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“Is he going to make it?” Bright asked of the army surgeon who appeared as he was about to follow the bed bearing Luke down the corridor.
He had been waiting for news since Luke was taken in into the operating theatre, and the sight of his friend, still breathing after more than eight hours of surgery, was a relief, though he craved reassurance from someone with medical training.
He remained unsure that following his friend’s instructions and taking him to the army base for surgery, instead of diverting to one of the hospitals in Barcelona, was the right thing for him to have done. He wouldn’t be sure until he heard that Luke was going to be alright.
Several times during the long boat ride to shore he had been tempted to call for a rescue chopper. Why he didn’t, he couldn’t say, except that it was what Luke wanted. Not that his concerns had been lessened by that thought.
“Your friend seems to be a very tough individual. He survived the journey here, despite the blood loss, and he made it through surgery without any complications. I’d say he has a good chance of recovering, perhaps as high as sixty percent. The odds would of course be higher if he had made it into surgery sooner.”
“Thank you.” Bright sank tiredly against the wall. He was relieved to hear that the odds of his friend making it were over fifty percent. That was higher than he had expected. “When will I be able to see him?”
“He’ll be in recovery for a few hours, and then he’ll be moved to a ward if everything is okay, but when he’ll wake is anyone’s guess. If I were you, I’d get some sleep and check back later. Someone will contact you if anything happens. You’ll excuse me, it’s been a long time since I was woken during the night for an emergency bullet removal.”
Bright remained where he was for a short while after the captain left, allowing his relief to wash over him, and then he pushed himself away from the wall and made his way out of the hospital.
The morning sun left him squinting after the artificial light he had just left but the fresh air was welcome, waking him enough to make necessary phone calls. He completed his calls during the walk to the barracks building that had been assigned to the Noir operation and he put the phone away as he stepped inside.
There wasn’t much to the building: a communal entertainment area with a television, a couple of computers and games consoles, and some tables and chairs, a large sleeping area, a shower area, and several private rooms. Ordinarily the private rooms would have been used by NCOs and officers, but just then they were being used by Sofia Torres and the officers assigned to keep watch over the people ‘killed’ by Luke.
Bright looked around for any of the people brought in during the night but saw none. He figured they were still sleeping off the tranquiliser Luke had shot them with, which didn’t surprise him since it was supposed to last for twelve hours.
“Morning,” Bright said, dropping into a chair at the table where Special Agent Gonzalez, who was in charge of the group at the barracks, was playing cards with two members of his team. “How have things been?”
Gonzalez shrugged. “As good as they can be. Baptiste is still causing problems,” he said with a glance at the Frenchman, who was sitting alone, “but Delcroix is behaving himself, not that he has much choice given his injuries. He’s still over at the hospital under guard. The most he can do is bitch from his bed; he’s done a bit of that apparently, but for the most part he’s been pretty accepting of his situation. I guess he understands there’s nothing he can do but accept things.”
“What sort of problems is Baptiste causing?”
“Nothing major, just general bitching. He’s not happy about being here. He doesn’t like the food. There isn’t enough for him to do. He doesn’t like not being able to contact anyone. Blah, blah, blah. He gets whatever meals he wants from the kitchens, and he spends most of the day on one of the consoles, that helps to keep the complaints to a minimum. Don’t worry, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Are you ready to deal with the new arrivals when they wake up?”
“Yes. The first of them should be up in the next couple of hours. With a bit of luck they’ll wake up one at a time, so we can deal with them individually. It’ll be easier than dealing with them in a group.”
“Good. At least there shouldn’t be anything else for you to worry about after today. You’ll have no-one else coming to join you, last night’s op was the final one, so all you’ve got to do now is keep everyone happy until we get Noir to trial. If Baptise causes you too much trouble, tell him if he doesn’t like it here, he can always be relocated to solitary confinement in the stockade. I’m sure he’ll like it there a whole lot less.”
Gonzalez grinned at the thought of that. “I’ll be sure to tell him. Are we actually able to put him in solitary confinement?” he asked.
“I’m sure it can be arranged if necessary. Do you need anything before I get going?”
“No, I think we have everything we need for the time being. If I think of anything, I’ll let you know.”
“Okay.”
**
“ARE YOU AT THE STATION yet?” Bright asked when Marie answered his call.
“Almost. I should be there pretty soon. What’s up?” Marie asked. “I hope you’ve got something for the team to do today, we’ve all been pretty bored the last few days.”
Since Roland Baptiste had been ‘killed’ in his cell, the Interpol team had been stood down from the Noir investigation while an internal review was conducted to determine if any of the team was responsible for passing information to Philippe Noir and his organisation.
“There is something for the team to do, but I’m not sure you should be glad your boredom is over,” Bright told her sombrely. “I’m sorry to say that Sofia Torres was killed during the night.”
“What! Are you sure?” Marie asked. She knew Philippe Noir had hired a professional to take care of his problems, but she still found it hard to believe that someone had managed to reach the yacht and get past the officers on board to kill Sofia Torres.
“Very sure. There’s no way she’s going to be able to testify against Noir, which I’m sure will make him very happy when he hears about it, since it means he’s going to walk free.” Bright had worried that Marie might see through his lies, but it was clear that she believed him, which was a relief. “I’d prefer it, and I know Inspector Alvarez feels the same, if Noir doesn’t find out that Sofia has been killed. I’m sure he’ll find out soon enough, whatever steps are taken to keep the news from him, but the longer we can keep him from finding out the better.”
“Surely whoever Noir hired to take care of Sofia will get the message to him, if he hasn’t already. And the moment he knows she’s no longer around to testify against him, Boucher will get the extradition request dismissed.”
That was what Luke’s plan called for, but Bright wasn’t sure how the plan was going to be affected by his hospitalisation.
“I don’t think there’s any way we can prevent Noir finding out what’s happened. It’s just a question of how long it takes for the information to get to him,” Marie said.
“The longer it takes,” Bright said, “the better for us, since we now have to hope that some physical evidence is found to link Noir to the Abrantes massacre, which is looking less and less likely. Either that or we need to find someone new to testify against him, which is where our team comes in. Inspector Alvarez and his task force believe the assassin, whom they have yet to identify, was injured during his assault on the yacht last night.”
“Do they have a good reason for thinking that?” Marie asked. She had seen many officers latch onto an idea simply because it gave them hope, and something to do, and in the process they wasted time and resources.
“Good enough. From what I’ve been told there’s a trail of blood leading through the yacht to the cabin where Sofia Torres was shot, and then back up to the deck and the railing. It doesn’t match the position of anyone on the yacht, so the assumption is it was made by Noir’s hitman.”
“Sounds reasonable. Is there any indication of how he got on and off the boat? He should have been spotted long before he was in a position to get on board.”
“If he has an answer to that, Alvarez hasn’t told me.”
“Okay, so, what is it he wants us to do?”
He’d like our team to make the rounds of the hospitals, medical clinics, and even the vet surgeries, to see if anyone has come in requiring treatment for gunshot wounds since midnight. I don’t imagine he expects us to get a result any more than I do, but we can’t ignore the possibility, even if it is more likely that Noir’s assassin will have sought treatment from someone who’s off the grid, assuming his injuries are serious enough to require treatment.”
“I’ll work up a list of locations to send the team to just as soon as I get to the station. I’ll try and come up with some alternatives to the usual locations as well. I’m sure someone at the station will know where the local criminals go to get fixed up. Are we doing this with Alvarez’s task force or are we on our own? I don’t want to have to worry about us doubling up on the work.”
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Bright assured her. “Alvarez has his team doing other things. I’ll get to the station as soon as I can, but I have a few things to take care of first, so it might be a while. Once I get there, I’ll help you coordinate the team.” He ended the call then and settled back, his eyes closed, to doze through the rest of the drive to Barcelona. He was glad Gonzalez had been able to spare someone to drive him so he could doze, he wasn’t sure he'd have managed to stay awake if he had had to drive himself.