Chapter 29: Melted
Saturday 1620.
Four months and three weeks after F.B.
"Did Junior tell you the reason why we are meeting him in a public place, Shades?"
"Beside him having information? Not really. Relax Sly; he wouldn't have called us up so fast if it wasn't important."
Fox shrugged and continued to walk alongside Coco. The two of them were currently walking downtown towards the general hospital. Coco had changed into a new outfit, keeping the same style she used before. Fox was wearing plain clothes as well. In his case baggy pants, a tank top, and a leather jacket, all in various shades of brown and red. Both were packing: Coco with her concealed sidearm at her back and Fox with two combat knives hidden in his jacket.
Presently, Coco was on her scroll, browsing through some files Mouser had sent over minutes before they left. And she did not like what she saw.
"Great, I was afraid of this." A big frown was on her face. "I got the city's inventory lists for certain medicines. Or better said: lack thereof. Apparently, there is a growing number of patients coming down with cases of sickness. Nothing too threatening and usually easily treatable, but it reduced our reserves to nonexistent. And with Junior's smuggling halted for now, that won't change anytime soon."
"Can't we get the stuff from elsewhere?"
"We're trying, but it's problematic." Coco huffed. "Vale could produce most of the medicines themselves, but some ingredients are missing. Unfortunately, we can only get those from Mistral. And Mistral has stopped sending us civil transports."
Fox' brows furrowed as they kept walking. "Why would they do that?"
"Because, some weeks ago, Atlas started to send patrols to the civil trade routes, threatening the Mistrali transports. Not that they could actually get away with attacking them, but it worked nonetheless. Mistral insists that Vale sends his own transports and guess who Atlas is able to attack. So yeah, we can only send transports with escorts, and that takes time and slows down the resource flow."
"Sounds like someone messed up in keeping our stocks up beforehand."
"Rather in keeping them safe. Many storage houses got hit by the White Fang after Beacon fell. That's why we're out of the stuff."
"And that's why you need good old me to supply y'all."
Coco and Fox spun around as they heard the familiar voice of Junior as he was approaching them from behind.
"Junior. Weren't we supposed to meet at the hospital?" Coco gave him a judging look.
"You got that right, Shades. But the hospital staff took exception to me insisting on smoking at their entranceway, so they kindly suggested I take a walk around the block until I finished." Junior plucked his cigarette from his mouth for emphasis and snipped it towards the sidewalk.
"I should fine you for littering."
Junior only laughed. "Put it on my tap, Shades. Now come on, let's get this over with."
The large man gestured around a corner, and the three of them approached the downtown hospital. The building itself was not remarkable, like many public buildings in Vale, but Coco had to admit that there was an unusually high number of people leaving and entering the building. But maybe she just thought that because she had just received the report about higher numbers of patients.
As the trio entered the building, Fox nudged Junior's shoulder. "Care to fill us in why we're here?"
"Right." Junior nodded. "A few hours after that lovely visit I got from Shades and Lucky, one of my men contacted me. As you know, some of my guys are still in hospitals, and this particular one is recuperating here. And while taking a stroll through the facility, he spotted something fascinating."
They passed the reception now and made their way up the stairs.
"And what exactly did he find?"
"Not what, who." Junior turned a corner and stopped in front of a windowed treatment room. Inside, a doctor was checking on his patient, who was sitting upright, staring at the opposite wall. Coco was unsure if the patient even noticed the doctor by how unresponsive they were.
"By the lack of reaction, I wager you two didn't have the questionable pleasure of meeting her. But you sure know her former partner: Roman Torchwick." That got him their attention. "I was actually astonished to hear that she's out in the open like that. Given her abilities, I expected some sort of disguise. She used a fake name to check in, sure, but that's about it."
"Torchwick's partner, huh?" Coco tapped her chin in thought. "And you think she might have information about the White Fang?"
Junior shrugged "She's at least primed to know something. Torchwick worked closely with the Fang; likely she knows some hiding spots and hangouts."
Coco nodded and returned her gaze to the woman in the room. With her hospital gown, she surely did not look like a criminal.
"And you think she'll just tell us that information?"
Junior smirked crookedly. "Well Shades, that could be difficult for more reasons than one."
Before Coco could ask what Junior meant by that, the attending physician left the room and turned towards the three.
"Oh, hello. Are you here to visit her?"
Junior just stepped aside and looked at Coco, expectantly. She sighed and addressed the doctor. "Something like that. I'm Colonel Coco Adel, Vale 7th Army Battalion. My associates and I need to have a word with your patient, if possible."
The physician crossed his arms over his clipboard, eying Coco. "Is she in trouble?"
Coco shook her head with a reassuring smile. "We think she might be able to help us out. We lack information in an investigation, and we hope she might be able to fill in some blanks."
"Well, if the garrison commander herself shows up, it sure is important, hm?" His posture relaxed a bit. "Has this something to do with the injuries she sustained? You're the first visitors she had in months. I hope you can shed some light on what happened to her."
Coco looked from the patient to the doctor. "It is possible. Could you tell us exactly what she's suffering from?"
"Well, that could take a while." He flipped his clipboard open and pulled out the patient chart. "About a week after the Fall we received a call from an elderly citizen that had found her collapsed in his garden. When the paramedics found her, she was severely famished and barely hydrated. They managed to stabilize her and transport her to this facility. After she arrived here, we ran some tests. She had several wounds, ranging from barely healed cuts and bruises to deep slashes, likely caused by Grimm, and severely mangled legs, all of them containing infections. We noticed several wrongly healed fractures in her legs and knees, essentially making it impossible for her to move them without reconstructive surgery. We managed to treat the wounds properly and combat the infections and the resulting fever. If you want my guess, then I'd say she was attacked and almost killed by Grimm. However, she managed to escape, and her aura struggled to keep her fever at bay, ultimately failing due to lack of nutrients, which is likely why she lost conscience. Was she part of the Battle of Beacon?"
Coco nodded, trying to suppress her surprise at the list of injuries. "Yes. She was listed M.I.A., believed dead."
The doctor furrowed his brows. "How can that be? We identified her from the scroll she carried and sent her information to the central database."
This time it was Junior who answered. "Your identification was wrong. She likely picked that scroll up from somewhere, and you falsely assumed it as her own. You got her listed under a wrong name. That's why superficial searches overlooked her."
The doctor seemed as if he was about to protest but Coco addressed him first, her sight set on the patient, who was still sitting upright and staring at the wall. "You said you treated her. She doesn't look well."
The physician sighed. "No. Physically she's stable, but her mental health is concerning. Since she regained conscience, she has neither talked nor otherwise tried to communicate. The nurses have to feed her and take her to the bathroom since she's completely unresponsive. Our resident psychologist diagnosed her with a severe case of lost self-preservation. He believes that whatever happened to her caused enough trauma for her to completely shut down. It is likely that the loss of her ability to move her legs amplifies that. Her ID identifies her as a huntress in training and even though you're telling me that we identified her wrongly, given her large amount of aura that might remain true?" He looked at Coco, and she simply nodded. "Well, our psychologist believes that being so soundly defeated in battle and now unable to continue the path she chose caused her bad mental state. He suggests fixing her legs and starting physical therapy in hopes that progress would help to bring her mind in the right place. However, there is a problem with that."
Coco looked back at him. "That being?"
"Well, unfortunately, a surgery like this needs the approval of the patient or, if that is impossible, a relative. Since nobody except the man who found her came to visit, and she remains unresponsive, we could not start the operation. But now you are here and have correctly identified her, maybe we can find a relative of hers to authorize the procedure?"
The doctor threw an almost hopeful look at Coco, who just turned to Junior. Unfortunately, he could only shake his head. "No relatives."
The doctor sighed. "Well, then there is nothing we can do but hope she regains responsiveness on her own. It is known to happen, but after more than four months it seems unlikely. I am sorry, I know you came here to get some answers, but I am afraid she can't provide them."
Coco turned around and rested her hands on the window sill. Frustration was creeping up in her. Of course. Leave it to the health care system to be so damn bureaucratic that it prevents itself from treating patients properly. Then again, if they had, she would likely be already gone by now, and we would have been none the wiser. There has to be a way to get information out of her. We can't afford to wait. But if the hospital is not allowed to do the procedure, how could we ….
Coco spun around suddenly as an idea struck her. "Sly, contact Doc. Tell him to ready a room at the base hospital. Then call Brush and have her land on the roof here."
Sly nodded, but the doctor moved in, confused and ready to interfere. "Excuse me, but what are you doing?"
Coco turned and stared him right in the eyes. "We're moving her to a military hospital."
"No, you don't. She's my patient!"
Coco simply stared the physician down. "And you just told us that you could not help her. We can."
"What? How? I mean no offense, but what could a military hospital possibly do that a civilian facility can … not …."
As the physician trailed off, realizing what Coco was up to, the Colonel nodded. "That's right. We're at war, that gives me broad authority in all things concerning the safety of this city. So we're going to transfer her. In a military hospital it does not matter if she or anyone is consenting to an operation, I'll just order it."
The doctor looked back to his patient before his gaze landed on Coco again. He held it for a while before he nodded. "Promise you'll take good care of her."
Coco nodded. "You have my word."
Apparently, that was enough as the doctor, after a last look back to this patient, turned to leave. A few steps later, he stopped, asking one last thing.
"Since we got it wrong all this time: what's her real name?"
Junior showed a small smile as he answered.
"Neopolitan."
