I think so.
Look at the whiteboard.
Edie navigated over until she could see the whiteboard. A white square like a projector light showed up and then a photo of Sasha appeared.
Okay?
Yes. Okay. Are you hurt? Faina? JC?
All good. Sasha is only two minutes out. He will bring you to me. Need to get your head checked out.
I’m fine.
It wasn’t a request.
Edie shook her head. That sounded exactly like Skye.
Fine.
A voice intruded on her digital conversation.
“Hey, there you are.”
Edie looked up as Sasha approached, an easy smile on his face. He seemed utterly relaxed, wearing a T-shirt and jeans and looking like any other person on the street. Edie stood and walked toward him. Unexpectedly, he pulled her in lightly and kissed her cheek. An easy, friendly gesture. He also whispered in her ear.
“Did you see anyone following?” he said, pulling back again, that easygoing smile still on his face.
Edie shook her head, unable to speak.
“Come on. Your ride awaits.”
Edie fell in step beside him, Sasha keeping the conversation light as he guided Edie by a brief touch on the arm. They were walking back toward the laundromat, and Edie’s stomach clenched.
“It’s okay,” Sasha said, obviously reading her distress. “The place is swarming with cops. And we’re not heading there anyway. Strict instructions from the boss to take you directly to the hospital.”
“Where’s Skye?” Edie said.
“She’ll meet us there.” Sasha indicated a grey Honda Accord parked outside a low apartment building. “Hop in.”
Edie got in the car, fastened her seat belt, and Sasha eased them into traffic, through the downtown streets and onto the Queensway. Something wasn’t quite sitting right, the information wasn’t falling into place the way it should.
“Where is Skye right now?” Edie said again. “Right this second.”
Sasha tried flashing a smile at her. For a lot of reasons, that wasn’t going to work. Edie waited with the patience of a journalist after information.
Sasha sighed. “She’s at the hospital.”
Nausea. No time. “Tell me what happened.”
“Let’s start with the part where she’s okay. Everyone is. Well, some of those Russian dudes aren’t doing so hot. Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.”
“Faina is in custody and needs clearance by a doctor before the OPP could bring her in and question her. SOP.”
Standard operating procedure. Like any of this could be considered standard.
“Go on,” Edie said.
“Skye and Constable Caldwell were both cut in the process of apprehending the suspects.”
“Cut.” That word had too many connotations. A scratch that ripped at skin, blood trembling to the surface. The clean, shallow slice of a blade. An incision. The violent invasion of a blade into flesh.
“Cut,” Sasha said. This time his voice had edge. “One of the suspects, the woman, had a blade. Neither one is life-threatening. I promise.”
Edie trusted him.
They didn’t speak again until they got to the hospital. Sasha confidently pulled into a spot right out front that clearly stated No Parking. He grinned at Edie.
“I’m trying to beat last month’s parking ticket total. Bart loves it.”
Sasha talked his way through the secure Emergency Department, his easygoing attitude and some type of security badge paving the way. Edie followed blindly, trying to block out the smell of hospital. It was all familiar: the intrusion of the hospital intercom, the press of bodies in the busy hallway, the inexplicable combination of misery and work place.
“Edie.”
As Skye walked toward Edie, she noticed two things. First, Skye was holding the left side of her body carefully angled away from Edie. Second, as Edie was searching Skye’s expression for evidence of their connection, Skye seemed equally intent on hiding it.
“You need to be triaged,” Skye said, a commander issuing orders to her troop.
“You’re hurt,” Edie said.
Skye looked down at her left arm briefly. The white bandage under the edge of her shirt was innocuous, capable of hiding any number of injuries.
“I’m fine. Tell me about your head. Have you seen a nurse?” Skye hadn’t moved, but she was retreating nonetheless. Her voice was brittle with precision.
“Not yet,” Sasha said. “I brought her right here, boss.”
“You need to get checked out, too,” Edie insisted.
“Your head is more important.”
A nurse, an Asian man about Edie’s height with broad shoulders, black hair, a stern expression, and a definite twinkle in his eyes interceded. “You both need to sit down and be quiet and follow orders,” he said. “That’s the only way whatever police drama you have going on here is going to end. I’m Nurse Brian, and I’ve got orders to treat you troublemakers and clear you out of here. So who’s first?”
Edie pointed at Skye. “She’s bleeding.”
Skye gave Edie a disbelieving look. “Nice try. Tell him or I will.”
“Yes, tell me. I do love a reluctant history.” Nurse Brian crossed his arms in a show of extreme patience.
Edie sighed. “I have a history of severe concussion, a year ago, and about an hour ago I hit my head.”
Brian uncrossed his arms and took a step closer to Edie. She felt his evaluation of her pupils.
“I’ve had no blurriness or double vision, at no point was I unconscious, and I can remember everything that happened since I hit my head,” Edie added.
“How hard did you hit?”
“I heard it,” Skye said and she sounded just a little bit sick. “She hit a brick wall and I heard it.”
The nurse glanced quickly at Skye, then returned his gaze to Edie. “Any nausea or vomiting?”
“Some nausea,” Edie said.
Skye looked like she was going to break something.
“I’m fine,” Edie said quietly.
“Yeah,” said Nurse Brian. “Actually, I get to be the one who decides that. So, you,” he said to Skye, “need to get back to the treatment area from whence you came, and you need to come with me so I can put you in the system and get you on the list for CT.”
Skye crossed her arms over her chest. Edie took note of the hospital bracelet around her right wrist. “I go where she goes.”
Nurse Brian rolled his eyes. “Great. That’s super sweet. I’m so glad you guys are going to make this easy on me.” He looked up at Sasha, who had been standing very still. “What about you? What are we treating you for today?”
Sasha merely shook his head at the nurse, seemingly incapable of speech.
“Sash, why don’t you go check on JC and Faina and come back with an update,” Skye said.
“Yeah, okay.” Sasha took off down the hall.
Edie and Skye followed Nurse Brian back to Skye’s vacated treatment area. He grabbed a tablet from the nurse’s desk on the way.
“Both of you sit. I don’t care where. We’ll start with head injury’s history.”
Edie sat on the chair by the bed and gave her history. The nurse took her pulse and blood pressure and checked her temperature, and then he very gently and confidently palpated the small knot at the back of Edie’s skull. Skye, sitting stiffly on the gurney, could not quite hide her worry behind her security mask. Edie took heart at this. It made her headache and her worry ease up just a little.
“Okay, you’re on the list for CT,” the nurse said as he expertly wrapped a hospital bracelet around Edie’s wrist. “It’s just a precaution, given your history. It will be a couple of hours, so get comfortable. And no, you don’t get a choice.”
Edie sighed and nodded.
“Great. First intelligent thing you’ve said so far.” He turned to Skye. “Now you. You’re waiting to get stitched up. Pretty sure that means sit here and don’t
move. Have I been clear?”
“Crystal,” Skye responded.
“Roger that, Commander,” Edie said.
With another eloquent and well-practiced eye roll, Nurse Brian swept out of the curtained treatment area.
Edie craved Skye’s closeness and wished she could ease the look of worry Skye couldn’t hide. Wished they were anywhere other than this hospital waiting for a CT scan and stitches.
Edie watched Skye scan the small treatment area, assessing the staff and patients in the hallway before landing on Edie and starting the sweep all over again.
“JC and Faina? What happened?” Edie said.
“They’re both okay. Getting checked out. We can’t talk here. Debrief later.”
Fierceness and deadness, such an odd combination, Edie decided. Skye was so clearly angry, still on alert. Nearly hypervigilant.
“Skye,” Edie said quietly.
Skye didn’t answer, just kept scanning.
“I’m okay, you know.”
Edie could almost hear Skye’s teeth clash together as she clenched her jaw. So much anger. But where was it directed?
“Are you angry I wouldn’t answer my phone?”
Skye’s eyes were stormy, all turbulence and upset. “No.”
“Why are you so angry?”
Skye shook her head. “Not at you. I was impressed,” she said, almost reluctantly. “It was a smart decision not to trust who was on the other end. You’ve got good instincts.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the physician’s assistant, a woman with dark hair and a disinterested expression. She wheeled a cart into the treatment area, set up, and began unwrapping Skye’s bandage in a manner that rode the line between efficient and careless.
Edie got out of her chair and stood by Skye’s shoulder. Skye only glanced up briefly, then looked down at where the PA was exposing the injury. Edie looked closely at the cut on the outside of Skye’s lower bicep. The slice was clean, less than an inch long, and lightly crusted with blood.
“It’s frozen already?” the PA said, prodding it with her finger. That didn’t quite seem professional to Edie.
“Yes,” Skye said, looking down at the cut.
The PA grunted. “Should only take a few stitches, it’s not very big.”
She sounded disgruntled, as if Skye had failed to make her night more interesting. Edie’s dislike for the woman increased exponentially and she tensed, ready to say something.
“It’s fine,” Skye said. “Leave it.”
Edie growled quietly, and Skye seemed to be holding back a grin. She twitched on the gurney.
“Stop moving, please.”
Edie shot Skye an apologetic look, and Skye’s dark eyes danced with laughter and confusion. Edie wanted to reassure Skye, maybe make her laugh again. Instead, she took the time to examine Skye’s tattoo, the cap sleeve that disappeared into her T-shirt tucked over her shoulder. Its eight black bands circled her arm, spaced half an inch apart. Woven between the bands was a red and gold dragon, its tail and wings and neck twisting around on itself in a knot of scales and wings and claws. The colours were incredibly vibrant.
Skye seemed to track Edie’s gaze and she looked down briefly at her arm, just above where the PA was making short work of the stitches.
“I got it when I left the army,” Skye said.
“Eight bands for eight years?”
Skye nodded.
“And the dragon?”
“Story for another time.”
A young man in navy blue scrubs opened the curtain and looked in.
“Edith Black?” When Edie nodded, he stepped in closer, took a look at the hospital bracelet, and checked his tablet. “Come with me, I’ll take you down to CT.”
Skye tried to sit up.
“Don’t move, please,” the PA said, never taking her eyes off Skye’s arm.
“Are you almost done?”
The PA didn’t answer. Then she efficiently snipped the dark, stiff thread, slapped the bandage back on Skye’s arm, and carted herself out.
Edie shook her head. Those stitches had better be good.
“It’s fine, let’s go,” Skye said, tugging down her shirt and standing up.
They followed the man in blue scrubs down multiple hallways. Each step brought an increasing sense of dread that Edie tried very hard to ignore. But the anxiety gained on her as they entered the Radiology section. I’ve been in a CT scanner lots of times before. She wasn’t claustrophobic. It had never really bothered her before. In fact, it was mostly boring trying to lie still and hold your breath at the right moments. So why this time?
Edie went through the procedure in her head. Hospital gown, injection of contrast dye which made her slightly nauseous, enter scanner room, lie on bed, disappear into machine, close eyes, listen to instructions, hold breath, hear clicking and whirring, hold still, lights flashing…
Edie’s stomach dropped. Flashing lights.
“I don’t think I can do this,” Edie said, but her faint words were lost in the sudden flurry of activity and instruction. The man in blue scrubs stopped in front of a curtained change area, handed Edie two gowns as he reeled off instructions about how to put them on, asked about jewelry on her body, then closed the curtain between them.
Edie removed her clothes, listening to the discussion between the tech and Skye about where she could wait. The two were negotiating terms, and Skye was winning. Dropping JC’s name and rank into the conversation seemed to help. When Edie was double-gowned, she pulled the curtain aside, her bare legs cold but not the cause of the shivers in her body.
She didn’t say anything, just followed the tech to the next room where he went through his pre-checklist questionnaire: dentures, pregnancy, surgical staples, piercings, implants. Another man in blue scrubs waited with the contrast dye already pulled up into a syringe. Maybe it was better this was moving so fast, Edie thought, as she closed her eyes and felt the sting of the injection. It would be over faster.
Instructions and movements and Edie was somehow already on the narrow black bed with the thin, plastic covered mattress. She tried to take a deep breath to decrease the shivering.
“Are you cold?” one of the techs said. “You can’t move during the scan.”
“Yes.” Edie gave the easiest, though not most truthful, answer.
She heard the tech leave the room and stared straight up at the ceiling, counting the tiles and vents until she felt a welcome, warm weight covering her. The heated blanket decreased the shivering a little, but as soon as the tech continued with his instructions, the shaking returned. Edie knew she’d lost control. She couldn’t calm her nervous system.
“This isn’t going to work,” she heard the tech say.
Edie felt a moment of shame, and she kept staring up at the ceiling, her thoughts rapidly spiraling as she began counting her faults instead of tiles.
“Get another blanket and give us a minute.”
Skye’s voice. Edie closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure she had ever felt this exposed.
She could feel Skye standing by the edge of the bed. Edie continued to breathe, her body shaking with uncontrolled irregularity under the rapidly cooling hospital blanket.
“Do you want the princess story or the tattoo story?”
Edie opened her eyes. Skye was looking expectantly down at her.
“Both?”
Skye’s expression of amusement was enough for Edie. Her body started to calm.
“Nice try, Ms. Black. Choose one and I’ll tell it to you over the intercom while you’re getting your scan. Interrupted by instructions from the techs, of course.”
Edie considered her options. “Will you tell me both eventually, or is this my one and only chance?”
Skye’s eyes darkened. “I think you know the answer to that already.” Her voice was just at the edge of rough, and the warmth that spread through Edie’s body had nothing to do with the heated hospital blanket.
“Then I’d like the princess
story now. And the tattoo story later.”
The tech came back into the room carrying another blanket, which he spread over Edie. “How are you doing?” he said, sounding more concerned with the schedule than Edie.
“I’m good,” Edie said and smiled at Skye. “I’m ready.”
The tech gave the last few instructions, and he and Skye disappeared back behind the glassed-in wall. Edie closed her eyes, warmed by the blankets. She listened to the tech’s instructions as the machine slowly drew her inside. When the nausea made small ripples through her stomach, she breathed through it, knowing it likely wouldn’t get much worse. She’d actually never felt this okay getting a CT scan. Her body had always been more battered, her concussion always worse.
“Can you hear me?” Skye’s tinny voice through the speakers.
“Yes,” Edie said faintly, keeping her eyes closed and focusing on not moving.
“Okay, so, about six months after I moved back to Ottawa from the UAE, Bart asked me to be part of the security detail for a visiting princess from Dubai and her entourage. We spent a lot of time at tiny boutiques while she shopped and exclusive clubs while she partied.”
Edie thought Skye sounded a little nervous. She imagined it wasn’t easy for the deeply introverted Skye to tell complete strangers a story about her life. In that moment, refusing to shy away from the feeling, Edie loved her for it.
“Anyway, Bart was coordinating security with the RCMP, and I was just following orders and keeping an eye on the somewhat flighty princess as she complained about the boring Ottawa night life. One night I’m leading the perimeter team on a gala event at a downtown hotel, and I see a guy I recognize from the UAE.
“I knew damn well he was on American and Canadian hit lists for political espionage, ferrying information between the UAE and the rest of Europe. I see this guy meet up with the head of the princess’s security outside the hotel, and I immediately alert Bart, who immediately alerts the RCMP. Who, for whatever bureaucratic reason, doesn’t have a clue what to do with this info.
“Since I’m the only one with eyes on him, I end up coordinating what amounts to an international takedown outside this gala event. All while maintaining security on the princess and without creating a scene that would draw international attention. At least the RCMP took on the job of telling the princess her head of security was now in custody.”
Repercussions Page 15
