Chapter Sixteen
Thirty minutes later, Porthos emerged from the La Scala Brasserie carrying two pizza boxes, one considerably larger than the other.
Easing his bulk into the passenger seat of Aramis's car, he twisted around and eased the smaller box between the seats onto the back seat.
"Nice place," he said, as he got himself settled, stretching his legs out and crossing his ankles.
"A hidden gem, my hungry friend," Aramis replied. "Seat belt," he added, as he fired up the car.
Porthos huffed, juggling the box as he pulled the belt across his chest and clicked it into place. Reverently opening the box, he groaned in delight at the colourful, delicious looking sight now laid before him.
"You beauty," he breathed, before prising a pre-cut slice from the box and lifting it to his lips.
"Couldn't they fit any more toppings on there?" Aramis asked, with as straight a face as he could manage.
"They tried," Porthos laughed. "But they'd have needed a bigger box."
Pausing before taking a bite, he glanced across at Aramis as his friend neatly swung the car around and set off toward their office building.
"Go ahead," Aramis laughed. "Like I said, it's a brave man who would part you from your food. At least I've been spared your growling stomach while I waited here."
"This shouldn't take long," Porthos replied, as he shoved the slice into his mouth.
Aramis reached forward and pulled a couple of tissues from a box on the shelf behind the gear stick and handed them over.
"I hope not," he grimaced.
Twenty minutes later, they were pulling up outside their building. All was in darkness, as was to be expected. Treville's office was often a lone light at the back of the building, sometimes accompanied by their own if they pulled a late shift.
With half the pizza remaining, Porthos eased himself out of the car with a satisfied grunt, waiting while Aramis collected his own pizza from the rear seat. Together they walked around to the rear of the building, under the arc of lights that would remain on throughout the night. Reaching the double doors, they looked up at the camera, standard practise, before keying in the six digit number on the keypad. The door buzzed and softly opened and they shoved through into the quiet low-lit corridor heading for the lift.
They passed a couple of cleaners, wielding large floor polishing machines, before pulling up at the lift. Aramis punched the button, while Porthos sneaked another slice of pizza from his box.
A few moments later, they stepped out onto their floor and made their way down the cream coloured corridor. There were two people working in their offices under desk lamps. Both looked up and nodded as Porthos and Aramis walked past.
As they approached Treville's office, their pace slowed.
The door was closed. The glass pane was dark, indicating the office beyond was not lit. Aramis dropped his box on his desk and hurried back to one of the occupied offices.
"Where's the Captain?" he called from the doorway.
His colleague raised tired eyes and frowned at him.
"He hasn't been here all evening," he replied.
"What?" Aramis said, as Porthos came up behind him.
"He left a couple of hours ago," the man shrugged, before dropping his head back down to his work.
Porthos dropped his pizza box on the nearest desk and pulled out his phone, punching in numbers as they both ran back toward the lift, boots echoing along the quiet corridor.
oOo
Eduard Mendez shrugged on the porter's coat one last time. This time, it was past seven p.m. and he had timed his visit to coincide with a change in staff. Everything was in place. He felt the adrenalin beginning to pump in his veins.
Placing the id lanyard around his neck, he avoided eye contact with few men coming and going around him and began to retrace the route he and the nurse, Julia Bouvier, had taken a few days ago. Along the way, he grabbed a metal basket full of empty canisters. For all intents and purposes, he was a porter, going about his night duty.
In the lift, he gently pressed the button to the floor he wanted. He almost began to whistle as the lift doors closed at began its ascent.
He was in luck. The ICU was still not busy and there were few staff on duty. No-one paid any attention to him as he moved between the rooms he had been in before. He waited for half an hour until what staff there had been had left the floor and he was sure he would be unimpeded. In the quiet of the early evening, the place was eerily lit by bright lights in the corridor, but the empty rooms were in semi dark darkness.
Save one.
Mendez pushed his way into the room.
Athos was asleep, in an oversize t shirt, a sheet loosely draped over him by way of cover; the blue curtain closed around the far side of the bed.
Mendez's eyes flicked around the room, what he could see of it. The lights were low, but a bank of small, brighter lights burned over the head of the bed. There was a door that he could see at the other side of the room, partially obscured by the curtain, which he took for a bathroom, but his eyes were fixed on his prize, as he slowly pulled the blade from inside his brown coat.
Leaning over, he examined Athos's face.
His eyes ran down the length of him. A slow smile spread across his face.
Athos de la Fere.
Bruised, battered but alive. Just as he liked them. He would turn this room from white to red and slip away.
He just needed Athos to wake for this. He wanted to see the fear in his eyes. To feel his helplessness.
He dropped the blade to the back of Athos's uninjured hand, and pressed.
He waited.
And was rewarded, as Athos's eyes slowly opened and he frowned.
Mendez smiled slowly down at him as he raised his knife.
The bright blue-white light from above the bed bounced off the steel blade.
Athos had a brief flashback of Mendez's face staring at him through the smashed window of his car, before he saw Mendez's eyes harden as he plunged the knife toward Athos's chest.
He gasped as a hard pressure hit him, and pain spread across his chest in a white hot streak.
Above him, Mendez frowned and a low grunt escaped him. The delicious feeling as the blade sliced into flesh and through muscle was, however, denied him.
The blade had hit something hard and it was embedded. It had hit a cast on his arm, visible now as he grabbed the sheet and pulled it sheet back. Before he could pull the blade out, the curtain snapped back and a blonde nurse appeared, a primed Glock held in both hands, perfectly steady, the barrel expertly trained on his forehead.
Athos stared at the gun, too dazed to respond, still trying to breathe, but he caught the hard look she gave him and instinct told him she had this. He was in no position to do anything, anyway, the white heat in his chest settling into a painful ache.
Mendez's eyes flicked down to Athos, perfectly still but now staring at him.
This was unexpected and, furious at being denied his sport, Mendez's eyes flicked back to the nurse. A slow smile spread across his face.
"Drop it," she said, calmly.
"Or what?" he replied, his voice cold, as he pulled the blade free with a grunt.
His blood lust was high now, but this time, his self-preservation is equally high. Or pride, more likely, as he never cared about showing his face. But this situation intrigued him.
"I will shoot, of course," Kate said, calmly.
Mendez weighed up the situation. He was close enough to slash de la Fere's throat, but the nurse would fire, he had no doubt. So he would not live to see his triumph. However, there was still the possibility he could have two deaths here. So Mendez was not ready to concede.
With a quick flick of his hand, blood welled up as he flicked the blade along Athos's upper arm. Athos, however, did not give him the satisfaction of reacting.
Caught off-guard, Kate's fingers clamped around the handle of the gun, but she could not ignore they were at an impasse. She could not risk any residual damage he may do to Athos, or to others who would run to the sound of a gun shot.
Everyone stared at each other.
Mendez smiled a deadly smile and stepped back, waving the knife in a small, tight circle, as if to taunt the woman at the other side of the bed.
The tension in the room was palpable.
Suddenly, Julia came into the room and before she could react to the scene in front of her, Mendez grabbed her around the throat, pulling her in front of him, his blade to her skin.
Kate swore inwardly and her hand dropped slowly.
It was enough.
Mendez pushed Julia forward, still blocking any shot, and ran.
Kate put the safety catch on and dropped the gun onto the foot of the bed, quickly reaching for a towel and clamping it around Athos's arm, though it was a not a deep wound.
Shocked, Julia rose to her feet and surveyed the scene, quickly crossing the room to help Kate.
Athos was angry, but relieved that no-one had died or sustained serious injury.
He turned his head as Julia asked Kate what was going on, her eyes on the discarded weapon.
"Yes," Athos managed, looking at Kate, who was breathing hard and angry as hell. "What is going on?"
A short while later, Porthos and Aramis arrived back, charging into the room, guns out and eyes wild.
Julia was setting the room to rights and Kate was bandaging Athos's upper arm. Taking in the damaged cast on his forearm, they re-holstered their weapons.
"What the hell happened?" Porthos growled.
Fearing the worst, Porthos had called Treville to discover that he had not requested their presence back at the office. Panicked, they had run from the building and drove at speed back to the hospital. It had been a tense journey. The hospital though, was quiet, until they had arrived at Athos's room to find chaos, but their friend, alive.
"Can't leave you alone for a minute," Aramis said, his hand dropping gently onto Athos's shoulder, careful of the bandage now wrapped around his upper arm.
Treville arrived as both his men were questioning staff on duty on the lower floors and reception, after Julia, visibly upset, confirmed she recognised the man from a few days earlier. There had been nothing unusual about him, she had said. He had been pleasant and accommodating. She believed he was a porter.
No-one remembered him. CCTV had shown him walking away from the hospital and into a nearby building. And then, nothing.
Once more, Mendez had wreaked havoc and had disappeared into the night.
To be continued ...