Chapter 7
Megan shifted uncomfortably in the chair.
Her finger throbbed. He had been unnecessarily rough, ripping her ring off.
She thought sadly of the ring. It was one of her favorites. She'd had it since high school. It was a gift from her grandmother, but its value was all sentimental. It wasn't worth anything, it didn't even look like it would be worth something — why had he wanted it so badly?
She didn't know where she was, or why she was there. She had left the cottage for an early-morning swim before breakfast, but she never got to the pool. She was chatting with another guest in the locker room … she'd thought it was another guest, anyway. Then there was a hand clapped over her mouth, a chloroform-soaked handkerchief, a brief struggle … and then she was here, waking up in this chair, and that idiot was ripping her ring off.
She wondered how long she had been here. Long enough so that the intense headache had dulled to an occasional throb. Long enough to need a trip to the bathroom. Long enough to hope David, Don and Archie were going to find her, soon.
She heard the key turning in the lock and her head jerked up as the door opened. Her eyes widened, and her heart fell.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
At first, Alan was frantic to get into the room, relieved beyond measure that they said he could spend a full hour with Charlie.
Then, he was frantic to get out.
The ice packs remained.
The monitor showed his temperature holding steady at 103, his heart rate not far behind. Although not alert, Charlie had come out of the coma enough to feel — there wasn't enough pain medication in the world to prevent that — and every exhale was an agonized moan, the sound tearing at Alan's ears over and over.
He rested a hand on his son's hot forehead and tried to sooth him.
Charlie looked worse than he had this morning. If they were letting him stay for an entire hour, it must be because they didn't expect him to live through the night.
So Alan used his hour. He used it to channel the heartbreak and terror and frustration of the last four days into white-hot, blinding anger, not caring if that anger somehow transmitted itself to Charlie. Hoping, in fact, that it did. Let Charlie pick up some of his anger. If he understood, on some level, sensed how angry he was, maybe he would be concerned enough to come back and find out why. Failing that, maybe the energy of it would refuel him for another battle.
Alan was careful to say the right things, to assure Charlie countless times that he was loved. He was wanted. He was needed. He was missed.
But Alan was angry. Alan was angry, and he didn't care if Charlie knew that.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
"I suppose I should thank you for taking my call."
He had let the anger propel him out of Charlie's room after an hour, out into the front lobby of the hospital, where his cell phone would work. He had been momentarily surprised when the secretary said she would put him through to Director Merrick, but the anger had quickly resurfaced.
"Mr. Eppes, I apologize. I've been out of the country. Your calls should have been routed to the Assistant Director."
"I need to reach my son, and my daughter-in-law. Now."
"I understand. Again, I apologize. When I returned to the office this afternoon and saw the reports, I assumed the operation had been terminated. The A.D. should have sent an extrication team right away. I assure you that he will be dealt with. The A.D. is currently suspended without pay pending an investigation. I sent an extrication team immediately, via chopper, to expedite the return of Agents Eppes and Travis."
The flood of relief almost put out the fire of anger. Almost. "Thank God. When did the team leave? How far away is the operation? When will Don and Archie be back? Charlie is very ill."
In the millisecond of silence, Alan felt the air change.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Eppes, I received communication from the extrication team just a few minutes before your call. I'm very sorry."
Alan tried to grab the anger. It was receding under a wall of fear. "What is it?"
Director Merrick sounded truly disturbed. "When the team got there, the four Agents already in place — including Agents Eppes and Travis — were not where they were supposed to be. Mr. Eppes, I'm truly sorry to tell you this. Your son, your daughter-in-law, Megan Reeves and David Sinclair — they've disappeared."
Alan didn't feel the cell slip from his hand, but he watched in fascination as it shattered on the floor.
And then he soundlessly followed.