Jo's POV – Doctor Verner's office.
Jo woke up at the irregular tapping of a branch against the window. It was still raining hard and the wind was stronger. By the little light that filtered from the shutter she could not tell if it was morning or late night, but she was feeling unusually rested. She looked at her watch
6:30, not bad!
She had slept almost 7 hours, a bounty, it happened maybe once or twice in a month. 87 was still sleeping, an undisturbed sleep finally, and she didn't want to risk waking him so she decided to get up. She silently slipped into her jeans and took a few steps on her tiptoes when a dim ray of light fell upon 87, illuminating his face and upper body. His left arm was bent under his head, the line of his arm muscle well defined under the shirt, his features, usually so tight and geometrical, looking softer, smoother. It was almost like watching a different man. He didn't exactly look vulnerable
Never in a thousand years could he look vulnerable!
but he seemed… relaxed.
He's not only hot, he's really handsome… But oh, God, he's hot!
Her eyes kept shifting from his new, beautiful face, to his arm, to that muscle that, even when loose, still creased the fabric of the shirt. She wondered how it would be to touch it, to feel its resting strength, and pass a finger over his forehead, smooth for the first time, and the line of his upper lip, fuller now without its usual contraction… she realized that she was slightly turned on.
Get out of this room!
But her feet did not comply and she stood there, in the middle of the room, and went on staring. So she tried to picture his reaction at finding her looming over him and shame made her face burn. That was enough to get her finally moving.
There was a covered terrace outside the living room which extended to the side where Al-Bayati
That horrible, horrible man!
was sleeping. She was tempted to go outside, she'd always liked listening to the rain, but she didn't know if the doors were protected by some form of alarm and she certainly didn't mean to find it out so she just sat on the sofa, looking outside for a while.
She was strangely euphoric; she had expected that she'd be feeling despondent, after all, her hopes for some sort of retributive justice had been sorely damaged the evening before, when that monster had proudly boasted his heinous crimes. And the way he talked to and about 87! There was certainly something true about 87's lack of feelings because if that man had spoken to her in that way she'd had punched him in the face. Even like that she had needed all her self-control not to hit him a couple of times. 87 might have thought she'd been joking, but a part of her really wished that he had not chosen to protect the life of that beast.
I've been so naïve! Did I really think that a man with an ounce of morality would have chosen to work at such a project! I should have seen it coming!
And yet she was in high spirits. It was probably due to the 7 hours' sleep, but she couldn't honestly exclude the possibility that 87 might have a role in it. She'd loved the way he had decided to take her advice and tried sleeping on the bed. And also the fact that he was involving her in their plans. As if he was learning to trust her. As if he was slowly changing opinion about her. She caught herself smiling with a mix of pride and fond gratitude.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the rumbling of her stomach. She got up and went to the kitchen: since she was up early, she could prepare breakfast for them
him.
The smell of coffee was wafting into the kitchen when 87 entered the room:
"You made breakfast?"
He sounded genuinely surprised, so Jo smiled with pleasure, and said with nonchalance:
"I'm just toasting some bread, and I brewed coffee – I'm afraid there's no ginseng" she joked and he twitched a corner of his lips in response.
"Two eggs, sunny side up, right?" she asked and at this he stood startled for a second then nodded. Jo had to turn her back to him to hide the look of satisfaction and the smug smile which had appeared on her face.
You're not the only one who has a keen eye for details!
He pulled up a stool to the centre island where she was cooking and bit into a piece of toast.
"How did you sleep?" she asked expectantly.
"Bad" was the daunting reply.
"Other nightmares?"
He nodded.
"I'm so sorry. I must have been wrong after all. It probably doesn't work for you."
87 was silent for a second while munching then answered slowly "No, I think you were right. It feels… I feel... Different."
"Different good or different bad?"
"I don't know yet."
"Good! At least I hope." She smiled then added "You should wake up the old man."
87 nodded and got up; he took a few steps towards the corridor then, about midway, he turned back:
"You stopped calling him doctor." It was not a question, just an observation, but it was correct
He's noticed…
So Jo confirmed: "I can't call him doctor. I mean, he's a brain, no doubt about it… but he's not a doctor. We make an oath, you know, – do no harm – and I really believe it." She shrugged and repeated "I can't call him doctor."
87 fixed her intently for a couple of seconds, then said: "I'll wake the old man." And left the room. He had understood and, perhaps, agreed.
God, I really like him!
"YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHO YOU'RE TALKING TO! YOU MUST LET ME SEE HIM! OH GOD, PLEASE, LET ME GO TO HIM!"
A black woman was wailing, imploring and threatening the ER staff all at the same time, a scene that Jo had grown quite accustomed to during her years at the St. John. She should have been waiting in the car which she had parked in the underground garage of Portland hospital but all of a sudden her mobile had stopped working. 87 had said that he'd call her if he needed a diversion and she certainly didn't want to let him down. But she had no bars, it was as if suddenly any form of service had disappeared. That's why she had decided to move, leaving Al-Bayati in the car, because she had hoped that on the ground floor the mobile would get a signal.
Nothing! Fucking shit!
Some relatives of the woman had arrived in the waiting room and they were managing to calm her down, her wails subdued into quiet sobs. Then the doors were thrown open to admit two paramedics with a woman on a stretcher. They spoke with the nurse at the admission:
"She was trapped, we had to cut the dashboard to set her free." They had started reporting the vital signs when the wailing woman took up shouting at the top of her lungs:
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT BITCH DOING HERE? WAS SHE IN THE CAR WITH HIM? I'M GONNA KILL HER!"
The situation was getting intriguing and Jo involuntarily moved a little closer to the group… and it was at that moment that she noticed them. Two men, dressed in dark, coordinated suits, were standing at the opposite corners of the waiting room, partly concealed by two columns. They looked…
Out of place
Precisely like the man the day of the explosion.
Jesus Christ! The Syndicate has found us!
She was sure, they were Syndicate operatives, and they were not there by chance. Probably they had also jammed the network because Jo had heard other people complain about it. She felt the adrenaline rush invest her and she retreated to a hidden spot between the vending machines and the toilet to calm down and try to think of a way to warn 87. The commotion in the waiting room was providential: the chaos provoked by the woman, her relatives, the arrival of the lover's family and the hospital security staff rushing to contain the scuffle, allowed Jo to sneak inside and hide in an empty exam room. There she waited for the right moment to take hold of the intercom and send what she hoped would be a clear message of alarm for 87:
"Doctor Andrews, room 87, 87, code blue. Doctor Andrews, room 87, code blue, code blue!"
Will he hear it? Will he understand? Oh God!
She couldn't just stay there and wait, she had to reach him. She went to the elevator but there were a few people waiting in line to use it, so she took the stairs and ran up to the fifth floor where Verner had his office.
Will 87 still be there?
She pushed the stairway door open without slowing down and, before she could even utter a curse, she ran into one of the two Syndicate assets. The impact was hard and she fell to the ground – providentially – because, as the man cried "You!" and drew his gun, Jo kicked him in the testicles with all her strength and his weapon flew into the on-call room. The man doubled over clutching his balls and Jo started hitting him in the face, pulled him to the floor and blocked him with her knees. But the operative was big and strong and, after he had managed to catch his breath, he fought back, hitting her with a good punch on her mouth. The blow almost knocked her out and she suddenly felt herself lifted from her shoulders and flung towards the door. For an instant she thought that it was over, that the other operative had arrived and that she'd be dead in a second, when she realized that the man was actually 87, that he had set the operative in a headlock and, with one swift twist, he had snapped the man's neck letting his body drop to the ground.
He helped her up and pulling her towards him, he took her face in his hands passing a thumb on her lip where blood had been oozing and asked:
"Are you alright?"
Jo's heart missed a beat, he had never touched her that way before and they had never been so close, she could almost
Kiss him
She gulped but realized that she was unable to speak so she just nodded to say that she was ok. 87 kept her face in his hands for another second then said:
"Next time use your gun."
Jo nodded again, feeling the most stupid person in the world. She actually had a gun tucked in the back of her trousers but she hadn't thought of using it for a single second.
87 probably believed that her confusion was due to the blow, not the embarrass, so he took her to the elevator to go back to the underground garage. Luckily there was no one in the corridor and in the lift so she asked:
"Did you get my message?"
"Yes, thanks, just in time"
She added with some urgency: "There was another operative…"
"Dead"
She breathed in relief then 87 asked:
"What happened? Three cop cars arrived sirens blaring."
"Yeah, it was probably because of the brawl in the ER. A man got involved in a car accident with his lover and his wife spotted her. … Lord, I'd never seen a woman so angry!"
87 grunted then said "Hell has no fury like a woman scorned."
Surprise painted her face and she exclaimed with a smile "Shakespeare?"
"Congreve" he answered, then he added with a shrug "I like to read".
Jo, really impressed by this show of classic education, agreed "You certainly do!" then she caught a glimpse of herself in the elevator mirror: she was looking at him with a smiling, starry eyed expression which probably hadn't appeared on her face since she was 23.
Get a grip! This is not the place nor the time to swoon over him!
When the elevator door opened they rushed to the car but as 87 saw it he asked alarmed: "Where's Al-Bayati?"
Jo indicated the trunk and 87 shot her a reproachful look "Did you put him in the trunk?"
"It was his idea, I swear to God" she replied, helping the man out, but she could not suppress a smile at the thought that 87 might think her capable of shoving an old, sick man into a car trunk against his will… Though she couldn't deny that when he had suggested it she had relished the idea!
They got in the car, 87 behind the wheel, and they left the hospital.
Al-Bayati noticed the blood at the corner of her mouth and asked what had happened so Jo quickly told him, then added: "Thank God he was not one of those wolverine guys otherwise I'd be dead now!"
At this 87 asked "What's a wolverine?"
Surprised, Jo explained: "Ah… it's the x-man, the one with metal inside his bones and steel claws shooting out of his knuckles…" but 87's expression was perhaps even more perplexed than before so she teased "You read Congreve but you've never seen the X-men? You really need to go back to the classics!"
Al-Bayati barged in saying: "I've seen the film! Nice one. But they don't like cinema or TV. They can't. They don't understand the emotional component of fictional works."
Jo ignored the man and asked 87 in a soft voice: "Is it like with music?"
He nodded then added "I watch the news. I like documentaries. Real things."
She made a thoughtful noise then added, jokingly "And what about talent shows? Or realities?"
With his usual imperturbable expression except for a twinkle in his eyes he replied "Sure, I love Jersey Shore."
Jo giggled like a teenager and when a confused Al-Bayati asked "What is it? What is that you like?" she burst out laughing and saw something like a smirk twitch the sides of 87's mouth.
Suddenly a van hit the left back bumper of their car and sent them spinning against a lamp post. It was then that the shooting started.
87 ordered them to crouch down for cover and Jo saw him fire with two guns at a time, with precision and efficiency, something she had only seen in the movies. But two other Syndicate cars had arrived in the meantime, there were now at least six men on the scene shooting at them. There was no way 87 could make it alone. An operative managed to get very close to the right side of the car and 87 hit him just a second before he could open the back door to extract Al-Bayati. He fell to the ground, dead on the spot, with his automatic gun in his arms. Jo slid out of the car, took the weapon, shouted to 87 "I cover your six!" and, using the car door for shield, she started firing against one of the enemies' s cars. Now that 87 had to defend only three sides, not four, his action became more effective and the Syndicate operatives had to retreat behind their cars. Taking advantage of that moment of stand off 87 ordered her: "Take the doctor and run away, I'll find you". And Jo obeyed, getting the old man out of the car and running towards the nearest building for cover. They were almost behind the corner when a bullet hit the man's knee and he fell down with a thud and a cry. Jo hoisted him and tried to hold him up and walk but the man was too heavy and uncooperative, he just repeated:
"That's too painful, let me here, let me here!"
Jo blamed herself and her weak leg
I should have trained more, I should have carried a heavier weight!
but marines leave no men behind so she kept trying. They were still there when 87 arrived:
"Leave him, we must go!"
"No, we can carry him together!"
"No" he said firmly then promised to the doctor: "I'll come and get you" and, taking Jo by an arm, he pulled her away.
