Foreign Threat

by Mitchell Goldstein

  Dr. Carmichael dashed through the front doors without another word.

  Chapter 34

  Steve hurried to his car without looking back. He pulled out his keys from his pocket and started the engine. Just before peeling out of the parking lot like a mad man, he decided to look in his rearview mirror to see if they were hot on his tail.

  Nothing.

  Without active pursuers, Steve figured it would be best not to make a scene. He pulled back from his parking spot. He looked again – still nothing – so he placed the gear into drive and took off at a normal speed.

  He turned on to a frontage road and veered to the left to get on the highway. He glanced in the mirror again and saw no cars or police lights. As he fell into the driving routine, he replayed all of the events from the morning, including his last conversation with Jake.

  The bogus intercom page for Jake was an obvious attempt to get him to take the stairs. Steve wondered how the enemies were able to get to the intercom system, but if they were with the CIA, then they had sophisticated gadgets to connect to the system. Probably not a big chore for those guys, Steve thought. Once they had Jake in the stairwell, they beat him up thoroughly but still made it look like he was in so much of a hurry for this code that he missed a stair or two and fell. But why?

  Steve glanced out the windows, through the mirrors, and even over his shoulder to make sure the coast was still clear. He watched a few cars behind his to check for unusual people following him. After a few minutes of vigilant watching in all directions, he felt confident that he was not being followed.

  He went back to thinking about why those people were after Jake. Maybe Jake owed someone money, but then why would the CIA want to kill him? Why would they give him money in the first place? There were so many questions to be answered, but the one with all the answers was dead.

  As Steve considered Jake’s death, he started to think about the other people who had mysteriously died in the preceding week. Very strange. He remembered Jake’s last few words: “They are all after us.” What did Jake mean by us?

  The more Steve thought, the more pieces he put together. First A.J., who was in excellent shape, died from a heart attack. Then Karla and Sue were each attacked. Then Jake was dead. Steve felt his heart flutter with panic. A.J., Karla, Sue and Jake. They were all together the night that foreign kid had come in with the abscess. Maybe Jake wasn’t the final one. That was what he meant by us – they were after Steve as well. Steve was the final link to that OR crew. They, whoever they were, were trying to kill the entire OR crew. But why?

  Suddenly Steve heard tires screeching. He noticed a black suburban turning onto the ramp behind him. He saw the vehicle fishtail as it pulled onto the highway. He knew it was no coincidence.

  Just as Steve felt another panic attack rising in his chest, he noticed an off ramp. Rather than reduce his speed, he accelerated down the ramp. The black suburban was right behind him. A line of cars was waiting at a stoplight, but he quickly swerved around them to turn right on the street. People honked, but no police cars were in sight. The one time that Steve would love to be pulled over, there was not a single cop around.

  Suddenly Steve realized the reason why no cops were appearing. There was one chasing him. The suburban had its

  own flashing lights. Of course: it was the CIA.

  Steve floored his car down a little road, swerving away from

  cars in order not to hit any of them. He noticed an opportunity to get away from the chase as a semi was delivering some goods to a little store. Steve floored the car as the truck was backed up toward the other side of the street. His car barely made it through, scraping the passenger mirror off.

  He heard the suburban slam on its brakes. He could just barely see the tires of the suburban from under the truck. He took a deep breath of relief.

  Just as he was thinking it was over, Steve noticed another suburban pull on to his street with flashing lights behind him. This vehicle was also black. Steve slammed the accelerator down to the floor again. This is crazy! Steve thought. He half expected to find helicopters flying overhead.

  Steve had been on this street several times – but never flying at the present speed. He turned the steering wheel from side to side to avoid cars and people. He once glanced down at the speedometer and saw 95mph, the fastest he had ever driven.

  He saw a small side street with a ‘one way’ arrow. He took a quick turn, trying to lose his pursuers but to no avail. That new suburban was glued to his backside. The faster he went, the faster they went.

  They finally came to a stretch of road that was straight and more country than city. Steve watched his speed reach 110mph, but that suburban was behind him by just a few feet. He noticed a small lake alongside a turn in the road up ahead. Steve wasn’t sure he could control the car at this speed and make the turn, but there wasn’t enough time to reduce his speed.

  Steve tried to ease the car into the turn, but before he knew it, the momentum started to roll the car toward the lake. He felt the car roll at least twice but lost count as he saw the water quickly approaching. With a quick jolt, his car landed upside down on the water.

  Steve quickly looked back and saw the suburban slow down behind him on the shore. He could feel water seeping inside his car. He noticed that the front end was facing the opposite shore. Without even thinking about the risks, he took a huge breath of air, kicked through his window, and pulled himself out against the pressure of the water coming in from the window. He rose to the surface in front of the car and took a couple of breaths. The car had not yet sunk completely, so the tires and underside provided Steve temporary visual protection from the men in the other vehicle.

  He took another huge breath, turned toward the opposite shore, and pushed himself under the surface to swim for safety. He lasted over a minute before his body demanded a fresh breath. He rolled onto his back so his face was pointing toward the sky. He brought only his mouth up to the surface, exhaled, and quickly sucked in as much air as his lungs could hold. Then he flipped back over to swim again. This time he lasted longer before needing to exhale and inhale. He never took a chance to bring his head out of the water to see what the men were up to, but he was confident that would protect his escape.

  At last, he felt his arms hit a tree branch. He carefully navigated through the debris until he was hidden in the middle of the growth. He refilled his lungs again without showing the rest of his face but then rotated his face so that only his eyes were exposed.

  Steve determined that he was on the other side of the lake.

  Fortunately, the tree gave him some camouflage to see what those men were doing by his overturned car. They appeared to be waiting for Steve to pop up at the surface nearby. Steve watched them get something from inside their coats. He couldn’t tell what they drew, but soon he could hear them shooting pistols toward the submerged car as if to ensure that

  Steve was dead.

  Steve shuddered with each gunshot.

  Chapter 35

  Steve didn’t move for what seemed like an eternity. He was paralyzed in the water. His body started to shiver, but he didn’t move even after the men left. He couldn’t be sure if they had seen him alive. Even if they hadn’t noticed him at a distance, they might return, in search of his lifeless body. Regardless, trauma from the day’s events had caught up with Steve, and he just could not move from the shock of it all.

  Once he lost sensation in his legs from the temperature of the lake, he figured that was nature’s cue that he better get out. He looked toward the shore behind him and saw that he was only a few yards from land. As he waded over, he considered his next move. He had no doubt that they would eventually realize that he was still alive and begin their pursuit all over again.

  Before they caught on, he had to get home to get dry clothes, more money, food, and a few extra items in case he couldn’t make it home for a while. He took a few minutes to realize where he was and the direction he needed to go in order to make it h
ome. Then he started his walk home. He knew he would be conspicuous since he was soaking wet, so he took back roads to stay out of people’s view.

  The crazy car chase had taken him closer to home, so he had only a few miles to cover on foot. Dazed by recent events, Steve didn’t notice as his clothes became a little stiff from the cool weather. They weren't frozen but getting close with the temperature outside dropping toward the forties.

  As he walked, Steve’s mind tried to figure out what the men were after and why Jake had been in such trouble. Steve could not believe that they were real agents, so he could understand why Jake told him not to trust the CIA, but why would they do such a thing? Were they also responsible for the deaths of A.J., Karla, and Sue?

  Steve was contemplating the answers to those questions as he subconsciously approached his duplex. He could see several marked and unmarked sedans and SUVs parked outside his house. Several agents were walking around the yard. He stopped one house away and jumped behind some bushes to watch the activity. He could just make out figures in the house moving about as if they were looking for something. He noticed two men near the door who were discussing something with the energy of an argument. As Steve roamed the area with his eyes, one thing was certain: he wasn’t going to make it in to his house for dry clothes, so there was no need to stay there and get discovered.

  He checked his surroundings and then slowly backed away from the bushes. Just as he started toward the back alley, voices startled him. He sought shelter at the nearest house. He quickly placed his trembling hand on the handle of a sliding glass door. The door miraculously slid open, and Steve slipped into the house. His heart was pounding as two men in suits walked by that side of the house just moments later. He was relieved that they failed to notice the door was slowly closing as they walked by.

  Steve held his breath for a minute. After deciding that the agents were not coming back, he sat down on a chair in his neighbor’s kitchen. It took a few moments for him to acknowledge that he had just broken into this house. He needed to determine if anybody was home. He didn’t want to attract attention from the men outside by yelling, so he walked through the house calling out quietly instead. No one was home.

  Steve developed a few ideas, none of which was legal. The first thing that he needed to find was some dry clothes. He found a bedroom and started to go through the closet. The clothes were

  a little big for him, but it was nothing a belt couldn’t fix.

  Steve was not in a position to be too fussy, though. As long as he was breaking and entering, he figured he might as well take extra clothes. It would be a while before he could get back into his house. With all the activity next door, Steve was not sure when it would be safe to come back to the neighborhood. He scrounged around the house until he found a backpack. Then he rummaged through the wardrobe to find jeans, shirts, and a sweatshirt.

  Steve took a final glance around the room for anything else that he might need. For a split second, he thought about underwear, but that was too much to tolerate. However, he remembered that he was standing in soaking cold clothes, so he gave in to just one oversized pair of briefs.

  After he changed and packed the extra clothes, he took a moment to check the scenery outside. He quietly made his way to the dining room, which had two large windows that overlooked his house. He gently pulled the drapes open from one side and studied the landscape.

  A fair amount of commotion continued around his house. Three or four agents were standing in front talking, and a few others were walking around the perimeter. The action inside appeared to continue as well.

  Steve peered through the living room windows too. There he saw more activity than he expected. Several cars were still in place along the street. He could not figure out why there was so much activity at his house. What were they looking for? It was not like he was involved in some sort of scandal or robbery.

  Maybe that was it. Maybe Jake was involved in a robbery or a drug trafficking deal, and the guy in the overcoat all those times at the hospital was really a drug lord or a runner or something like that. Steve knew his imagination was running wild, but he just didn’t have enough answers to separate fantasy

  and reality.

  Steve sat down in the living room and continued to analyze the situation. If this was indeed a robbery, Steve could not believe that A.J. and the nurses were involved. Steve was definitely not involved. Why were they in his house? If they thought they had just killed him, then what did they want in his house? Were they interrogating Pudge?

  He thought for a few more minutes, and then a light bulb clicked on in his head. Actually, it was a vision. A vision of the OR on the night with the young foreign man who had a belly full of pus after an apparent appendectomy.

  Steve remembered Jake’s possessive attitude regarding the abscess mass. Jake had been adamant about taking the specimen to Pathology himself instead of allowing the nurse as usual. Steve recalled Jake’s anxiety over the entire process once the specimen was found and removed.

  Steve wondered if it would still be appropriate to view the Path report to get a better idea as to what was going on. He knew it wouldn’t be safe to call into the Path Department and ask for the report himself. The CIA was all over, and then Steve’s location would be identified. They would probably stall the call unnecessarily while they tracked him. It was better if they still assumed he was dead. His snooping around needed to be covert.

  Steve thought for a while longer, comfortably seated on his neighbor’s couch, and then came up with a terrific idea. He needed to get to the public library, sign online, and go through the hospital computer system to get the results. If the CIA was indeed trying to track outsiders, they would just get the public library’s identification, and Steve would remain under the radar. He still needed to wait until all the activity from next door quieted down before he could escape from his neighbor’s

  house, but then he would hurry to the library.

  Steve looked at the window and then at a clock on the man-

  tel. He figured he had another hour or two before he would have to vacate to avoid being caught by the house’s real owners. He closed his eyes for a while to pass the time waiting. Just as he was about to doze off, he heard the car doors slamming and engines being revved up. Steve slowly made his way to the window and saw the cars leaving in a major exodus. After all the commotion, two vehicles remained in the street, which meant people were still in the house. What were they searching for?

  He decided this would be a safe time to sneak out. His only remaining problem was transportation. He thought for a moment and then just shook his head, no way. Yet he couldn’t resist walking to the kitchen door and peeking into the garage. Parked there was a hot red Corvette. It wasn’t a very subtle car, but it would certainly be able to outrun most CIA SUVs.

  Steve looked around near the door, found a key rack, and identified the key for the car. It had a tiny Corvette on the chain. He grabbed a winter cap on his way toward the car. He lipped inside the car as he pushed the button for the automatic garage door opener.

  In full view of the lingering CIA agents, he backed his new Corvette down the driveway and on to the street. He nodded his head as two agents waved a polite hello and got on his way.

  As Steve calmly turned on the next road, he considered what just transpired. In front of a clan of CIA agents, Doctor Steve Carmichael broke into a house, stole several articles of clothing, and drove off with a stolen vehicle. What an extraordinary day

  for a surgery intern!

  Chapter 36

  Steve enjoyed his sweet new ride on the way to the library. He tried not to think about the fact that he had stolen the car. As he pulled up in front of the library, he realized that he didn’t see any CIA agents or dark SUVs. He also felt like a free person again.

  He parked the car and looked around but saw no conspicuous people. He was grateful for a break to collect his thoughts and make plans without having to worry about being killed by the CIA or
whoever they were. How fortunate that they all thought he was already dead.

  Steve walked into the library and looked the place over. He had never been in this particular library before, so he wasn’t sure where the computers were. As he gazed from left to right, he heard a calm voice.

  “Can I help you out, young man?” a sweet older woman asked.

  Despite the quiet tone, Steve was in such deep thought that he nearly jumped to the moon.

  “I’m so sorry,” the old woman giggled. “I didn’t mean to startle you!”

  Steve forced a smile. “Oh, that’s okay. I was just trying to remember where the computers were.”

  The lady returned his smile and said, “They are on the second floor.”

  As he followed her directions, Steve thought about what he needed to do. He had to check the pathology on the specimen from the night they were all in the case. He wanted to make contact with Sweetpea since he didn’t know the next time he would be online. He needed to ask why she said he should

  watch his back.

  He decided to email Sweetpea first. He told her about the bizarre course of events and the rotten day he was having. As he started to address what she had said, she appeared on instant messaging.

  “Steve, you need to be very careful. These people you are dealing with are really bad, and they are trying to kill you like the others!! Where are you? Let me help!”

  Steve did need help but now he was skeptical as to who this person was and how she knew so much. He debated ditching the computer so they couldn’t track him, but probably it was too late. “Who are you? And why should I trust you? Why didn’t you tell me before that you knew about this and that I was in danger?”

  “I needed to protect you and still bring these guys down. I work for the CIA, and you need to trust me because you are in a lot of trouble, but if I don’t know where you are I can’t help you or protect you.”