The President's Man

by Alex Ander

  Ten minutes later, the door opened.

  “Hardy,” said Draper, “we’ve been looking all over for you. Cruz woke up ten minutes ago.”

  “What,” he said, standing?

  “Yeah, she just opened her eyes and said your name. A nurse was with her at the time. She—”

  “She woke up ten minutes ago and you’re only now telling me.” He charged out of the chapel.

  “Well, excuse me.” Draper held up her hands and glanced around. “This isn’t exactly the first place I’d expect to find you.” She followed him out of the chapel.

  Chapter 18: Peace

  A nurse held up her hands. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t let you in there.”

  Hardy reached for the doorknob. “Is she awake? I want to see her.”

  She intercepted his hand. “I have strict orders. No one is to go in there without the doctor’s permission.”

  “Okay. Get the doctor’s permission.” He eased her to the side. “I’ll be in here when he comes.”

  Pushing past Henderson, who stood next to the nurse, Doctor Raj forced his body between Hardy and the nurse. “What’s going on here?”

  “I was told she asked for me.” Hardy pointed at the door with his forehead and his voice grew louder. “Now, I want to see her.”

  Hearing the commotion, two nurses cranked their heads around and stared at the group. One picked up a phone and dialed security.

  “I understand how you feel, but I must re-iterate how important it is for her to get her rest. This is not about you, sir. It’s about the well-being of the patient, my patient.” He grabbed Hardy’s hand, which was still on the doorknob. “Now, please—”

  “For crying out loud, Doc,” Henderson jutted his chin toward the door and the woman on the other side, “She asked for him.” He made the ‘peace’ sign. “Just give him two minutes in there. Two minutes isn’t going to hurt her.”

  Doctor Raj studied Hardy for a few seconds before holding up his index finger. “You’ve got one minute.” He stepped back and motioned toward the nurse, who set the phone back in the cradle.

  Not giving the doctor the opportunity to change his mind, Hardy sneaked into the room and slowly closed the door. He tiptoed to her bed, picking up a chair on the way. Careful not to make a sound, he sat and stuck his arm between the slots on the bed’s handrail. Holding Cruz’s hand, he stroked her hair and pushed the locks away from her face. She tightened her grip on him. Her eyes fluttered before opening. He folded his hands around hers, careful not to dislodge the IV. “Hey there,” he said, smiling. “I’m here.”

  Even though she had been given a strong dose of medication, Cruz recognized him. She returned a feeble smile. There was an intubation tube down her throat and two plastic oxygen tubes in her nose. She tried to speak, but her throat was sore and it hurt to talk. She coughed and let out a groan.

  “Shhh, that’s all right. Don’t speak.” He patted her arm. “Charity is safe. You accomplished your mission. The doctor said the surgery went well.” He omitted the part about the possible risk of infection. She did not need that on her mind. She only needed to focus on getting better. He leaned closer. She seemed relaxed, almost at peace. He assumed it was the medication. “Everything is going to be all right. You just need to take it easy.” She closed her eyes, but her grip remained strong.

  The doctor had given him one minute and he had stolen another four. Her chest rose and fell with each breath. Combing her matted hair, he felt her hand go limp. He held on. His thoughts turned to his prayer—his words—in the chapel and the timing. Ten minutes after asking…God…for help, Draper entered the chapel and told him Cruz had opened her eyes and called his name ten minutes earlier. Hardy lowered his head. Is it possible that… He was still holding her hand, contemplating the connection when someone, the nurse placed her hands on his shoulders. His head shot upward.

  “Please, sir, it’s time for you to go and let her sleep.” She kept her hands on his shoulders, until he rose from the chair and slid his hand through the bed’s railing. He wanted to stay, but he understood it was best for her if he left.

  Turning around, he had a strange feeling of calmness wash over him. He looked back at Cruz. He did not know how, but at the very depth of his being, he knew she was going to be all right. A smile crossed his lips and he left the room, his mind and heart at peace.

  Chapter 19: Surprise

  September 20th, 7:37 a.m.; Baylor University Medical Center, Dallas, Texas

  “She’s still kind of out of it from all the medication, but the doctors say she’s steadily improving.” Hardy strolled down the hallway at the hospital.

  “That’s good news.” Draper and the rest of AR-1 had stayed with Hardy, until he had received news from the doctor that Special Agent Cruz’s risk of infection was extremely low; she was recovering quicker than expected. The team left to finish their training in Little Rock. Since leaving the hospital, Draper had called Hardy every morning at 7:30 to check on Cruz’s condition. “Give it time. She’s going in the right direction. From what you’ve told me about her, she’s tough and will beat this.”

  “Thanks Drape.” Hardy stopped in the hallway. “Listen, I want to thank you again for what you did for Cruz…treating her at the safe house, staying behind to be with her. I know you wanted to be a part of that mission in Mexico, but I needed to know that someone was going to be here for her.”

  “You’re welcome. I’d do it all over again…for you and for Cruz.” Draper paused. “Maybe someday we can all get together for dinner and have a proper introduction—your treat.”

  Hardy laughed. “I’d like that.” The smile faded. He knew as long as Cruz was not privy to what he did for a living, he could never introduce her to AR-1.

  “Take care, Hardy. I’ll talk to you, soon.”

  “Thanks, again, Draper.” He disconnected the call and slipped the phone into his pocket. Approaching the nurse’s station, he smiled at a middle-aged woman with short blonde hair. She stood and came around the desk.

  “Good morning, Aaron.” Janet sidestepped him and headed down the hall. “Did you get a good night’s sleep?”

  Hardy had practically lived at the hospital for the past three days. Most of the nurses had gotten to know him on a first-name basis. Last night, Janet had arranged for him to sleep in an empty room down the hall, so long as he did not make too much of a mess. Hardy had gladly accepted the offer. It was the first time he had been able to get some quality sleep. This morning, he felt refreshed and full of energy.

  He fell in step behind her. “Yes, ma’am, I did. Thank you again for getting me that room. I promise I left it exactly the way it was.”

  “You’re in for quite a surprise, I think.” She knocked on Cruz’s door before opening it slowly and poking her head inside. “Knock, knock.” She walked around to the far side of the bed.

  Entering, Hardy’s eyebrows arched. Cruz’s mechanical bed formed the letter ‘L’ and she was sitting. The intubation and oxygen tubes were gone, but the IV remained. Her long dark hair, which had been greasy and plastered to her head was clean and brushed, falling to the sides of her shoulders and stopping below her elbows. Coming closer to the bed, he noticed she was not only awake, but also alert; her eyes were sharp and focused. Even though he had spent the past three days with her, she had been sleeping most of the time. When she was awake, the medication had made her groggy. At those times, Hardy had wondered if she even knew he was there.

  “How are you feeling?” Janet asked, swiping her badge across a computer keyboard.

  “A little tired,” said Cruz before turning toward Hardy and the bouquet of flowers in his hand. “I’m hungry, too. Is there any chance I can get something to eat?”

  Janet smiled. “Absolutely,” she said. “That’s a good sign, dear.” She went back to the screen, punched a few more keys and clicked the computer mouse several times. “First, we need to get you up and moving. I was just getting ready to take you for a walk.” She look
ed at Hardy. “I think I found someone who might want to take my place, however.”

  Cruz cocked her head and gestured at the flowers. “What do you have there?”

  He stepped forward and handed them to her. “These are for you.” He glanced at a glass vase of flowers on her tray table. “But, I see someone else got here before me.”

  She took the flowers from him and smelled them. “Yes, Charity was here earlier. She wanted to see how I was doing before she went back home.” Cruz gave the flowers to Janet, who was waiting to take them. “She’s such a sweet person, isn’t she?”

  Hardy’s mind formed a picture of Charity, a determined look on her face, fists up and ready to punch him for wanting to move her to a safe location. “Yeah, she’s a sweetheart all right.”

  “Okay, let’s get you on your feet.” Janet slipped a pair of pink socks on Cruz’s feet and helped her stand.

  Cruz looked over her shoulder and flicked her eyes downward. “Will you do the honors?”

  Hardy overlapped the gown and tied the strings together, covering her bare butt.

  “Now, remember,” said Janet. “Take it slow and don’t go too far. You don’t want to tear your stitches.”

  Janet, with Hardy’s assistance, helped her patient get to the door. At the nurse’s station, she let him take over after another word of caution about the stitches.

  Cruz curled her arm around his elbow and took small steps, careful not to overextend her gait. She still had many questions for him. What did he do for a living? What happened at the safe house? Who were those men he was talking to on the phone? The details of the incident at the safe house were foggy and she wanted answers to her questions. Right now, however, she was simply enjoying walking with him, arm-in-arm.

  Fifteen minutes later, she was back in her bed, tired, but still feeling good. She placed an order for breakfast. When it arrived, she ate every morsel. Janet had put the flowers from Hardy in another vase and set the vase on the opposite side of the room.

  Hardy had kept the conversation to safe topics, not wanting to broach the subject of the safe house events. She needed to heal, not dredge up memories he could not explain. There would be plenty of time to discuss that issue. Besides, she had been somewhat aloof with him and he sensed she had been thinking about the same thing. As much as he may have wanted to tell her everything, he could not defy a direct order from the President. Hardy came around to the left side of her bed and pivoted the tray table ninety degrees to give her more room. Sitting down, there was a knock at the door and Director Jameson entered. “Hello, Agent Cruz.”

  Director Jameson was dressed in a black suit, white dress shirt and a red tie with black diagonal stripes. A gold tie bar held the tie in place. His black shoes—perfectly polished.

  “Director,” said Cruz, digging her palms into the mattress and trying to push her body further up the bed.

  Hardy pushed himself to his feet. “Sir.”

  Jameson waved a hand at them. “Please, as you were,” he said, striding past the foot of the bed and taking a position beside her bed. Hardy remained standing. “How are you feeling?”

  She did not want to get into the specifics. “Good, I’m feeling good—a little tired, but good.”

  Jameson nodded his head, pleased to hear the news. He shot a glance at Hardy, but remained silent.

  Hardy stared back at the man. Dallas was a long way from Washington and it was a little odd for the FBI Director to come this far to inquire about her health.

  Jameson spotted the vase. “Nice flowers.”

  Cruz squirmed. “Charity brought them in before she left this morning.”

  “That was nice.” He grabbed a chair from the corner. Pushing the tray table further away, he placed the chair as close as he could to the bed, removed his suit coat and laid it across the chair’s back. Sitting and facing Cruz, Jameson leaned back and crossed his legs before resting his arms on the chair’s armrests.

  Cruz glanced at Hardy; he was sitting. She turned her head back toward her boss.

  There was more silence, as Jameson focused more of his attention on Hardy than her. Jameson picked a piece of lint from his pants and let go of it, watching it float to the floor. He lifted his head and locked eyes with her. “Cruz, I have something to tell you about Mr. Hardy. Do you feel up to hearing it?”

  The muscles in Hardy’s arms and chest tightened. His eyes moved toward Cruz.

  She met Hardy’s gaze before whirling her head back toward Jameson. “Of course, sir.” Even though she was feeling a bit tired, she did not want to say ‘no’ to her boss, especially since Hardy was the topic of the conversation.

  “Good.” Jameson rested his elbows on the chair’s armrests and brought his fingertips together. “What I’m about to tell you is highly confidential and must not leave this room. Is that clear?”

  She slowly nodded her head. “I understand, sir.” She glimpsed Hardy, who looked as if he was bracing for a car accident. What’s going on here?

  “Special Agent Cruz, Mr. Hardy works for me,” Jameson waited a beat, “and for the President of the United States.”

  Cruz’s jaw dropped open. “Excuse me, sir?”

  Jameson spent fifteen minutes explaining the details of Hardy’s coming to work for the President. She had glanced at Hardy several times. Each time she looked at him, it seemed as if she was on a date, more precisely, a speed date. The bits and pieces about his life, and who he was, were racing toward her. In the end, the information overload was worth the stress. When Jameson finished, she stared at Hardy. The questions and doubts that had plagued her were gone. The truth was out there. She stretched out her hand and he took it.

  “Now you know,” Jameson continued, “why I wanted you to take Hardy to pick up Charity, as well as why I couldn’t tell you the reason.” Jameson nodded at Hardy with his forehead. “His employment activities are a matter of national security. As such, only a few individuals have access to that information.”

  Hardy maintained her gaze. She smiled. Her face softened. They would be okay. Jameson had divulged Hardy’s secret, freeing him to pursue a normal relationship with her. He chuckled to himself. Normal. Whatever that was going to be, he planned to make it work.

  Jameson stood, put on his suit coat and returned the chair back to its original place in the corner. Straightening the lapels of his suit coat and pulling on his shirt cuffs, he eyed his agents, holding hands. “I can see that the two of you have a relationship that goes beyond the professional realm.”

  Both of them pivoted toward their boss.

  He pointed a finger at them. “What you do in your personal time is none of my business; however, if I suspect that your personal relationship is affecting your work,” he paused to add emphasis, “It will become my business. Am I clear?”

  Cruz nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Crystal,” said Hardy.

  Jameson adjusted his suit coat. “Take as much time as you need to get better, Cruz. Then, take a couple extra days for yourself. I have already assigned other agents to your cases, so don’t worry about that. Just let me know when I can expect you back at work.”

  “I will, sir.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking,” Hardy said, standing, “How did you get the President to agree to bring Cruz on board? I thought my job was on a need-to-know basis.”

  Wrinkles formed on Jameson’s forehead. Gazing at the end of the mattress, he drew back the lapels of his suit coat and slipped his hands inside his trouser pockets. “The President doesn’t know yet.”

  Hardy’s eyes widened.

  “I haven’t quite figured out how I’m going to tell him.” Jameson withdrew his left hand and waved it in front of his chest. “But, that’s my problem.” He lifted his eyes and regarded his female agent. “After all you’ve done for your country, Cruz—and me—I thought you deserved to know the truth.” He stood erect and maintained eye contact. “You took a bullet for your country, Cruz, protecting a witness.” The words trigger
ed the phone conversation he had with Hardy and a sliver of a grin passed over his lips. He glanced left. “Or, as Mr. Hardy so eloquently stated it…” Jameson waved a hand and came back to Cruz. “Anyway, I’m sure my suffering the President’s anger won’t be as bad as what you’ve endured.”

  “Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”

  Jameson got Hardy’s attention. “That was nice work in Mexico. With Gutierrez and his son out of the picture, Miss Sinclair should be safe now.” The man Hardy had killed with the steak knife was the only son, and blood relative, of Hector Gutierrez. “The Gutierrez Cartel will have a difficult time regaining its power any time soon.” Jameson included Cruz. “If it were not for your efforts, she would not be alive today. Both of you…good work.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Cruz said before adding, “Did you ever find out how they were tracking us?”

  “Not exactly, but we think it was most likely through my cell phone. Once they gained access to it, they knew everything we were doing. As a result, new security protocols have been implemented throughout the agency, including updating the encryption on every agent’s phone. I’m just relieved there wasn’t a leak in the agency. That would have been worse.” Jameson wished her well again and left the room.

  Hardy turned toward Cruz. She was grinning. One eyebrow was slightly higher than the other one. Hardy had seen the look on a few occasions. She had something to say, something cute or funny.