Chapter Ten

While he drove, McCall was mulling over whether to tell Garcia what Barbara had said about Carlos Costa being in Miami. He decided to wait. After all, there were advantages if he did not tell Garcia right away, he reasoned. Barbara might have important details she had not yet revealed. Plus, if Costa were alerted too early, he could get away before they had the evidence to arrest him. Without evidence, it would be Costa's word against Barbara's: Costa could simply deny that he was the terrorist Barbara claimed he was. If waiting meant making sure Costa was caught, there was still time; the conference did not start until Wednesday, and today was Monday.

Once he had made the decision, his mind drifted back to the position Barbara had put them in. Damn, McCall swore to himself, she had drawn them right back into the life they both had wanted to put behind them, a life of the FBI and the BND and terrorism. She had promised him, well, he admitted, she'd TOLD him, she would stop involving herself in these deadly games. Another of her surprises, he reminded himself. One of the reasons he'd fallen in love with her was that she surprised him time and again. However, there were certainly disadvantages to loving an enigma, he acknowledged to himself, shaking his head.

While McCall was examining the nature of love, Barbara was lying in the ER thinking along the same lines, not about the nature of love, but about not getting involved anymore. Shit, she thought, she didn't want to be lying in a hospital with a bullet in her back. Six months ago they had finally removed the bullet from Afghanistan, and here she was again.

Of course she recognized that only she was responsible for her being in the hospital this time. She could have left Costa alone; she could have left her old life alone. She had retired from the Agency; she decided to stop working with the Red Line. Why didn't she simply move on with her life? You can be such a fool, she told herself.

Being who she was, though, she still wanted Costa. In fact, she wanted him more than ever because she had come so close. Unfortunately, it wasn't likely she could get him from a hospital bed, she conceded.

It was the damned Stasi man, the one they called Frenzel, who had ruined her plan, she thought. Unfortunately, once she had allowed the man back into her mind, he flooded her consciousness with images she had tried very hard to forget. She saw the room, the one where they'd hurt her, and there he was, watching. Frenzel had never touched her; he had only watched. Perhaps he had given the orders, she didn't know. What she did know was that he had watched every rape, every beating, every despicable act.

Was he more important to her than Costa? What would she have done if she'd seen him before she went after Costa, she asked herself? Of one thing she was sure: She was very glad he was dead and very glad that Robert had done the killing.

Barbara was drifting along on the pain meds and memories, paying little attention to her treatment, until pain rudely returned her to the present as a technician repositioned her for x-rays. The pain meds dulled the edge, but she wished that they'd just let her lie still. Maybe she could just drift off once more, she hoped.

But no, after they finished the x-rays, they continued to poke and prod her. Opening her eyes, she realized that Robert was talking to the ER doctor at the entrance to her cubicle. As happy as she was to see Robert, she also wished the doctor would talk to HER.

The doctor left, and Robert came to her bedside, took her hand, and asked: "I just got here. How are you?"

"Um, it hurts, not too bad. What did he say?" she asked.

"Not much. Didn't want to say anything until the x-rays are in. You know what doctors are like." That was an understatement. She nodded. McCall found a chair, and they waited.

Eventually the x-rays were developed and the doctor did come, bringing the films with him. McCall stood to talk to the doctor.

"Hello, Mrs. McCall," he started. "I'm Dr. Ramirez."

To spare her the effort, McCall said: "Doctor, my wife's name is Dr. Williams."

Ramirez smiled faintly, nodded, and said: "Dr. Williams, all indications are that the bullet missed any vital organs. You can see it right here." He pointed to a place on the film. Barbara thought maybe she could see it, but she was pretty woozy.

"However, it did take a chip off the bone right here." He pointed to another very small, white, fuzzy thing. "What we'll do is take the bullet out and get rid of that chip. It shouldn't be a long or complicated operation. Not like the one you had over here." He pointed to the evidence of her earlier operation.

"Good." That was all she could get out.

"All right. We will do it soon. You can wait here, Mr. McCall, until we have to prep her for surgery."

"Thank you, doctor," McCall said. After Ramirez had left them alone, McCall sat down again.

"You know, Barbara, this is getting tiresome, sitting at your bedside," he said half in jest.

"I'm sorry, Robert," Barbara said softly. "For leaving. For this."

He touched her cheek, then took her hand, and they sat quietly for a few minutes.

"I was following you all day…. You never noticed. Bad form, my dear, bad form."

When he had stepped into the elevator with her and Frenzel, Barbara had assumed as much. She didn't know how she could have missed him. Maybe now they were even, after she'd shadowed him for days back in Vienna without his making her. "Stupid," she agreed. "But you didn't make the German?"

"No. Who is he? Or do you want to wait? Garcia will want to know the whole story as soon as possible, though."

She closed her eyes, uncertain if she could talk long enough to tell Robert about the German.

"That man, he watched, always, in the room, you know, the room…." She groped for words.

"Yes, I understand." She had told him about her experiences in the East German prison.

"Maybe he told them what to do. They looked at him…. He was the only one always there. It was…awful, he…saw everything but…he…." She didn't know how to describe how much she despised that man, even now that he was dead.

"It's all right, Barbara, I think I understand."

"But how…he got from Bautzen to…? I don't know."

"I trust the BND is going to be searching through their records very soon. They're not going to want this to get out," he said, shaking his head at their stupidity.

"Hum," an exhausted Barbara replied.

"Dr. Williams," a nurse said, "we have to prep you for surgery now. You'll have to leave, Mr. McCall."

"Yes, of course. I'll be right outside in the waiting area, Barbara." He bent down and kissed her lightly on the lips.

"Thank you, Robert," Barbara mumbled, grateful beyond words that she had found this man.