The Twelfth Of Never: A suspense mystery romantic thriller

by Lillian Francken

  "Don't talk, you've had a tracheotomy," Gideon said, getting up quickly. He put his hand on Delaney's shoulder, squeezed tight, and then leaned forward. "I have to know what's going down."

  Delaney slowly shook his head no. He tried to talk again, but nothing came out, only the sound of air as it gurgled though the tube. He motioned with his head for Gideon to untie the restraints. Delaney watched as Gideon undid the ties, and then pointed to the pen and pad on the hospital tray. With watchful eyes, Delaney followed Gideon's every move.

  "Are you going to tell me?" Gideon asked again.

  Delaney slowly scrawled. "Go to hell."

  "We have to know where it's going down." Gideon said as he leaned over the railing.

  "I almost died!" Delaney wrote.

  "Why Wayne?" Gideon continued. "Has it anything to do with his visit to Egypt last week?" Gideon waited a moment while he watched Delaney's reaction to what he said. There was nothing, only indifference.

  Delaney quickly scrawled some more words. "Leave me alone." He then slammed the pen and pad on the tray and just stared straight ahead.

  "Not until you talk to me."

  Delaney forced a smile while raising his hands at his helpless condition. Finally after a few moments he picked up the pen and quickly wrote another message. "What part of no, don't you understand?"

  "You bastard." Gideon grabbed the hospital gown, raising Delaney off the bed. The monitor beeps quickened, within moments the door swung open. Gideon quickly released his grip on Delaney, and then walked to the end of the bed.

  "Is there a problem in here?" The young nurse asked.

  "He's fine," Gideon snapped.

  The nurse glanced at Delaney for reassurance. "You okay?" she asked.

  Delaney nodded. The nurse stood there a few moments, and then turned and left. Gideon was sure she would be back with reinforcements next time.

  Standing at the end of the bed Gideon stared at Delaney while hanging onto the metal railing. "Do you have family?" Gideon asked, as he watched Delaney nervously look around the room as if searching for the answer. "I could contact them for you."

  Delaney's father would never understand the life he lived or the choice he'd made five and a half years ago. Delaney did not even understand it anymore. At the time he would have given anything to live, but the life he led now was not at all what he called living. It was not what one would even call existing. He almost envied John Hamilton. He had chosen his end back in Vietnam rather than sell his soul to the devil's advocate.

  "Are you going to answer me?"

  A tear rolled down Delaney's cheek as he shook his head. Even after all these years he could not face them.

  "You have to trust me," Gideon pleaded. He walked closer to the nightstand and leaned over the bed. This time he did not touch the man, yet still the beats on the monitor quickened.

  Delaney frowned, before mouthing the words, "Sure, like yesterday."

  "They know you're here, they could try again."

  Delaney picked up the pad and pen, and then quickly wrote, "And you will protect me?" A mocking hollow sound came from Delaney as he handed the pad to Gideon.

  "Unless you give us something, Colby calls this off."

  "He wouldn't." Delaney tried to say as he stared at Gideon searching for a clue as to whether Gideon was serious about the threat.

  "You better think about it," Gideon snapped, knowing it was blackmail, but if it was the only way to get Delaney to talk, so be it.

  Delaney shut his eyes. He was tired and scared; all he wanted was for the killing to stop, but he knew it could never be. The only thing he could really hope for were the nightmares to end.

  Once Gideon was done with Delaney he walked down the hall to Ambassador Wayne's room. There were three guards posted outside. After yesterday's botched job, no one was taking any chances. Gideon entered the room without any trouble, he knew the agents outside from yesterday morning. Wayne was lying comfortably in his paisley pajamas watching the morning news. The bullet wound was superficial so he was due to be released later that morning.

  "Pardon me," Wayne said in his English drawl while looking up at the man entering the room. He watched Gideon approach the bed, and quickly grabbed for the button to summon the guard, but suddenly Gideon snatched it from his reach.

  "No, I want to talk to you about yesterday." Gideon let go of the button and reached in his pocket.

  "Guards!" Wayne called out.

  The guards entered the room just as Gideon showed Wayne his badge.

  The ambassador breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, you're one of those," he said with raised eyebrows.

  "I have to talk to you about yesterday."

  Wayne motioned to the guards. They turned and walked back out. "What's to say?"

  "A lot. Like why are you on the KGB's hit list?"

  "I don't know. You'll have to ask the chap down the hall. Oh, but isn't he an American?"

  "He was," Gideon said under his breath.

  "How should I know why someone wants me killed?"

  "It has something to do with your visit at the Egyptian Ambassador's residence last week. Where are the talks being held?"

  "How do you know about all of that?"

  "It doesn't take a genius to guess what's going down. Christ, the KGB knows more than we do. That should tell you it isn’t ever going to happen."

  "The agency is out of it. Carter's orders were clear on that." Wayne snapped as he sat up in his bed, and then crossed his arms. The determination on his face told Gideon he had nothing more to say.

  It was a stalemate. Wayne was not going to betray confidences. Finally, after half an hour of trying to convince the ambassador otherwise, Gideon gave up all hope of learning what it was that Wayne knew and Delaney was willing to die for in order that the right people were informed.

  * * *

  Once Gideon left his room, Delaney sighed with relief. He caught a glimpse of the guard outside and figured he would be safe for now. He stared at the window, wondering if he would ever see another sunrise. Up until that point, what he'd done really had not mattered in the scheme of things. The men he killed were bad and deserved to die. It was the only way he could justify doing any of it. But now, what was going to go down would affect world peace, and for the first time he could not justify the intervention. All he wanted was for the killings to stop.

  Just then the door opened and a nurse walked in. It startled him out of his self-revelation. Delaney looked up at her short blonde hair with ringlets that haloed her face. Even in the dimly lit room, Delaney could tell she was pretty as she reached above the bed and turned on the light. The big blue eyes that stared back at him mesmerized Delaney. A smile crossed the young woman's face as he looked at her nametag. He instantly liked Cindy for some reason. She reminded him of his sister, Kate. A sharp pain went through him at the fond memories of family and home because Delaney knew they could never be anything more than a memory for him.

  Cindy took hold of his wrist, and then counted the faint beats while the thermometer was tucked under his tongue. Once she had all the data, Cindy turned to Delaney and smiled again.

  "How are we feeling this morning?" She did not wait for him to answer, just ran the back of her hand along his chin. "You need a shave, Mr. Hamilton."

  Delaney could feel the tingle of her touch. Her smile warmed him deep inside, stirring feelings he suppressed long ago when he'd chosen this life. It felt good after years of avoiding the female gender because of his trade in life. Delaney picked up the tablet and quickly wrote a few words. "I could use a bath too." he wrote, and then smiled at the young woman.

  "I don't do baths," Cindy raised her eyebrows and smiled.

  Her smile was pleasant and almost made him forget why he was there.

  "What time is it?" he wrote, then handed the pad to Cindy.

  Cindy glanced at her watch. "Seven thirty," she replied.

  Delaney quickly scrawled. "Could I at least get a shave?"

  C
indy glanced down at him, and then turned to the door. "I suppose I could. You would feel much better." She ran her hand over the stubbles of his beard. "I'll be right back."

  Delaney watched her disappear out the door. It did not take long before she returned with a little packet wrapped in clear plastic. She walked into the bathroom and he heard running water. Within minutes Cindy was back with a pan of warm water in one hand, a towel and the packet in the other. Cindy set everything on the hospital tray in front of him. Delaney watched Cindy intently as she lathered his face and carefully shaved away the stubbles. She was cautious around his neck bandages. It felt good to be taken care of and felt even better to have a woman dote over him.

  Once done, Cindy wiped away the excess lather, and then picked up the mirror that lay on the table and handed it to Delaney. He mouthed the words "Thank you," and smiled at the blonde goddess.

  "That's what I'm here for."

  He set the mirror down and picked up the pad. "Can you stay?" Delaney wrote.

  Cindy glanced at her watch; she was on rounds and did not have time, but nodded her head anyway. "I only have a few minutes."

  She did most of the talking and Delaney figured Cindy Malone was used to talking to people who were unable to answer. He managed to communicate with her through writing. But most of their talk only required a nod of the head, which was easy for him. Delaney knew as long as she was there he was safe, and he liked that feeling. Even though the armed guard was stationed outside, he still felt uneasy. In time he would have to trust someone, but whom? He was not sure. All he knew was that a stranger like Cindy was more worthy of his trust than the men he'd sought out to protect him.

  Cindy got up finally, smiled, and then said, "I better get going. I'm already late for rounds."

  "Can't you stay?" Delaney wrote quickly with a pleading look in his eyes.

  She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. "I'll check in on you tomorrow."

  "Promise?" Delaney mouthed.

  She smiled, and then patted his hand. "Don't worry, you're in good hands."

  Delaney grabbed Cindy's arm. With the other he motioned for her to wait a moment. He quickly scrawled a note. "Would you do me a favor?"

  "Sure. What?" Cindy answered reluctantly, and then waited for his response.

  "Give someone a note."

  Delaney wrote down the name and the address of the University where he knew Jenny Hamilton worked. He scrawled a quick message, and then handed both slips of paper to Cindy.

  Delaney had Jenny Hamilton checked out a long time ago when he decided to use her husband's identity. He purposely avoided that area of the city, for fear he would raise suspicion or run into someone who knew the real John Hamilton.

  He did not know if what he said would get Jenny to come, or for that matter what he expected of her. But he knew one thing: he had to tell the woman her husband was dead. He would decide when she got there if he would trust her with more.

  Delaney patted Cindy's hand, and then mouthed the word, "Thanks."

  Cindy walked to the door. She turned and forced a smile. When the door shut behind her, Delaney rested his head on the pillow. He shut his eyes while listening to the heart monitor and wondered how long he would be tied to machines. His only hope was that Ian could not get to him. His side throbbed now that the hypo was wearing off. If Ian found him, there would not be anything to worry about. Ian would see to that.

  CHAPTER 7

  Jenny busied herself going over reports, fine-tuning the last minute additions Steve had suggested. Then she verified all the figures and, once done, leaned back in her chair savoring the quiet and solitude the morning offered. Jenny stood up, walked over to the window, and looked down at the constant movement of colors as students scurried to their next class while others sat on blankets, using the time to study. She envied them their carefree lives before they had to go out into the harsh real world.

  Slowly the door opened. Jenny turned and was taken aback by the perky blonde standing in the doorway. The white uniform made her pale complexion tan by comparison. Jenny shrugged her off as a student nurse wanting last minute changes in a fall schedule that was already cast in stone.

  "Can I help you?" Jenny asked.

  "I'm looking for Jenny Hamilton. The lady down the hall said to come in here."

  "What can I do for you?"

  "I was asked to give you this message," Cindy said. She walked into the room and reached in her pocket for the wrinkled note. Cindy handed it to Jenny, and then stepped back. Her task accomplished, all she wanted was to go home now.

  Jenny stared at the RN insignia, realizing the young woman was no longer a student. She glanced down at the slip of paper but did not recognize the handwriting. Jenny's heart raced while reading the words.

  "Is this a joke?" Jenny snapped while looking up. She just stared for what seemed like an eternity.

  For a moment Cindy thought the woman in front of her would faint. Cindy was tired. She'd just come off a twelve-hour shift and all she wanted was a hot bath and eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. She did not have time to play question-and-answer games with the woman standing in front of her.

  "He just asked me to do him a favor, that's all."

  "Where is he?"

  "He's a patient at New York Hospital, where I work." Cindy shook her head, but then remembered she had not mentioned that to Jenny yet.

  "How long has he been there?" Jenny asked.

  "They brought him in yesterday, it's been in all the papers."

  "What's been in all the papers?"

  "The attempt on Ambassador Wayne's life, he was there. I guess he helped save the Ambassador."

  "I worked late last night, I didn't hear the news."

  "They have guards posted outside his door."

  "Why are you telling me?" Jenny asked.

  "Only nurses and doctors are allowed in. Absolutely no visitors, were the orders given to us."

  "How did he think I could get in to see him then?"

  "I don't think he thought about it."

  Jenny studied the note. The handwriting definitely was not John's. But who would play such a cruel joke on her? She glanced up at Cindy, and then asked, "Would you please help me?"

  "It could mean trouble," Cindy said defensively at first.

  "Then why did you bother bringing me this note?" Jenny held up the note while staring at Cindy.

  "I didn't read it. If I had, I certainly would have told him about our orders." Cindy regretted coming now. She looked for an excuse to leave, but Jenny would not let her go so easily.

  "If someone wanted to get in and talk to him, how would they go about it? Without raising suspicion, that is."

  The young woman shrugged her shoulders. She sheepishly smiled as she pointed down at her uniform. It had not even occurred to Jenny how easily the whole thing could be pulled off.

  "I could drop one off for you. We're about the same size," Cindy said with a gleam in her eye, then quickly added, "You have to promise to return it?"

  "I promise. When can I get it?" Jenny pleaded. Her heart raced at the idea of seeing John again.

  "This morning, I guess. I'll be back in about an hour."

  "Good. I would like to talk to him as soon as possible."

  Cindy left the University and took the bus to West 12th Street, where she shared an apartment with Kelly McFlory. She was too tired to walk the six blocks, and when she saw the tiny shoe shop below her apartment, she almost changed her mind about returning to the University. Her feet hurt, and she could not stop yawning. But as she stepped off the bus, she knew in her heart she could not disappoint Jenny Hamilton, like she could not say no earlier to the patient at the hospital.

  "Morning, Cindy," Mr. Bernstein said as he rolled down the canopy above his shop.

  "Looks like it's going to be a beautiful day, Sal," Cindy replied looking up at the clear sky. It was an exchange they had every morning. Cindy would be ending her day when the old merchant started his. It never
bothered her, the clatter of noise from below. Even when Sal worked in the back on shoe repair, it was not enough to disturb the tired nurse.

  "Weatherman says rain later," Sal quickly added.

  "Wouldn't you know?" Cindy said with a frown.

  "I'll try to keep the noise down this morning."

  "Don't worry, I have to go out anyway."

  Cindy left Sal, quickly walking up the flight of stairs. Once in the apartment, she tiptoed around the pop and beer cans that were scattered about the living room floor. Bowls of popcorn and chips filled the tables, with open containers of dip. Cindy looked around the room, almost in tears from exhaustion. Her body ached. She was upset that John Hamilton had played on her sympathy, and angry with herself for not saying no to Jenny.

  Cindy went to the closet and pulled out a uniform still wrapped in plastic from the cleaners. Then she walked over to the dresser, took the RN pin with her name and tucked it in the pocket of the uniform. It would do no good to have the uniform without some form of ID. Cindy quickly put her extra nursing shoes in a brown paper bag. Looking around she almost changed her mind about the whole adventure, but then left the apartment and caught the bus back to the University. It was a trip she'd made many times before when she was a student there. She glanced at her watch. It was almost nine thirty and if she hurried she would make it back to her apartment before Sal would go in the back to do shoe repairs.

  Cindy tapped lightly on the office door before entering. Jenny was working at her desk near the window. Her soft hazel eyes glanced up, and a smile crossed her face at seeing the neatly pressed uniform on the hanger.

  "I was hoping you wouldn't change your mind," Jenny sighed.

  "I gave my word."

  "You don't know what this means to me," Jenny replied. She had not been able to think of anything else since Cindy left earlier.

  "There's one of my RN pins in the pocket. You have to promise to return all of this," Cindy said, looking sternly at Jenny.