Chapter Forty-Nine

H OLT AND NATE walked into the hospital room and saw an older man sitting upright in the bed. His eyes were open and he was alert. Though, judging by his tiny pupils, he'd also been pumping the morphine.

"Oh," the man said. "I was wondering when you'd come."

Holt looked to Nate, who shrugged.

"Not your usual doctors, I'm afraid," Nate said, putting his hand on the door to close it. He didn't want to disclose his actual identity until they had a bit of privacy. But before he could, the old man interrupted him.

"Not doctors at all," the old man snapped, pulling a gun from the blanket covering his legs.

Holt smiled. "I like this guy."

"How—" Nate started, then stopped. "The boots."

The old man nodded.

Nate shook his head. They hadn't had the time, or the means, to get appropriate doctor footwear, so they'd kept their combat boots on.

Nate shut the door.

"I'd prefer that open," the old man said.

"Easy, Mr. Goldman," Nate said, hands out. "We're on your side. We were supposed to meet you yesterday, but—"

"Things got a little confusing," Goldman said. He lowered the gun. Nate couldn't help but notice, though, that Joseph didn't take his hand off the piece.

"They did. But Brittany met with us, and told us to get you out of here. You're not safe here."

"And Dulce?"

"There's another team on her retrieval right now. For safety, we won't meet up until DC."

"You're moving me to DC?"

"Apparently you're needed there."

"Robert can't handle a single day without me?" Joseph said softly.

"Robert?" Nate asked.

"Our librarian. You'll meet him. He's a bit of a, well, he needs some hand-holding."

Holt was over by the window, scanning the surroundings. Vigilant.

"That's not the story we were told," Nate said. "Brittany mentioned there's a bureaucratic challenge for you."

"Well shit," Joseph said, whipping the blankets off. Joseph was fully dressed under the blankets. He ripped off the gown and tossed it to the side, following it up by yanking out the IV line in his wrist. He winced for a second, then took a step. Wobbly, he started to fall.

Nate jumped in, grabbed the old man by the shoulder, and hoisted Joseph back to his feet. The old man felt, well, old. Small. Feeble. Nate fervently hoped he'd never experience that.

"You okay, sir?" Nate asked.

Joseph swatted the man's hand away. He stood up straight on his own, then brushed off the rumpled suit.

"I'm fine," Joseph said. "Let's get out of here."

Joseph marched past the two operators and out into the hallway.

Holt smiled, shook his head, and followed.

Nate grabbed the charts from the clipboard by the bed, ripped the papers off, and shoved them into his scrub pockets. Leave no trace behind .