“I’ve thought about it. There are certainly plenty of people in place who could take her out, but it would expose our presence in the palace. I’m sure Reginald is oblivious to it at this point, and I don’t see the need to change that just yet, not when you’ve concocted such a grand illusion. No, I want to run with your plan, once again. But know this, if it fails and she is not transported across the border, or if she is brought back, then yes we will kill her.”
The door opened and a small boy entered. Clive put out his arms to the boy, who climbed up on his lap. Without breaking stride, he said to Dr. Roth, “Sierra Montgomery is a dangerous force and must be removed at any cost. All our lives depend on it, even my son’s.” Clive squeezed the boy on his lap, and Dr. Roth assumed him to be his son. “If there is any hope to be had for our futures, Sierra must disappear, one way or another.”
“Do you have any men at the border?”
“We might.”
“Well, I may need their help in order to get across it.”
“I’ll see what I can do. For now, you’ll be dropped off at the palace. We will find a matching car with understudies to drive it away from the palace. Your car will be loaded with the bodies and will burn gloriously. All you have to do is report the escape of the two prisoners, and we will take care of the rest. This way, you can remain in your simple station.”
“What is your real long-term objective?”
“Now, Doctor, we really don’t like to put too many pots on to boil or else they all might burn. We focus on small, attainable goals that help further our cause.”
“Fine. You don’t want to tell me, or you really don’t know. I’ll be going then.” Dr. Roth stood and walked to the door.
*****
The next morning, Victor escorted Sierra to Paul. “You can have ten minutes alone or one hour supervised.”
“One hour.”
“Fine.” Victor left the room, but a guard stepped in and closed the door.
Paul sat at an odd angle with his shoulder resting against the wall. His head hung in defeat, and Sierra felt such empathy for him that it brought tears to her eyes. She knew this pose since she had done it herself several times. He had been whipped, and his back must be too sore to lie back. Couple it with his broken ribs, and he couldn’t lie on his sides or stomach either. The only other option was to prop himself up against the wall.
“Paul?” she half whispered and walked slowly to him.
He lifted his head enough to see her, and one side of his face tried to smile. “I’m so sorry, Sara.”
“For what?”
“I should have had more pity for your injuries when I found you. I should have tried harder to understand the kind of pain you must have been in.”
“How could you have known? It is truly something you have to experience first-hand. Besides, you have no complaints from me on how you cared for me.”
She watched as his eyes watered. She sat down in front of him, pulling his head to her shoulder. “We’re going to get through this, Paul, and be stronger because of it. Has Dr. Roth been in yet to help you?”
“He treated me yesterday.”
“I’ll get him to give you a pain killer. For what it’s worth, you probably won’t be beaten today.”
“Really? But I was looking forward to it.”
She looked him in the eye to see his full smile. She laughed a bit. “Don’t let them think you are enjoying this or they’ll step it up a notch.” She looked over her shoulder at the guard, who watched with a grimace on his face. “There was a press conference yesterday announcing me as Victor’s new wife. Reginald loved being able to announce his son had married a Montgomery. It sickened me.”
“Go along with it. Don’t cause waves.”
“As hard as it is to do so, that’s what I’m doing.” She kissed his cheek.
The rest of their hour went by too quickly, and she didn’t want to leave. Dr. Roth came in as her hour ended. The guard ushered her out of the room and closed the door, leaving only Dr. Roth and Paul in the room.
Dr. Roth checked Paul’s wounds and gave him medication. “Tonight, after dinner is served you need to start coughing like your throat is closing in. The guards will either call for me, or bring you to me. Either way works. Just try to be convincing with it, alright?”
“Then what?”
“You’ll follow my lead.”
“Alright.”
*****
Sierra entered the infirmary before dinner. “You wanted to see me?”
“Sit down Sierra.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Tonight is the night,” Dr. Roth whispered.
“We’re escaping tonight?” she asked excitedly.
“No, but the ball will start rolling in that direction. Things are going to look scary to you, and it’s okay to panic and overreact. It will help validate the situation all the more to Reginald.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I really can’t talk about it. Just stick close to Reginald and Victor. You’ll know when it happens.”
“Why does this scare me more than the first time?”
Dr. Roth walked away from her thinking, the first time will have been a walk in the park compared to this, and you should be scared.
*****
“Hey! Go get the doctor! The prisoner is chocking or … something.” The guard looked back into the room to see Paul holding his throat and coughing terribly. Paul tried to get up and walk but staggered and fell to the ground. “Hurry up! His face is turning blue!”
Dr. Roth came running down the hall with his emergency bag. “What’s going on?”
“Don’t know. He just started coughing and gagging.”
Dr. Roth entered the cell and knelt beside Paul. Paul reached for Dr. Roth with one hand, his other one clasping his neck. Dr. Roth saw the fear in Paul’s eyes and watched as he tried to gasp and plead with him. He reached in his bag, pulled out a syringe, and injected it into his arm. Immediately Paul’s eyes closed and his body went limp. “I need help getting him up. Carry his legs. We need to take him to the exam room.”
The guard picked up Paul’s legs while Dr. Roth grabbed him under his arms. Together they hauled him down the hallway and put him up on the exam table.
“Grab that cart and bring it here,” he ordered the guard. He took Paul’s blood pressure and lifted his eyelids. Paul’s eyes were rolled back in his head. He gave another shot into Paul’s arm and listened to his lungs for breath sounds. The guard looked on, concerned.
“Should I get Rawlings?”
“Call up for him, but I need you to stay here.”
*****
Reginald sat at the large dining table with his family. It was new to him to think about family, to think about those who lived before him and those yet to come. Sierra and Victor would now produce an heir, securing Reginald Rawlings’s legacy in the history books. Gaining the favor he needed with the influential population and with countries abroad, he would go on to become the strongest ruler ever.
Pride filled his bosom, and a smile crept over his face.
A servant entered the room and spoke in a low voice to Reginald. “Sir, you have an urgent call from the infirmary. There’s a problem with the prisoner.”
Reginald pushed his chair back so abruptly that it startled everyone. He exited the door and took the call. “I don’t know what happened, but he’s dying, sir,” the guard said on the other end of the line. Reginald caught Victor’s eye at the door and motioned for him to come immediately. No one, including Sierra, missed the urgent tone of the unspoken words.
It only took about thirty seconds for Victor and Reginald to get to the exam room. “You better keep him alive, Doctor,” Victor snarled as they entered.
“I’m doing my best.” Dr. Roth injected a third dose of epinephrine into his vein and began CPR. He instructed the guard to squeeze the air bag every so often; minute after minute ticked by with no pulse.
“Paul!
” Sierra and her ever-present guard had followed them down to the infirmary to find Dr. Roth performing CPR on Paul. She panicked. Was this part of the plan? It looked all too real. She tried to rush into the room, but the father/son duo caught her and held her back. “Dr. Roth, what’s happening?” she half yelled, half cried.
“Get her out of here!” Dr. Roth ordered to her guard.
The guard peeled her away from Victor and Reginald and dragged her upstairs. Dr. Roth could hear her screaming all the way. If nothing else, her agony was genuine. Reginald couldn’t possibly think this was a set-up. Now, if only Paul would respond to the medication and come back.
“Is he dead?” Victor asked in what seemed like an irritated voice.
Dr. Roth still performed chest compressions, and the guard pumped air into Paul’s lungs. This charade had gone on for seven minutes now. If he couldn’t revive Paul very soon, he could suffer brain damage or not wake up at all.
Paul began coughing violently. Dr. Roth reached up and removed the mask and turned Paul’s head to the side in time for him to vomit over the edge of the bed. The guard stepped out of the way, and Victor let out a disgusted grunt.
“It’s common for CPR victims to vomit because of all the air that’s been forced into the stomach,” Dr. Roth informed them.
“Is he going to make it?” Victor asked.
“It’s too early to tell. He’ll need to stay here over night,” Dr. Roth informed Reginald. He worked methodically to insert an IV into Paul’s arm to administer another dose of medicine.
“What happened?” Reginald asked.
“Allergic reaction. His throat closed off.”
“Bring Sierra back down so she can see he’s alive,” Reginald said to Victor.
Dr. Roth heard her voice echoing down the hall a few minutes later and watched as Sierra entered and limped over to Paul. He was still unconscious. “What happened, Dr. Roth?” she asked through her teary eyes as she pressed one of Paul’s limp hands to her mouth.
The door to the exam room shut, and the three of them were now alone. Dr. Roth grabbed her shoulders and guided her to a chair. He sat beside her and took one of her hands into his. He spoke to her in a solemn voice. “He reacted differently to the drug than I predicted. I’m so very sorry. He is breathing on his own, and that says a lot. We will have to wait for him to wake up. Then we’ll move forward with the plan.”
“He’s going to be so angry with you.” She half laughed through her choked sob.
“Yes, he will. Especially because I think I broke another one of his ribs.” He smiled at her and handed her a small sack. “Wear this clothing tomorrow morning when you come to see him. You’d better go now so we don’t raise any suspicions.”
*****
“Oh, Doc, what the hell?” Paul muttered as he woke after midnight.
Dr. Roth walked over to the bedside. “You know, I worried you might not be able to pull off a convincing enough gag attack, but you did pretty good. You could be an actor.”
“I don’t remember … where am I?”
“We’re still in the palace. I’m going to wheel you into the x-ray room and check out your ribs. Try to relax.”
“I feel like I’ve been run over by a train.”
“That’s quite a common feeling after having CPR performed on you.”
“CPR?!”
Dr. Roth unlocked the breaks on the bed and wheeled him into the adjoining room. “I drugged you, Paul, and accidently killed you. But don’t worry, I brought you back. No harm, except for the possibility of a broken rib or two from the chest compressions.” He moved Paul directly under the x-ray machine and placed the film canister under Paul. He stepped behind the wall and took the shot. After repeating the procedure two more times, he wheeled Paul back to the exam room.
Dr. Roth jammed the developed films up in the lighted board, “Yeah, two more cracked ribs. Sorry about that, Paul. Let’s get those taped up.” The painful process of sitting up and wrapping tape took an hour, after which Paul’s bed was raised up to a near sitting position for better comfort. After taking a stiff dose of pain killer, Paul dozed off till morning.
Before breakfast, Sierra rushed down to the infirmary to check on Paul. Her personal guard saluted General Steinman, who stood outside the infirmary door.
“Good morning, Mrs. Rawlings,” the general said.
“Ugh. Don’t call me that. I would like to see Paul. I assume he’s inside, unless you have another high-profile prisoner you’re guarding.”
General Steinman didn’t look amused, but turned and opened the door for Sierra. “Dr. Roth, is the prisoner awake?”
“Not yet, General. Ah Sierra, come in.” Dr. Roth turned to the general. “Your services are no longer needed, General Steinman. I’ve secured the prisoner.”
“Reginald ordered me to guard the boy. It’s not up to you to dismiss me.” General Steinman was a military man to the bone. His perfect posture and immaculate uniform were indications of how dedicated he was to his position.
“Yes, it is up to me, because I’m the one who asked Reginald to place you outside my door. I no longer need your services. You are dismissed.”
“I must hear the order from Reginald.”
Dr. Roth picked up his phone and dialed upstairs. After a few moments he handed the receiver to General Steinman, who muttered a “yes sir” and gave the phone back to Dr. Roth. He threw a vicious glare at Dr. Roth and turned on his heel and left the infirmary.
Dr. Roth ushered Sierra back to the exam room where Paul was. He was awake, and she rushed to his side and took his hand, kissing it repeatedly. “Paul, I was so scared! You were lifeless.” She bent forward and kissed his lips, claiming them as her own.
He brought up one arm and cupped her cheek. His thumb smoothed away the tears off of her soft skin as he pushed her back a little. “Don’t cry. I’m alright.”
“I can’t help it. I thought I’d lost you, again!” All new tears flooded her eyes.
“I’m not that easy to kill,” he said with a smile. His fingertips traced along her cheek and down her neck. “Your skin is soft as silk. I’ve thought that since the first day you and I practiced going under the house and my hands went under your shirt, accidently, of course.”
He was attempting to get her mind off of last night, and she was grateful for it. She never wanted to be in that situation ever again.
“How are those ribs today, Paul?” Dr. Roth asked.
“They hurt, but they’ve taken my mind off of the other pains in my body. Funny how that works, isn’t it?”
Sierra smiled. “I know exactly what you’re talking about.”
“Alright, you two. I believe we’re ready to move forward. I’ll make the phone call to make sure the other end is ready to go. Paul, you should pretend to be asleep, and Sierra, why don’t you sit on this chair here and hold his hand with that doe-eyed look of concern you do so well. This way, if anyone comes into the clinic, like Reginald, we’ll be prepared.”
Sierra sat beside Paul and lovingly held his hand as they listened to Dr. Roth talk to someone on the phone. Dr. Roth used a lot of code words and indirect language that made it hard to decipher what he was saying exactly.
“How soon can your men be ready?” Dr. Roth’s eyebrows shot up quickly. “Well, then, it’s now or never. We go now.” He hung up the phone and looked at the two of them. “Follow me.”
Quite a pair the two of them made. Sierra limped on her splinted leg while allowing Paul to lean on her for support. Paul could barely walk from lack of strength, barely breathe from broken ribs, and he needed to cough but knew better than to. They followed Dr. Roth into a supply closet just off the main exam room. A false wall had been built at the back of the closet, creating a secret room three feet by four feet wide on the other side. They entered the small cubicle, and Dr. Roth explained further. “You both are going to need to sit in the area behind this wall for several hours, if not days, until the rest of this plan transpires. Can you ha
ndle it?”
They looked at each other and smiled.
“But you’ve got to be quiet, no noises, coughing, sneezing, or laughing. The door will always be open, and the light will be on, so any sounds in this room will be heard by anyone out in the exam room.”
They both nodded.
“There’s food and water up on that shelf, and this here is a port-a-potty. I hope neither of you is too shy. I don’t know how long it will take to complete this leg of the plan, and once you are closed in here, I can’t talk to you without risking giving away your location.”
“Alright,” Paul said.
“If you need to communicate with me, use this code guide. The basic necessities are in there with a drug name listed as the code name. Write your drug name on one of these pink slips, and slide it under the wall right here. Penicillin means you need water. Insulin means you need food, and so on. I’ll keep my eye open for pink slips. Make sure you stand and stretch regularly to keep adequate blood flow in your legs.”
“What happens next?” Sierra asked him.
“I figure I have about thirty seconds to execute the next step.”
Dr. Roth took some supplies down from the shelf in the closet. He smeared some thick putty substance over his temple and then took a bag of blood and squirted it on his head and down his lab coat. “Don’t worry, it’s my own blood. It’s time to start this charade. You two have officially fled the palace. Now step inside and pull the wall shut.”
Dr. Roth placed some blood on his hands and haphazardly stumbled around the exam room a bit, touching this and that. He squirted a splotch on the floor and deposited the blood bag in the bio-hazard waste container. He pulled the phone over to the puddle of blood and dialed the upstairs number.
“Help!” he gasped. “Infirmary, escaped.” Dr. Roth dropped the receiver on the floor and laid his head in the puddle of blood and waited.
Behind the false wall in the supply closet, Paul held Sierra close to his body in anticipation of the shakedown.
“What if they find us?” she whispered.
“They won’t. Dr. Roth is very smart. He knows what will look suspicious and what won’t. An open closet with the light on isn’t suspicious. They’ll be searching the palace and the grounds.”
Scars Of Defiance Page 17
