Hey guys!
This was an idea that suddenly popped into my head. Quick to jot it down, I came up with this story. I was going to edit it, but I have been awake for over 24 hours and am in desperate need of sleep. Any spelling or grammar mistakes are due to the lack of sleep I am experiencing at the moment.
I hope you enjoy this chapter! It took about an hour to think and type it up! Hopefully it won't have too many errors as a result.
Please R&R!
- Little Dhamphir.
Yassen recounted the days' events and wondered how his latest job had gone so wrong. Of course, everything that had happened was beyond Yassen's control, but still, he had a big mess to clean up. Unfortunately, a few of his employees would have to be shot for the very serious mistakes they made. Yassen was furious about it all as he sat at his desk and made an attempt at damage control.
Yassen had his own organization formed a few months ago. Only a select few knew about the small terrorist group and those who did know, even fewer knew that Yassen was indeed still alive. Yassen preferred to keep it that way. He wasn't sure if Scorpia would try to rise one more time. Yassen was still trying to avoid them.
Absentmindedly, Yassen rubbed his chest where the bullet wound scar tissue resided. The bullet had certainly almost killed him - and for a moment it did. Somehow though, the paramedics brought him back to life long enough to have him rushed to a hospital nearby. Immediately, Yassen underwent surgery. It was there (in the operating room) that he flat lined twice more during the twelve hour surgery.
It was this thought that triggered a rather long flashback as he recounted the events that happened shortly before after he was pronounced stable by the American doctor who worked in the hospital at the time and the nurses who completed their patient rounds on the post-op floor of the hospital. Then again, he never did recover on the post-op floor to begin with...
When the trauma surgeon completed the final stitch on Yassen's chest, MI6 had sent two SAS teams to retrieve and transport the assassin who was still in critical condition. The military immediatly had the assassin flown to a nearby British military hospital that was close to the hospital where Yassen underwent his surgery. MI6 needed to question the assassin (more like interrogate) first whilst the chained man healed in the patient bed. Strangely, MI6 never once saw him after he arrived at the military hospital. Yassen figured it was because the British Secret Intelligence did not see him as high a threat as he once was.
Clever as Yassen was, he was able to predict the hospitals daily routine within the first three days of his stay there. On the third day, Yassen overheard two nurses talking. Once of the nurses talked animatedly as she excitingly told her fellow workmate about her first work shift here before she made her rounds to take care of the patients she was assigned that shift.
As she entered Yassen's room, she strode over to the bed and raised it into a sitting position for the assassin. Yassen then took this moment to voice his complaint when the nurse had asked him where he was hurting at. Yassen told her how the wrist cuff was put on to tight and how he couldn't feel the tips of his fingers very well. The nurse bit her bottom lip and debated what to do. Ethically, she was bound to help any patient with what ever problems they had under her nursing license. However, Yassen's file did state that he she needed to stay cautious around him at all time. Yassen was a dangerous man who was in serious trouble with the law. Not knowing just how dangerous he was, she uncuffed one of his hands to allow for a more adequate blood flow in his wrists. She thought that if she recuffed him, it would help relieve the numb feeling once the cuff was a little less tight.
The next thing the nurse knew was that his hand was on her neck. Using his thumb, he pierced the nail through her skin and shoved his thumb inside her neck - slicing the carotid artery in the process. Blood gushed out of the poor nurse's neck. She would have screamed had she not been choked as he pulled the woman closer to the bed.
A strong wave of pain erupted in Yassen's chest. If it wasn't for the desperate situation he faced, he would have let go of her for the blinding white pain he felt. Time was of the essence though and he knew this would be his only chance to escape. How he managed to keep a hold onto the struggling nurse (only with one hand mind you) was a mystery even to him.
Soon the nurse ceased her futile struggles. Even though the assassin was still in critical condition, he still was strong enough to kill as the dead nurse slumped forward onto his bed. He knew time was even more of the essence as he searched through her hair. He found was he was looking for when he pulled two bobby clips out of the dead woman's hair. Quickly, he went to work unlocking his other wrist cuff. It seemed to take forever as Yassen worked with the bobby pin in an attempt to open the lock. He was successful in the end.
Once his other hand was free, he sat forward on his bed and worked to unlock the ankle cuffs. Within a minute or two, he was a free man once more. Well... He was as free as a man could get when faced in the same situation he was currently facing. He stood up slowly and stepped onto the the cold hospital floor as he began to think of his escape plan while pulling the multiple wires and needles out of his body.
He made sure to turn the machines off before he got out of the bed. It wouldn't do to well to have them sound out their alarms. He just prayed that the vital machines did not relay his vitals to the nurse's desk like some high tech hospitals now had.
Glancing around the room, Yassen saw the sharps container on the wall. Luck was on his side - the container was not locked back into the wall. Slowly a rudimentary plan fell into placed. Silently, he lifted the box out of its protected shelf and tipped it over. Multiple syringes fell out of it. Bending down, he picked up a few and sat them on a nearby table. Those would be used as his weapons for the moment.
He knew that once someone found that he had escaped, there would be a man hunt for the missing patient. With the keyword being PATIENT. Slowly, he bent down and picked up the nurse's black scrub top and pulled it off of her. He proceeded to put it on him. As luck you'll have it, the top was unisex and fit him fairly well. Then he pulled the scrub bottoms off her and put them on as well. He was rather shocked that she was the same height as him. This was a good thing for her shoes would probably fit him too. They somewhat did, but they were still tight on his foot.
The clothing change took maybe three minutes to complete. Yassen knew that five or more minutes had passed already as he picked up the seven syringes and deposited them in one of the many scrub pockets. Afterwards, he dragged her dead body into the adjoining bathroom that accompanied his small room. He hoped this would provide him a few extra seconds if the hospital staff assumed he went somewhere for diagnostic imaging. Then he thought to grab the three remaining used syringes off the floor.
'Might as well bring them all with you.' he thought in Russian. He put the empty biohazard sharps container back up in its original place. His reasoning was that people would think then that he was unharmed as he escaped the military hospital.
His chest throbbed with constant pain from all the exertion it was put through in the last ten or so minutes. Yassen simply ignored it as best as he could. Soon, the adrenalin would kick back in to alleviate the pain some if he needed to fight once more.
He strolled out into the hallway and walked towards the stairs. The nurses badge was clipped to the collar or his chest. He thought he would need it at some point and prayed that no one looked to closely at the picture on the badge.
Yassen passed a security desk on his way to the stairs. Turning his head slightly to the side, he peered into a nearby patients room - making it look like he was peering into the patient's room to check on them. This must have been normal behavior for the guards did not take notice of him as he pushed open the door nd made his way down the stairs that was marked for employee use only. Yassen did not notice the sign though.
It was then he realized that luck was once again on his side as he walked down the first flight of steps and came across a sign that said: Main Floor. He crossed the small landing and made a attempt to open the door. It was locked!
Silently, Yassen fumed to himself as he thought of what to do next. Then he remembered the nurses badge. He used it to open the door by swiping it in the card reader. Now he was able to open the door once he heard the door click, signaling that it had unlocked itself.
briefly, Yassen wondered if the medications he was on was clouding his ability to think of rapid decisions for it should not have taken half a minute or so to remember he had the nurse's badge clipped to the stolen scrub uniform. He should have thought to use the card sooner and wastedprecious seconds as a result. He decided he would scold himself later. Now was the time to be finding the hospitals main entrance.
As the door opened, he peered into the main lobby as he stepped out into it. Yassen was surprised to find only two military policemen at the front desk as he glanced around the room. It was his quick observations that he saw two doctors nearby make their way towards the entrance doors. They were heading out the front door. Yassen walked with a slow, but quick pace. He looked at his wrist and picked up his pace just a tad bit more.
One of the guards noticed Yassen as he glanced at his wrist. He then saw the male nurse pick up his speed just a little more. The guard determined that it was just another hospital employee who was in a hurry to get home as he observed Yassen leave the hospital with the other two doctors. The guard sighed to himself as he returned to his sudoku game on the computer screen in front of him. Nothing ever happened in the lobby of the military hospital that was secretly hidden in England.
Never did the guard think that a serial killer would be able to leave the hospital. How could the killer leave the hospital anyways, he was under floor surveillance by the hospital staff. The hospital would have used security cameras to monitor the building, had there not been secret agents that recuperated here from time to time. The British government did not want the cameras to be tapped by terrorists.
If any visitors came to the hospital, they would have to be patted down before they could proceed to the public elevator. The stairs nearby were locked. Only hospital employees could use them. So, logically speaking, there was no way for the assassin to be able to reach the lobby except by elevator. All the windows to the hospital were unbreakable and could not be opened.
Even then, the assassin was literally chained to the bed on the second floor. The hospital only had three floors and it was the second floor that had at least three guards present on it at all times. It was this simple layout that prevented any prisoners from escaping while allowing the wounded soldiers/secret service men to heal in peace. How very wrong the guard was. They should have seen the blatant flaws in the hospitals design.
Yassen took in a quick look at his surroundings. He saw that he was in a small city somewhere in England. He hailed a nearby taxi with a wave of his hand. He wasn't concerned about money, not when he could kill the cab driver with his bare hands.
The taxi pulled up and stopped next to the male nurse.
"where would you like me to take you sir?" the cabbie asked.
"The nearest train station please. My wallet was stolen this morning and was told that it had been found there. I can pay you after we arrive there." the male nurse replied with a flawless British accent.
The cabbie hesitated for a moment before he replied. The cabbie then did something no cab driver should do when employed through a cab company. He offered the assassin a free ride there - stating that it was on his way home anyways.
Yassen quietly thanked the cab driver as he climbed into the back seat. Once he was buckled in, the cab driver pulled out onto the road. A moment later, a faint siren was heard coming from the hospital itself. Both men ignored it though as the cab driver drove to the train station.
A half hour later, they arrived to the station where both men parted ways at. Yassen strode into the place wearing the cabbie's jacket on top of his scrubs. The cab driver gave the jacket to Yassen in pity when yassen told him that his jacket had been taken as well. Yassen was just glad he didn't have to kill the man in the end. If he did, it would have only caused more problems. It was the man's hospitality that had technically saved his life.
Glancing around, he saw that there was lot of people in the train station. It was late in the afternoon. The sun had more or less set early against the dark clouds that threatened to dump their watery contents onto the earth below them. Yassen strode up behind his target and swiped a man's wallet effortlessly. Then Yassen made his way to the nearest public bathroom so that he could dispose most of the wallets' contents as well as the used syringes. With a passing thought, Yassen was amazed that he had not been stabbed by a needle and potentially contaminated by whatever blood was inside the needles. He thought back to that fateful day when he shot Sharkovsky after playing the game Russian Roulette by his terms. That was the only other night (not counting Malta) that luck was on his side as well.
Ten minutes later, Yassen paid for his train ticket with the stolen man's pounds. Yassen had an apartment in SoHo that no one knew about. It was there that the Russian would exile himself until he was well once more.
When the train pulled out onto the station, Yassen thought about John Rider's son and how the boy could be dealing with the mindblowing story about his father. It would be interesting to see how the boy was psychologically handling the news.
Yassen's thoughts then turned to techniques the contract killer would need to use to avoid being assassinated by the organization that once employeed the blond assassin once the train bagan to pick up speed as it headed towards London.
Scorpia did not believe in giving people second chances when any of their operatives fail a mission they were sent out to complete by the organization itself. Yassen knew this all to well for he had killed three of his coworkers in the last year alone for failing to complete their tasks that Scorpia wanted them to complete. Now the table was turned and Yassen was on the run to avoid being hunted down.
Outside the darkened window, the rain began to fall down in a torrential fashion. Yassen saw a reflection of his own self give a twitch of his own lips - almost as if he was smiling a faint smile. You see, Yassen had fully realized that he was finally free of his own past. Well... as free as one could get knowing that the son of a man you practically idolized was still out there somewhere.