by Frank Perry
repaired. She would be sedated for several hours, and they wouldn’t be able to see her until late that night, after visiting hours … but an exception would be made for family. After that, John excused himself while Kelly’s parents stayed at the hospital.
Several thoughts were converging in his mind. They were involved in something deadly, something that concerned the Institute. Someone, or “someone(s),” was trying to kill them. If it were just him, he’d pack up and leave. He’d disappear for a while. But it wasn’t just him. Kelly was also in danger, he was sure of it. Both attempts to kill him were when he was with her and might have been targeted at both of them. He was the person who had meddled in the database, so he had to be the primary target, but she had become involved, too, and people at GHI knew it -- at least Jules knew it. The hard part was piecing it all together. There was no answer, yet. The world’s most deadly virus was involved, and he assumed that terrorists or some secret government agency wanted it as a weapon, but he had no way to prove any of it. The attacks on him and Kelly had been clumsy, arranged by someone with no experience. He also needed to worry about Mary. He was alone and needed answers fast.
The hospital had an Enterprise car rental office. After taking a new Nissan, John drove to his apartment, constantly evaluating everything around him. It was still daylight and he wouldn’t be caught by surprise again. He half expected his apartment to be trashed like Kelly’s, but it wasn’t touched. At least nothing obvious was disturbed. He moved carefully into the bedroom, wary that a bomb or trap was waiting, but nothing happened. He pulled a locked metal box from under his bed. Kelly didn’t know about it and would have objected before now. Now, she would understand.
Events in the last few days had revived emotions he’d left behind five years earlier. He’d left Afghanistan behind and rejoined the real world. Now, latent alertness was back. The box contained a 9mm handgun and other war memorabilia. He hadn’t opened it since returning to the States. After medical training as a corpsman in the Navy, he’d been assigned to a Marine Corps Force Reconnaissance company for training at Camp Pendleton. They had deployed as a company to Afghanistan, where he’d completed two one-year tours before his enlistment was over. He’d considered staying in the Corps and going to Officer Candidate School, but he’d seen more combat than most military people and wanted to maintain his sanity. Most of his time “in-country” had been spent on isolated patrols in the northeast, near the border with Pakistan. This meant climbing along steep mountain trails in small units for days, trying to track enemy movements. Many times, they’d been involved in ambushes, sometimes attacks by the enemy and other times when set up by the Marines against the enemy. In fire fights, every Marine, regardless of specialty, was an infantry soldier first. Everyone used a weapon. John’s primary job was to tend to the wounds of other Marines, some quite hideous. But when he wasn’t bandaging and arranging medivac, he was firing his weapon and inflicting casualties as expertly as the other grunts. They’d been outnumbered and surrounded twice, fighting hand-to-hand for survival. By the time his last tour was over, he was as experienced as any other Marine.
Now, he had to protect Kelly. He knew there would be another attempt to kill them, and the hospital was where she was most vulnerable; right now, she was completely helpless. Hospitals have security personnel and the staff is vigilant, but they are not impenetrable, especially if an attacker is desperate or cunning. After two failures, someone had to be feeling desperate. He changed into
black cargo pants and put the Beretta in his thigh pocket where it wasn’t noticeable, and then left for the hospital.
When he arrived, Kelly’s parents were still there, waiting silently, patiently. They hadn’t had much time to talk with John earlier. He was obviously injured, and they’d been waiting to hear about their daughter. Now, after some idle time, they wanted answers. The questions were general in the beginning but quickly got right to the point. Why had their daughter been shot at and run off the road with him? John was the obvious target of these attacks and they wanted to know what he had done wrong. What had he done to lead to murder?
John sat across from them, positioned to see the entrance of the ICU ward. Kelly was somewhere inside, lying silently with monitors attached and tubes stuck in her arms. He wanted to talk to her parents, but he wasn’t going to lose sight of anyone approaching the ward. “Honestly, Mr. and Mrs. Egan, I don’t know why any of this is happening. I would only be guessing. The police are investigating, but there aren’t any answers yet.”
Kelly’s father didn’t buy it. “John, look; our daughter has been near death for hours and was nearly shot before that. You must have some idea what this is about. What the hell is going on here?” Mr. Egan knew how to ask questions and how to keep the responder off balance.
He was also right. “Sir, I can only speculate, but it may be linked to the Institute where we both work.”
Her mother was alarmed. “John, why the Institute? Kelly wanted that job so badly. They put her in one of their most important research laboratories. It’s what she wanted, what she trained for all those years. How could this lead to someone trying to harm our girl?”
John remained cautious. He knew the obvious conclusion. It wasn’t their daughter who was the target. She’d almost been killed because she was close to him. He’d put her in danger. “Ma’am, I’m wondering the same thing.” He held up his hand before they could protest. “I’ll tell you everything I know, but nothing I can prove.” He told them everything from the beginning; even the fact that he had involved Kelly in examining the inventory of live virus, which had to have been the point where things turned violent. He could see that they blamed him for Kelly’s injuries. She was their only daughter who was saving lives, maybe even saving the world until she met John. Now her future at GHI was uncertain, maybe even over, and someone was trying to kill her. His prospects, as a future son-in-law, if there ever had been any, were dim.
The rest of the evening was one of awkward silence. The Egans sat across from him, fumbling through magazines or fiddling with smart phones and tablets but not talking to John again that night. Mr. Egan glanced up often, whenever a door opened or an elevator chimed. He was maintaining vigilance, just as was John. He didn’t blame them; they had every right to hold him responsible for Kelly’s injuries. He blamed himself. If he’d just stayed away, become a lobster fisherman, she would be fine right now. It was his fault.
Sometime around midnight, a nurse approached them. The Egans were resting with their eyes closed, but Mr. Egan was awake with every sound. John hadn’t closed his eyes for a moment and was completely alert. As the nurse came closer she said, “Kelly’s awake and would like to see you.” The Egans both stood, but the nurse quickly corrected. “She asked to see John. Are you John?”
Mr. Egan objected. “Nurse, we’re her parents. He’s just an acquaintance; we’re her parents, and we want to see her – now!”
The nurse was obviously experienced with highly-stressful situations. She looked kindly, but firmly, at the Egans. “If you will be a little patient, folks, I’m sure she wants to see you also. But right now, she asked specifically for this gentleman.”
If looks could kill, John wouldn’t survive this attack. He followed the nurse and ignored their glaring stares. As they entered the ward, the nurse cautioned, “No more than ten minutes and don’t upset her. She’s had major surgery.”
He nodded. “I understand.”
Most of the beds were empty. Kelly was in the center of the beds with no partitions separating the beds. In the ICU, privacy and visitors were not primary concerns. John had been there many times, visiting wounded Marines. Her face was swollen and bruised with a large bandage around her head where it had shattered the side window. She was wearing a neck brace and couldn’t turn to see him approach. Her eyes were remarkably alert as she saw him and she spoke through a split lip. “Hey, how are you?”
She knew he would be worried sick and blaming himself again. She wanted to see him first because she knew her parents; she knew they would be crucifying him with words and looks. She knew them well. She loved them all, but worried most about John doing something foolish.
He’d stood beside wounded comrades before, but never someone he loved like Kelly. If his feelings had ever been vague regarding her, they were clear now. He loved her, heart and soul. She was a mess at the moment, but she would heal. Even if she was scarred, it wouldn’t make a shred of difference. He loved her more than anything in life.
He was suddenly angry, mad as hell that someone was doing this to them, to her. Impulse drove him. He’d find the GHI people responsible, starting tonight. He would pistol-whip each until he got answers. It didn’t matter that most of them would be innocent. Kelly was innocent! She was a good person, the best, and she’d nearly been killed. She didn’t deserve any of this. He wouldn’t kill anyone, but he’d hurt them if he had to. There were no
