Here to help. Right. “Like hell you are,” Caroline said. “Why should I trust you?”
Maureen started rummaging through the bag. “I have clothes and food in here. A full tank of gas and plenty of supplies in the car in the parking garage. And dependable relatives in Texas, where you’ll be safe. You think you can trust anyone else in this place?”
Caroline wasn’t sure she could trust anyone. Not anymore. “I have no idea.”
“The government has been on us ever since you got here, trying to get us to cut you loose so they can have a little chat,” Maureen said. “Based on what has already happened to you, I assume you’d rather not have that conversation.”
She’d sooner eat glass. “No. I’d rather not.” Caroline decided to put it all on the table. It felt dirty to say it out loud but she didn’t have time to make peace with her ethical boundaries. Better to know where she stood right away. “Do you need money?”
Maureen frowned at her. “You think I want you to pay me?”
“I have money.”
“I know you do, Ms. Gerard. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. But I’m getting you the hell out of here, free of charge.”
Dr. Savage was a bundle of nerves but she seemed honest. Earnest. Friendly. Caroline hoped she could take her at her word. She didn’t exactly have a lot of options.
“Hold still,” Maureen said, reaching for the IV needle. “This might hurt a little but I’m trying to work fast. They already took your catheter out.”
Caroline winced as Maureen pulled the IV out of her arm and bandaged her up. It could have been worse. She knew she had to be grateful for small favors. “You should really call me Caroline,” she said.
“Only if you call me Maureen.” The other woman pulled a bobby pin out of her hair and started fiddling with the lock on the handcuffs, obviously struggling with her task. “This always looks so much easier on TV.”
Caroline rolled her eyes. “You mean to tell me you don’t know what you’re doing?”
“I didn’t say that,” Maureen said, her voice strained. “But this is a little harder than I thought it would be.”
Dear Lord, they were in trouble already. Caroline’s anxiety vanished, successfully distracted by the need to concentrate on a delicate task. “Move,” she said, and started jiggling the bobby pin until the cuffs sprang open. Maureen’s eyes widened in amazement. Caroline tried not to laugh. This doctor was easy to impress.
“How the hell did you do that?” Maureen asked.
“Prosecutors pick up a lot of disturbingly useful borderline criminal skills. You should see me with a sawed-off shotgun.” Caroline groaned as Maureen helped her sit up. Her muscles had forgotten how to work. “I hope you’re better at navigating this hospital than you are at breaking people out of handcuffs.”
“I am,” Maureen assured her. “I’ve worked here for fifteen years. We’ll go out the back. My car is in the garage. We won’t stop until we’re far, far away from here. We really don’t have much time, so we gotta move.” She opened up the duffle bag and pulled out a bunch of random clothes. “I hope these fit. You’re a little taller than me. Chest is bigger too.”
The weight loss apparently hadn’t affected everything equally. “Thanks,” Caroline said. “I appreciate it.”
“Just telling you the truth.”
“I’m probably a lot smaller now than I used to be.” She winced. Her ribs hurt. “I think I’ve lost at least ten pounds.”
“Probably. You’ve had nothing but glorified sugar water for almost two weeks.” Maureen rummaged through the duffle bag again. “I’m sorry. We did what we could to help you get better.”
The doctor had no reason to feel guilty about anything, and Caroline felt compelled to reassure her. “I know you did.”
“I’ve got some food in here too.” Maureen pulled out a couple of granola bars and a bottle of apple juice. “You hungry?”
Her stomach felt like a lead balloon. “Not really,” Caroline said. “But I should probably force something down. Am I allowed to eat?”
“You can do whatever you want. Just don’t run out of here without me.”
Caroline stretched out her legs. She wasn’t exactly in prime shape. “I’m trusting you,” she said. “You’d better not be bullshitting me.”
“I’m not.”
Maureen rubbed her forehead, and for the first time Caroline noticed how tired she looked. She would have pegged the woman’s age at late fifties, but guessed that she was actually a little younger than that. No doubt recent events had taken their toll on her as well.
Caroline chugged down the apple juice and shoved a granola bar into her mouth as she put on a bra that was indeed a cup size too small but was better than nothing. The food and drink felt terrible going down. She slipped on the rest of the clothes, not giving a shit about modesty. The shoes she grabbed from the bag were at least a size and a half too small, and the pants were too short. Hopefully she could remedy that situation in time. Unusual dress attracted attention. The kind she didn’t want.
“You have tiny feet,” she told Maureen.
“Sorry. I couldn’t very well measure your shoe size. I took what I could get.”
Maureen twisted her hands nervously, waiting for her to finish getting dressed, and it was enough to spark Caroline’s suspicions again.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked. “Why are you helping me?”
“Because I’m stupid. And I think you’re being railroaded.”
“No shit.” She wolfed down another granola bar. “Why put yourself at risk?”
“Okay, I’m not stupid. I’m really just terribly bored.”
“It’s not that either.”
Maureen closed her eyes. “I think good people need to stand up for what’s right before there’s no one left to do it.”
She was holding something back, but Caroline didn’t see the point in pushing her. She tugged a hoodie with a Boston College hockey logo over her head, pulling the sleeves up out of habit. She liked this woman, despite her shitty taste in clothing.
“BC?” Caroline asked. “Really?”
“Class of 1988,” Maureen said.
“You know, at Notre Dame they call it Backup College.”
“I am aware of that.”
Caroline rose shakily to her feet. She lifted each foot up and down, orienting herself. She didn’t feel as badly as she thought she would. “I don’t think we’re going to have any problem with finding things to talk about in the car. Even if this hoodie does make me feel dirty.”
Maureen laughed, but it sounded hollow. And it wasn’t because of the subject matter. “Sit back down on the bed for a minute. How are you feeling?”
Caroline could think of no accurate way to describe how she felt. Bluntness would work. “Things hurt.”
“Obviously. Does your head hurt?”
“I feel like I’m speaking too slowly, like my mouth can’t catch up with my brain. It takes longer than usually to process things.” Her thoughts usually rushed through at a mile a minute, and it felt as if they were stuck in molasses.
“You sound tired,” Maureen said. “I know you’re not in fighting shape, but can you walk?”
Standing up hadn’t been too bad. “I think so. Probably won’t be running any marathons any time soon.”
Maureen continued to prod at her, apparently satisfied with what she’d seen so far. “All you have to do is propel yourself toward the door and down the stairwell.”
“I can manage that.”
“Your cheekbone and nose are still healing, as are your ribs. Leg looks to be okay, but that was never the main issue. And you seem to be communicating all right, so that answers any questions we had about your cognitive abilities.”
Caroline stifled a laugh. “No comment.”
Maureen looked at her. Or more specifically, at the splint. “I’m sorry, we tried, but I’m not sure your nose will ever be the same.”
If memory served, she was
lucky to be alive. Possible nasal reconstruction was the least of Caroline’s concerns. “They used the butt of a handgun. Multiple times. And I think there may have been some stomping involved too.”
Maureen stared down at the duffle bag and didn’t say anything.
“It’s not your fault,” Caroline said softly. “I’m sure you’ve done what you could with regard to my medical care.”
Maureen cleared her throat, shaking off whatever had been bothering her. “Maybe if we’d all paid a little more attention, we could have prevented all of this.”
Caroline stood up. “Not much we can do about it now.”
“Shifts have switched over. We’re in the wee hours of the morning. Time to make a break. You ready?”
Caroline smiled at her, stretching again as best she could. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Then let’s roll.”
Chapter Two
The Hospital
They were almost to the door when Maureen spun around, almost knocking Caroline over. “We maybe should talk about this first. We have to get out of here as quickly as possible.”
Caroline was a little concerned that she’d forgotten they hadn’t discussed a course of action. She also hadn’t noticed a gun. “Please tell me you’re armed.”
“You think that’s necessary?”
Had she been living under a rock? Caroline shook her head. Her thoughts were still slow to come and her normally solid logic failed her. “You’re kidding, right?”
Maureen looked a little offended. “Those people out there can be trusted. I know the night nurse. Nora’s a good person.”
Like that mattered. “Does she know what you’re planning to do?”
“I haven’t told anyone about this. And I didn’t exactly seek her out when I arrived. But she’ll turn a blind eye, I’m sure.”
“You know your staff better than me,” Caroline said. “I’m surprised there aren’t any law enforcement officers out there. I assumed the feds had someone camped outside my door.”
“They said they’d be coming later this morning to transport you.”
“And you believed them?”
“Did I have a choice?” Maureen sighed. “Look, I was just out there five minutes ago and the nurses were the only people milling around. At this hour, they aren’t always that alert.”
Maureen clearly didn’t appreciate the gravity of their situation. Caroline had a very bad feeling about this.
“If we get caught, you go down too,” she said.
Maureen blanched but smiled anyway. “I know.”
“So we’re just gonna make a break for it?”
“Can you think of a better idea? How else are we going to get out?”
Without firearms, they didn’t have many options. “You have a point.”
“We’ll slip down the stairs. They’re only a few feet across and to your left when you leave the room. Come on.”
“Maybe you should do a check first,” Caroline said. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she caught an eye roll.
“Fine.” Maureen peeked her head out the door.
It only took a second, maybe two, for a uniformed man to drag Maureen out into the hallway and shove her into another soldier’s arms. He heaved open the door and laid eyes on Caroline. “Well, what do we have here?”
Her heart sank. They couldn’t even get off the floor before getting caught. Not that they’d had an elaborate escape plan, but still. Fifteen feet to freedom, and of course they were sitting ducks. Again she wished for a gun. Loaded or not. Operational or not. She’d kill for a goddamn butter knife. A spork, even. Dental floss. Anything.
“Thank you for getting here so quickly.” Nora smiled at them. “Told ya she was ready to bolt.”
Maureen struggled in the soldier’s grip. “You bitch. I fucking trusted you.”
The smile turned into a sneer. “Lesson learned, Dr. Savage. Don’t trust anyone.”
Caroline glanced toward the stairwell just across from her door. Not even fifteen feet. Ten. A momentary sprint if the hallway were empty and she were at full strength. No way out, not without a distraction. They were surrounded. Almost all of the men had their guns drawn.
“Run,” Maureen whispered, breaking free and swinging her duffle bag at the soldiers.
Caroline pushed past the soldier in her way and took off, but only made it a few feet before she was tackled to the ground. Her legs were weaker than she thought and the hallway was narrow. She had no place to go.
“Terrible medical advice, doctor,” one of the men said. “That traitor can barely move.”
A third man, who appeared to be an officer, grabbed Maureen by the neck and yanked the duffle out of her hand. “We had a feeling you’d sell out, just like this one here. Good thing Nora kept an eye on you for us.”
Caroline had to give her credit. Maureen appeared pissed not scared, her mood confirmed by her words.
“Oh, bite me, asshole,” she said.
The officer forced her to the floor until she was kneeling. He pulled his firearm out of its holster and announced, “Let this be a message to the rest of you.”
He pressed the gun to her temple and pulled the trigger, and in a split second the smarts that had gotten Maureen Savage through her entire academic and professional career were splattered against the wall.
Caroline struggled against the soldier who had tackled her, her eyes now focused on the lifeless body still bleeding out onto the floor. “Jesus Christ,” she yelped. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
The soldier slammed her head to the floor and she started screaming. How naïve she’d been. She realized that the horror she encountered in the woods was just a taste of what these people were capable of. She hadn’t wanted to think about it but the evidence was right in front of her. Caroline kicked and clawed at the man holding her down, trying to crawl her way down the hall. The others rushed over and helped pin her against the wall, inches from where blood and brain matter dripped disgustingly to the floor.
The one who had the strongest grip on her spoke first. “Man, this lady’s a lot tougher than she looks. I don’t think you all drugged her enough.”
“Savage told me to let her wake up,” Nora said. “What the fuck was I supposed to do? You people should be happy I called you before they got out of the building.”
“You’ll get your bonus. Be patient.”
Nora smiled. “Yeah, that little piece I got the last time around suited me just fine.”
He let go of Caroline and rose to his feet. “Keep it up. I’m sure there’ll be more troublemakers coming your way, and not just doctors. Don’t have to limit it to your workplace either. Any time you see dissidents, we wanna know about it.”
“For sure,” she said. “What else can I do for you all today?”
The soldier laughed as his colleagues continued to struggle to keep Caroline pinned to the wall. “Maybe a sedative? She’s a scrappy little bitch.”
The nurse laughed. A grating noise. “Wouldn’t have thought it, her being all high class and shit. Guess they can always surprise you.”
Caroline tried to weasel her way out of their grip, the adrenaline pumping through her, but it wasn’t enough. Every time she gained an inch, she lost two.
Nora returned with a very large, painful looking needle. “This should knock her out for a while. You boys got big plans?”
“She’s gotta take a little ride first.” The soldier came over to help his struggling comrades, slamming Caroline’s head into the wall.
Caroline closed her eyes, trying to regain her bearings. Nora was now kneeling in front of her.
“Hold her steady,” Nora said. “Wouldn’t want to get an air bubble in there and ruin all your hard work. You want her alive, right?”
The soldier fell silent and exchanged a look with his colleagues, now deferring to his commander. Caroline would have found the weird hierarchy fascinating if she weren’t eye level with a giant syringe.
“For now,” the offic
er said.
Caroline glared at the nurse. “Was it worth it?” she asked. “Worth it to drive a nicer car and have more spending money? Worth it to sell out your country and send good Americans to their doom?”
Nora plunged the needle into Caroline’s forearm. “What a politician you are, with your flowery words and your hypocritical bluster. You’ve got a nice flair for the dramatic.”
“Fuck you,” Caroline spat, still trying to fight the men pinning her down.
Nora pulled the needle back out. Her sneer returned. “It’s worth every fucking penny, you privileged cunt.”
Caroline hated that word. Cunt. Fuck reclaiming language. The nurse meant it as an insult of the worst kind, and she opened her mouth as Nora withdrew, ready to throw every profane insult she could at the woman.
Before she had a chance, she was out cold.
Chapter Three
The Fed
When Caroline woke up she was aware of movement. Rough movement. She blinked. Even her eyelids hurt.
She was in the back of a transport van, shackled to a bench. Alone. Her facial splint was gone, as was the tape on her ribs. The latter revelation proved to be highly unsettling.
It was quite cold. She didn’t know if that meant she was still in the Northeast somewhere or if the bastards driving the damn thing had decided to turn the air on and freeze her to death. There were no windows, no way to signal to anyone, including the driver.
She was wearing short sleeves because assholery evidently extended to clothing selection for inmate transport. Yet another unsettling revelation, with what were surely more to follow. The outfit she’d been wearing hadn’t been good enough for wherever they were taking her.
She glanced over at her left arm and gasped. She’d forgotten them holding her down at the hospital as she struggled in terror, having no idea what they had in store for her. She now had crude numbers etched into her skin – 1479. She rubbed at them, which did nothing. The area surrounding the marks was red and puffy.
Fuck.
She had a small tattoo on her ankle – her cop friends used to tease her about it, saying it was her cute little princess tat. The defense attorneys she worked with told her that regardless of its cartoonish qualities, it gave her street cred. And now she had black ink permanently imprinted on her skin, done as poorly as some of the lesser quality prison tattoos she’d seen.
The Bellator Saga: The First Trilogy (Dissident, Conscience, and Sojourn) Page 27
