sheen of sweat on his smooth forehead.
“Dr Hamilton, is everything okay?”
He shot a sideways glance at Connor, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “There’s been some sort of a misunderstanding. You see, I’ve just this moment gotten off the phone to Queen Elizabeth’s Hospital in Birmingham …”
He swallowed
again and took another breath.
Lara leaned to one side to look around the young doctor, expecting to see a pair of uniformed security guards at best, a pack of armed police officers at worst.
Ryan Kaine, what have you dropped me into this time?
Chapter 30
Monday 20th February – Oh-Dark-Forty
Walthamstow, NE London
00:42.
Kaine parked far enough away from Palmerston Road to avoid running into any Tribesmen, but close enough to reach the car without having to indulge in an extended town centre yomp. He tugged his lightweight backpack, the Bergen’s little sister, from the luggage area, pulled it onto his shoulders, and shrugged it into a more comfortable position. At a little under twelve kilos, the baby-Bergen weighed less than half the weight he’d normally have to carry when on manoeuvres.
Piece of cake.
He closed the tailgate quietly, activated the central locking mechanism, and scanned the area. As expected at oh-dark-forty, the back streets of this part of Walthamstow were deserted.
Kaine settled the rolled up ski mask on his head, wearing it like a fat beanie, and took a circuitous route towards the school.
He’d taken a few minutes to study the architect’s blueprints and that, together with Damian’s earlier description of the inside of Palmerston School, suggested the building’s current layout didn’t differ much from the technical drawings. The only major changes lay in the configuration of the Hub and a couple of the ancillary rooms behind it. The internal walls remained pretty much intact, only the rooms’ usage differed.
He didn’t expect too many difficulties in gaining access to the building, should the need arise. However to begin with, his initial plan consisted of planting two or three cameras, hooking them up to Corky’s satellite systems, and taking a low-key watching brief. At least, that’s the plan he’d sold to Lara.
On the Money Page 25
