The examination took over an hour. Gatille was no respiratory system specialist or a certified surgeon. But he did manage to stop the bleeding and hurt Frank through careful probes and alcoholic application.
Merrill watched nervously throughout the process. She wondered how Frank managed to faint only once - for only about five minutes - and not to cry out. Twice or thrice she had to wipe the sweat from Gatille's forehead, acting as a head nurse. Wiping sweat and blood from Donovan was almost useless considering how frequently one had to do it.
Iris was sleepy, although she was too scared to fall into dreams completely. Frank was aware of her presence, and muttered her name once or twice, trying to say something but couldn't.
Two hours after the examination, Frank was completely conscious.
His chest was bandaged tightly. Breathing was slightly easier. He moved his hands and found them handcuffed to bed poles on either side. He opened his eyes and saw a thin, blurred figure in front of a half-broken window. The room was semi-dark. "Evening," he judged, "Already evening."
The figure turned around when he stirred. He motioned for Merrill to take away Iris.
"Hello, Donovan." Said Gatille.
A ray of light shone on his face. Frank's memory flashed. "Robert… Gatille."
Gatille grinned, looking at him coldly, eyes sparkling. "You recognize me, Donovan, the agent reluctant to rescue me. Oh you don't need to explain the situation," he said, despite the fact Frank didn't wish to explain anything, "I understood it perfectly. I was a fallen kid, expelled for disciplinary problems. I failed my family's expectations. I was on the street for over two years. But I was also an hostage!" At the last sentence he grew so loud that Iris cried. Merrill quickly covered the girl's mouth.
"I think we need to leave." She said, getting up.
"No!" Gatille yelled. "Stay. Give me the little wench."
"Robert!"
"Merrill, give me the little wench, now."
Frank stirred on bed. He tried to raise his body.
Gatille took Iris in his arms and held her close to the bed. Iris struggled, "No, hurts. It hurts." Her childish words spurted out.
Frank took a slow breath, making sure that he could talk. "Robert, let her go. She has nothing to do with you."
"Nothing to do with me, but something to do with you." Gatille grinned. "Your daughter or not, you care about her."
"It has nothing to do with that, Robert!" Frank felt desperate about sending Iris out. The girl was too young. His exclamation sent pain up his brain. He coughed terribly, blood colored the bandages red.
Gatille pronounced something horrible. "Don't you play this game with me, Donovan. If you wish to die, I would gladly kill you myself, right now." Frank smiled in his mind. He got Gatille, somehow. "Then kill me, Robert. What are you waiting for? After all, I ruined your future. I put the scar on your face. I turned you into this ugly monster, kidnapper, child-hater."
Robert's hand went up his throat. Frank felt cold fingers like those of death, only defeated. "Don't try my patience, Donovan. I warn you, don't -"
"Shut up."
"What?" Robert narrowed his eyes in disbelief.
"Shut up."
"Donovan! -"
"You fool." Frank's speech was deliberately slow, sharply contrasting the one of Gatille. "What are you holding the girl for? You know you are not going to come out of this so you want to drag her down with you, when all you want is me? What type of a smart kidnapper are you?"
Merrill was shocked. Her eyes widened in bewilderment. Even she didn't dare to talk to Gatille in that way. Somehow she summoned up Frank's death image.
Robert knew it was a trap. Frank was using a negotiation technique that's not too diplomatic. But it was working, and he could not fight against it.
"Merrill, give me the phone." He released his grip on Frank. He'd show him, that captive lying on the bed, bargaining. He'd show him that he's going to win with or without Iris.
Merrill threw a glance at Donovan while giving Gatille the phone. How did the man do it?
Frank was relieved after listening to Gatille's conversation with the team. Gatille was delivering Iris to a nearly parking lot - after threatening them not to show up until midnight, of course, so his men could get out. Robert was intelligent, obviously, but like Neil, "way too emotional" when it comes to pride issues.
A thought came across his mind then: wasn't he the same way?
Merrill watched nervously throughout the process. She wondered how Frank managed to faint only once - for only about five minutes - and not to cry out. Twice or thrice she had to wipe the sweat from Gatille's forehead, acting as a head nurse. Wiping sweat and blood from Donovan was almost useless considering how frequently one had to do it.
Iris was sleepy, although she was too scared to fall into dreams completely. Frank was aware of her presence, and muttered her name once or twice, trying to say something but couldn't.
Two hours after the examination, Frank was completely conscious.
His chest was bandaged tightly. Breathing was slightly easier. He moved his hands and found them handcuffed to bed poles on either side. He opened his eyes and saw a thin, blurred figure in front of a half-broken window. The room was semi-dark. "Evening," he judged, "Already evening."
The figure turned around when he stirred. He motioned for Merrill to take away Iris.
"Hello, Donovan." Said Gatille.
A ray of light shone on his face. Frank's memory flashed. "Robert… Gatille."
Gatille grinned, looking at him coldly, eyes sparkling. "You recognize me, Donovan, the agent reluctant to rescue me. Oh you don't need to explain the situation," he said, despite the fact Frank didn't wish to explain anything, "I understood it perfectly. I was a fallen kid, expelled for disciplinary problems. I failed my family's expectations. I was on the street for over two years. But I was also an hostage!" At the last sentence he grew so loud that Iris cried. Merrill quickly covered the girl's mouth.
"I think we need to leave." She said, getting up.
"No!" Gatille yelled. "Stay. Give me the little wench."
"Robert!"
"Merrill, give me the little wench, now."
Frank stirred on bed. He tried to raise his body.
Gatille took Iris in his arms and held her close to the bed. Iris struggled, "No, hurts. It hurts." Her childish words spurted out.
Frank took a slow breath, making sure that he could talk. "Robert, let her go. She has nothing to do with you."
"Nothing to do with me, but something to do with you." Gatille grinned. "Your daughter or not, you care about her."
"It has nothing to do with that, Robert!" Frank felt desperate about sending Iris out. The girl was too young. His exclamation sent pain up his brain. He coughed terribly, blood colored the bandages red.
Gatille pronounced something horrible. "Don't you play this game with me, Donovan. If you wish to die, I would gladly kill you myself, right now." Frank smiled in his mind. He got Gatille, somehow. "Then kill me, Robert. What are you waiting for? After all, I ruined your future. I put the scar on your face. I turned you into this ugly monster, kidnapper, child-hater."
Robert's hand went up his throat. Frank felt cold fingers like those of death, only defeated. "Don't try my patience, Donovan. I warn you, don't -"
"Shut up."
"What?" Robert narrowed his eyes in disbelief.
"Shut up."
"Donovan! -"
"You fool." Frank's speech was deliberately slow, sharply contrasting the one of Gatille. "What are you holding the girl for? You know you are not going to come out of this so you want to drag her down with you, when all you want is me? What type of a smart kidnapper are you?"
Merrill was shocked. Her eyes widened in bewilderment. Even she didn't dare to talk to Gatille in that way. Somehow she summoned up Frank's death image.
Robert knew it was a trap. Frank was using a negotiation technique that's not too diplomatic. But it was working, and he could not fight against it.
"Merrill, give me the phone." He released his grip on Frank. He'd show him, that captive lying on the bed, bargaining. He'd show him that he's going to win with or without Iris.
Merrill threw a glance at Donovan while giving Gatille the phone. How did the man do it?
Frank was relieved after listening to Gatille's conversation with the team. Gatille was delivering Iris to a nearly parking lot - after threatening them not to show up until midnight, of course, so his men could get out. Robert was intelligent, obviously, but like Neil, "way too emotional" when it comes to pride issues.
A thought came across his mind then: wasn't he the same way?