Chapter twenty one
They soon left the city behind them, the buildings and crowds becoming fewer and far between. Ryan assured Christian that he had to keep going north, and he also encouraged him to go as fast as he could as Taylor was getting worse.
Christian didn't know what septic shock was but Ryan was quick to inform him of what the illness was; a fucking nightmare. Jason's blood pressure was falling dangerously low, apparently, and because of this he was at risk of his organs failing. Already they knew his liver was in trouble as well as his kidneys but when Ryan mentioned heart attacks and brain damage, Christian could have cried.
"Jason stay awake," Christian ordered when he noticed the big man going quiet again.
"' am thinkin'," Jason mumbled, leaning his head up against the window.
"No you weren't," Christian snapped at him then, "Keep awake."
"I am," Jason snapped, holding his painful body tightly, "Fuck off."
"Jason," Ryan called, "I heard Gail's voting Democrat."
Christian saw Jason's eyes narrow at that.
"Yeah she and Luke and Reynolds are going to one of the rallies," Ryan continued, "Gail's taking him to a rally."
"Luke votes republican," Jason snarled, "No!"
Christian had to laugh. The man was seriously ill, dying even, but he was so dizzy and confused that it was almost like being in a car with a heavily drunk man, "No...no...sex."
"You're going to withhold sex because she's voting Democrat?" Christian clarified, glad to see Jason was communicating again after falling silent during their chanting songs.
"Yeah," Jason mumbled, "We divorce at election time."
"Really? I'm voting democrat," Christian cooed, "Maybe I should go up for it next time round? President Grey."
"I'll need a raise if you do," Jason mumbled, forcing a smile and looking at Christian then. His eyes were yellow now, his liver in trouble as well as the kidneys, "and I won't vote for you."
"I'm voting for the libertarians," Ryan called.
"That's why you're a virgin," Jason coughed.
"Hey," Ryan mumbled, "Low blow. Maybe I'll vote Democrat with Gail. Last time there was a vote, Mr Grey, Jason slept in the other room because they were bickering so much. When Obama got it again there was no living with them."
"Fucking Obama," Jason growled in disapproval, "Romney shoulda...shoulda-urgh-up!" Jason coughed, being sick again on himself.
He closed his eyes again and shivered violently.
"Jason, stay with me big guy," Christian ordered as he drove, as quickly as possible, through the desert.
He could see in the rearview mirror that Jason was lying down again in the back seats. He'd been sick a few times and was now panting badly.
"Spiders," Jason whined suddenly, lifting a shaking hand and swotting the air in front of him, "Spiders!"
"Jason there's no spiders," Ryan cooed, reaching over to hold his hand.
Jason kicked out as best he could, eyes wild and alive suddenly, "Spider! Get it off!"
"Ryan, take the wheel," Christian said firmly, taking his feet off the pedals and climbing into the back, "Jason?"
"Spider," Jason whined, wriggling about and panicking, "Gail! Gail! Spider! Please get it off!"
"Where?" Christian asked, "I'll get it, okay?"
"I hate spiders," Jason sobbed, whacking his body, "I hate them. I hate them. Help me Gail, get a glass; it's on my chest."
Christian made a blind grab for whatever Jason could see. There was absolutely nothing there but his skin was burning and the tingling was probably what was making him feel like he was crawling with insects.
"Yes," Jason nodded at Christian's enclosed hands, "Keep it away!" he shouted angrily when Christian stood up to throw the 'spider' outside.
Christian came back and knelt down beside Jason.
"All gone," Christian promised.
Jason looked up, panting hard, "I hate spiders." he reiterated, eyes closing, fresh tears pouring from his yellow eyes.
"Jason keep awake. It's Christian," he cooed, rubbing Jason's jaw, "No more spiders."
"I hate spiders," Jason said again, shivering badly.
Christian laid his jacket over him, "It's okay, Jason; I don't like dogs. Please keep your eyes open."
Jason shook his head, "I can't," he shuddered, "Hurts too much."
Christian cursed and looked at the yellow tinged man. He stood up and carefully lifted Jason gently, sitting himself down and lowering the dying man into his lap.
"I've got you," Christian whispered softly, "Try and hold on. Just a little longer. We'll get you antibiotics."
"I'll try," Jason shuddered, groaning lowly and clutching his side, "It hurts. It hurts so badly."
"That's good; it'll keep you awake," Christian commented, holding his bodyguard tightly.
"You're a good boy, Teddy," Jason mumbled, totally lost for a moment, holding Christian's hand, "Good boy."
Christian bit back his tears, looking around the back of the car. He could see that the little girls of the family they'd stolen the car from had left little dollies in the back which were now covered in Jason's vomit and god knows what else; the man was so ill that they hadn't bothered with sick bags or to stop the car because they just didn't have time.
Out of the corner of his eye, Christian noticed 'The CD'.
It was the CD that any parent of a child this century both loved and dreaded. Teddy played it at least three times a day and it was the easiest way to keep him entertained when he and Ana went for family drives.
"Ryan," Christian called, handing the CD over to the new driver, "We're losing him; it's worth a shot."
Ryan nodded and put the CD in quickly, sitting back in his seat again and speeding onwards, "If this works, it becomes my favourite CD ever."
"I know Sophie has it," Christian explained, looking down at the sickly father in his arms, "Turn it up."
The stereo wasn't as great as the R8 but Christian recognised the piano intro.
So did Jason; his face one of shock, eyes wide and staring at Christian, "Sophie?"
Christian nodded, smiling at the moment of clarity Jason gave him, "Jason, do you want to build a snowman? Come on lets go and play. I never see you anymore, come out the door; it's like you've gone away. We used to be best buddies, but now we're not. I wish you would tell me why. Do you want to build a snowman? It doesn't have to be a snowman."
Jason smiled, opening his own mouth and licking his lips, "Do you want to build a snow man? Or ride our bikes around the hall?" he coughed, "I think some company is overdue, I've started talking to the pictures on the walls-"
"Hang in there Jone," Ryan interjected.
"It gets a little lonely in all these empty rooms watching the hours tick by," Jason struggled to say, though he was smiling widely as he no doubt imagined his bedtime routine with Sophie.
Once Teddy had gotten angry that Christian didn't sing to him before bed, 'Like Taylor does' and after inspection, he'd discovered that the Taylors had a sing-a-long before bedtime and Teddy had been a part of it when he'd slept over with Sophie one night.
"That's it, Jason," Christian smiled, "Sing for Sophie."
"Princess Sophie," Jason corrected Christian, "You have a daughter now. Get used to it."
"You remember that?" Christian asked in disbelief, watching Jason nod, "I think I'm going to call her Phoebe."
"Pretty," Jason sighed, head in Christian's lap, "You be Ana. I don't play the princesses."
"Huh?" Christian frowned, then realised what Jason was asking, "Okay can I just say something crazy?"
"I love crazy," Jason coughed.
"All my life has been a series of doors in my face. And then suddenly I bump into you." Christian sung, seeing Ryan laughing in the rearview mirror.
"I was thinking the same thing," Jason struggled, "I've been searching my whole life to find my own place and maybe it's the party talking or the chocolate fondue."
.
Meanwhile…
.
Welch was pacing around Camp Barron, walkie-talkie in hand as he helped the Brits backing up their equipment to leave. He kept checking his watch and cursing; where the fuck were they?
They'd said they'd be here in under forty minutes and they were late.
He'd called Gail earlier to let her know that he'd made contact with them but he was desperate now to not have to call her and tell her that they'd missed their chance to get to Germany with the Britons.
Grey wasn't his only client; Welch's security advising firm was ridiculously busy right now and his resources were becoming stretched thin. Of course Grey was Welch's primary concern but he still had five different missing people whose families were offering six figure sums to help locate.
Where were they?
Welch huffed and rolled his weight on his feet, "No sign of him, Scott," he said to the Captain beside him, a dear old friend from their past lives in Desert Storm.
"Have faith; we still have another thirty minutes before we need to be seen as airborne," Scott nodded, checking his watch, "It would help if my men knew what they were driving. They're antsy that they let an insurgent into the camp."
"You'll know them when they arrive; Grey's a bit of an eccentric. Lovely guy but he's not subtle," Welch tutted, "Bought a brand new Mclaren P1 prior to this trip; crimson red. Expensive cars are his hobby."
"Phewww," Scott whistled, "McLaren P1, huh? My annual salary couldn't fuel that car."
"It's a bitch to keep him secure when he's making himself a target," Welch laughed, "I mean, how many men drive around in a bright red P1 with the plates 'GREY5'? Just asking for a sniper."
"GREY5', huh?" Scott laughed, "This guy think he's a Thunderbird? T1, T2?"
"Fuck knows," Welch shrugged, "He pays well and he tends to listen to advice; dream client really."
"Sir," a young female private called, saluting Scott.
"At ease," Scott waved away the formality, "What's happened?"
"There's a blue Toyota approaching base," the female said, "Sir…Sir we think they're singing Frozen Sir."
Scott looked at Welch and rose an eyebrow, "That your guys?"
"I told you Grey was an eccentric," Welch commented, following the young private out of Scott's tent and towards the gate. Someone handed him binoculars and his heart swelled.
"That's them!" he confirmed, punching the air, "Cutting it fine, the fucking bastards," Welch laughed then stopped and listened to the echo around them; holy shit, that was Frozen. Welch's granddaughters loved that film.
He and Scott stood watching the car approach, the stereo loud but the sound of three male voices in unison singing dominated the song. Welch could hear Christian in particular, Jason too.
"I'm never going back, the past is in the past; let it go! Let it go! And I'll rise like the break of dawn! Let it go, let it go, that perfect girl is gone. Here I stand in the light of day; let the storm rage on!"
"Open the gate!" Scott ordered, "Have medics on standby; come on! Move!"