"And this is the new X-Ray machine." Benjamin Sholokhov could hardly contain his glee as he took several recently hired physicians for a tour of the new hospital a week before the official opening. Some of them were orthopedic specialists, but others practiced general pediatric medicine. As the head of the Foundation, Adam Featherstone wanted to take Lillian's dream and expand it to encompass treatments for the many childhood diseases threatening the young.
"I wish we'd had that when I was in the Army. It would have helped a lot after the quake in '06."
"Were you here then Doctor…?" Sholokhov dipped his head, flushing a little. "I'm sorry, I haven't learned all your names yet."
"Samuel Aaronson," the man replied. "It's all right, Dr. Sholokhov, you've got a lot of names to remember."
"Dr. Aaronson, yes, thank you. You were here during the earthquake?"
"Yes," Aaronson nodded. "I was stationed at Angel Island and we came right over."
As a civilian, Sholokhov was glad he'd left San Francisco the day before the quake. As a physician and surgeon, he was sorry he missed it. Not for the experience of being in an earthquake but for losing the opportunity to help. He was devastated when he learned Lillian and her friend were involved.
Before Aaronson could answer, there was a loud crash above them and the building shook. A fine white dust shifted down on them. The group looked at each other, eyes wide. Was this a precursor to another quake? Should they run or stay where they were? Everyone turned to Sholokhov who stared back at them wide-eyed. No one moved for a few moments. None of them were sure of what to do next.
"I'm so sorry." A man ran into the room, partially covered in white dust. "The men dropped a beam two floors above. Everything's all right." He stopped, suddenly aware of the several pairs of eyes all staring at him.
Sholokhov stepped to the front. "Don't be alarmed everyone. They're doing some last-minute finalizing work on some of the upper floors." The group relaxed but continued to stare. "Please, allow me to present Mr. Erik Dantes, owner of the Monte Cristo Design and Construction company that built this hospital. Erik himself designed this building."
Erik stared back at the group, raising a hand to his mask to ensure its stability. A man stepped forward and Erik frowned. "Do I know you, sir?"
The man smiled, holding out a hand. "We've met before, although not under the best of circumstances. It's good to see you looking so well, Mr. Dantes."
Tentatively, Erik shook the man's hand. "I'm sorry, but I can't quite remember where we met."
"Dr. Aaronson was an Army physician," Sholokhov explained stepping up to the two. "He was here just after the earthquake."
"Of course." Erik tightened his grip on Aaronson's hand and smiled. "You were the doctor who treated me in the hospital tent. Thank you."
"It was my pleasure, Mr. Dantes. I'm happy to see you up and about. And to hear you are responsible for this magnificent facility, well, it's an honor to meet you again."
"And you, sir." Erik turned to Sholokhov. "Again, I'm sorry for the scare. I'll be on the next floor up if you need me." He didn't wait for Sholokhov's acknowledgement; he just turned and left.
Sholokhov looked at his companions. They were all medical personnel and he could read the question in their eyes as clearly as words on a printed page. "Yes. I do know why he wears that mask. If Erik were a child today, we might be able to help him a bit." He shook his head slowly. "But not as an adult, and even now, there wouldn't be a lot we could do."
The others sighed, they were all here because they believed in the Danby Foundation's aims. To meet someone whom they might have wished to help and to be told their skills and knowledge were inadequate in this case, was a bitter pill for the doctors to swallow.
. . . .
"Is everything all right?" Christine looked up from her seat on a high stool, Erik's handkerchief pressed against her mouth and nose. She'd begged to accompany Erik to the building site today. She said she wanted to get a preview of the facility before the grand opening. The truth was she was still worried about his state of mind.
He appeared well after their talk and his confession in the loft. But every now and again, his focus would shift and she knew even as he looked at her, he was thinking about his past. Despite his assurances that he was all right, had put the past in the past, she didn't want to leave him alone too long.
When the beam fell, Erik ran up the stairs to check on his men. Then she saw him, through the stairwell door window, race down to the floor below.
"It's fine. Sholokhov was leading a tour on the next floor down. I let them know everything was all right." He looked at her, his breath catching in his throat. Even with a light layer of plaster dust coating her hair and clothes, she looked exquisite. He shook himself, focusing back on their surroundings. "You shouldn't be here with all this dust still in the air. It's not good for your throat." Erik scanned the room looking for signs of damage. There didn't appear to be any but he still wanted to take a closer look to be sure.
"I opened the balcony doors to let fresh air in while you were gone." She said, rising and coming up to brush more of the dust from his shirt and waistcoat. At the end of each corridor of patient rooms, Erik added a set of French doors opening out onto a small balcony. He thought that some of the patients as well as their visitors might enjoy a quick breath of fresh air and a chance to step away from the sickrooms, if only for a moment.
"There's still too much dust in the air." He frowned, watching the motes filtering down to the floor. "I'll go upstairs and get someone to come down with a mop and bucket to clean this up."
"I can do that." She hopped down from the stool. A noise from one of the patient rooms near the end of the corridor distracted them. "What's that?"
"I don't know. Something's probably come loose. I'll go check it." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Get out of here now. And don't come back until the area's been mopped down."
He watched her exit through the stairwell door, making sure it closed automatically as it should. Nodding in approval he turned back to the rooms checking each one quickly for damage. A few of the chairs placed outside each room for visitors were knocked out of place, but otherwise there seemed to be no harm done.
So far so good. One more to—'Argh!" Pain exploded across his shoulder as he was slammed to the floor. Gasping he turned over, narrowly avoiding a blow to his head. "What?" Someone was there, standing over him holding a metal bar. "Who?"
"Ah, Mr. Dantes, have you forgotten your old friend?" The man moved into the light and recognition set in.
"Ping Sai." Erik pushed up painfully on his elbow. Ping Sai brought the bar down on his left thigh and he cried out, arching his back with the pain. He rolled, trying to get away before the next blow fell. Grabbing a chair by the leg, he threw it at the man, buying himself precious seconds to get to his feet.
Agony shot through his thigh and he nearly fell. He saw the metal bar swing at his leg again. "No!" He twisted just enough to deflect the blow from his kneecap to his lower leg before falling hard against the French doors. The doors flew open as glass shattered raining shards down, opening small cuts on Erik's face and neck.
"You wanted to destroy me, Erik Dantes," Ping Sai gritted through stained teeth. I've been hiding amongst the scum of the streets waiting for the chance to get my revenge. Now I will destroy you and then I will burn your building to the ground."
"No," Erik gasped, crawling through the broken doors onto the small balcony. He pulled himself up the wrought-iron guard railing until he stood trembling against it. "No. I won't let you destroy this place."
From the corner of his eye, he saw Christine come through the stairway door. "RUN!" He screamed, catching her eye. "Christine run!" Pushing off from the railing, he threw himself at his enemy, knocking Ping Sai off balance before falling to the floor. Desperately he reached for something, anything he could use as a weapon.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the swing of the metal bar coming at his head. Moving fast, relying on reflexes rather than strength, he caught the man's wrist on the downswing, managing to twist his adversary off balance as the blow glanced off the side of his head instead of crushing it.
For a second he couldn't see or hear; there was nothing beyond the pain in his skull. Then feeling set in again. His leg was an agony of fire; he could barely move it. Twisting his body around, Erik grabbed for the balcony railing once more, trying to get to his feet. Ping Sai caught him, yanking him upright and throwing him against the decorative railing. Erik grabbed hold just in time to stop himself from being thrown over the barrier to the ground several floors below. Ping Sai's hands came around his throat, cutting off his air.
Erik went limp, using his own weight to drop to the floor, breaking Ping Sai's hold on his neck and crawling back a few feet from the balcony's edge. He felt himself weakening. His head was spinning and his vision blurring. The blows to his shoulder and leg sent pain lancing through his body. He couldn't focus, couldn't think, couldn't move. He saw Ping Sai reach for him again, knowing this time the man would succeed in pitching him over the balcony rail.
He did the only thing he could think of to stop the man. He pulled off his mask, looking Ping Sai full in the face.
"Aiiee!" Ping Sai screamed, terrorized by the demon's face before him. He stumbled back a few steps, raising the metal bar high to bring it down crashing into Erik's head.
"No!" Erik kicked up at Ping Sai with his good leg, delivering a blow to the man's midsection .
Ping Sai lost his balance, stumbling backwards against the railing. The heavy metal bar raised overhead unbalanced him. With a single scream, he fell to the ground.
Erik heard the wet sound of the man hitting the pavement. He knew Ping Sai would never rise again. Footsteps pounded across the floor toward him. He heard a woman scream his name. "Christine." He tried to push up to his forearm, to find her. Something warm and wet was running into his eyes. His strength failed him and he collapsed back to the floor, eyes closing, fingers reaching for the talisman he always carried in his pocket. Her ribbon. As long as he had it, he'd be safe. He felt a soft hand caress his face and heard her voice in his ear. He inhaled, drawing in the scents of rose and jasmine as his eyes slid shut and he surrendered to darkness.