I sank down, resting my head on the floor. “Francis Baker. Call T&M security, tell ‘em I’m still alive.”
She was still talking but I couldn’t hear what she was saying as everything faded out…
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
This time the pain was only a ghost when I opened my eyes. The hospital bed felt a lot better than the floor I’d been on when I passed out. On my left Tony was curled up in a chair, quietly snoring. For a time I just lay there, soaking in the fact I was alive. And not in screaming pain. A stray thought surfaced, causing me to groan as I twitched. Tony was alive!
“You all right?” Tony’s face appeared next to me, concern showing on his face.
“Yeah, I am now. Willie told me all of you’d been killed in a fire.”
He sat back down. “No, that was the old place. The bad guys must’ve thought we were still there.”
I looked around the room. “What time is it?”
“After midnight. Everyone else was here when they operated on you.”
I hesitated, taking mental stock of how I felt. “What’d they operate on? I remember the fingers and toes on my foot were probably damaged pretty good. Oh, and some cuts on my shoulder.”
“You had ligament damage and lost a lot of blood from the shoulder, so they worked on that the most. Asshole cut a little too deeply. Nicked an artery, apparently. Oh, and the doctor said when you woke up to tell you not to move around too much. They got your foot strapped down, but he said even with all the painkillers they pumped in you, it might get pretty uncomfortable. Seemed more concerned about pain from the foot than the hand or shoulder.”
I glanced at my well-wrapped right hand. “I can truthfully say having a toe smashed is much more painful than messing with your shoulder or fingers.”
He gave a shudder and stood. “I’ll go tell the nurse you’re back with us. Then I’ll get out of your hair. The whole gang’ll be here in the morning, so save up a little energy for ‘em.” He laid a hand on my chest. “Glad your safe, man. See you in the morning.”
Once he’d gone, I took stock of how I felt. Physically, the drugs were holding the pain to a whisper. They also helped with the mental end, too. Felt like I was floating in a sea of calm. Nice. I snuggled down and let sleep come.
A hand touched my uninjured shoulder. “Mister Baker?” A pleasant male voice—where’d I hear that voice before?
I roused from deep slumber, eyes taking a moment to focus on the dim figure above me. “Yeah. Time for a pill or something?”
A light came on, showing what looked like a doctor in hospital greens standing by my bed. “No, but I was hoping you would be up for a conversation. My real name is of no consequence, but you can call me by my American name of Jimmy.”
A rush of understanding passed through me. The man by the fountain at the mall, later at the restaurant. And most importantly—“That was you,” I whispered. “You were watching when I was being tortured.”
He nodded, no expression on his face. “Correct. We were also interested in the missing money, the money our country was to receive for the counterfeit bills. It was good to have someone else do the torture for us. I personally do not enjoy it.”
My right foot began throbbing as I choked down my fear. “So now what?”
“Since the money is out of reach, my partner and I have failed in our overall mission. Yes we destroyed the evidence, and killed those who broke their word to us. But our Leader will not accept the fact we did not recover the funds that were to be paid us. Do you know a government official you trust?”
The sudden question threw me. “Trust? Um, yes, I think I do. Why?”
“We wish to claim political asylum in your country. There are things that may be happening soon that your officials would be most interested in. All we wish is to be allowed to settle in the United States.”
I raised my good hand. “Wait. You said the evidence was destroyed?”
He gave a short nod. “We booby trapped the counterfeit money with several thermite grenades. It was in another room beyond where you were tortured. When the police opened the door, it set off the thermite.” He shrugged with the hint of a smile. “One officer received minor burns, but no one else was hurt.”
After he’d left, I tried to settle down, to no avail. Well, crap. Now I’d probably be involved a little longer than I’d hoped in this mess. I carefully rolled over and opened the drawer on the end table. Tony’d made sure my valuables had been placed there before leaving. I managed to latch onto my phone. Now to see if I still had the right phone number stored in it…Ah. There it was.
After a couple abortive tries, I finally punched in the correct number. “Hello, Al? Sorry to call so late, or early, whatever time it is. Something’s come up…”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I got off the elevator at the ICU floor, spotting Mike patiently sitting in the waiting area. I stumped over, not leaning quite so heavy on the cane like I had last week. “Hey, Mike. Sorry I couldn’t make it sooner.”
He stood, shaking my left hand while helping me get seated. “Not much you could’ve done, Francis. Lenny made it through the operation, but her chances are still slim. The doctor said it was a miracle she made it this far.”
I eased my right foot out in front of me. “So what’s the latest prognosis?”
“If she wakes up, there’s a chance of recovery. But there’s been no change for the past twenty-four hours.”
I shook
