Bodie's timing was impeccable. His chief had just put the first slices of bread into toaster when there was a familiar knock on the door. "Ach, you... come in."
Mr Cowley couldn't help noticing how strained the dark-haired agent looked. "Any chance for a cup of coffee, Sir? That blasted Hendley got on the move late yesterday-evening and kept me awake the whole bloody night. Found myself ten miles from here so thought to come and have a peek on Anna now as that fuck... damned crook settled down and I got backup to keep an eye on him. Sir, we really have to get more people. It's starting to get quite desperate, you know. They say influenza is coming and if we lose 2-3 men even for a day or two, we're in deep shi... trouble."
The Controller gave his trusted agent a big mug for coffee and gestured towards the table. "Take the toast and help yourself. Aye, I know... But most of the applicants I've checked lately would prove more a liability than an asset."
Bodie gratefully dug into the breakfast-table. "What about the Minister's idea that we could start recruiting outside the usual box, and also have a look on the penpusher-lot? I've been thinking about that, Sir. There might be some talented ones there we know nothing about. At least they would already be security-checked. If we were able to use at least a few of them also on the field occasionally when need be, even for surveillance and such low-risk duties, it would help hell of a lot." Bodie gave a longing look to the pan where there was bacon, and his eyes brightened up by the nodded permission.
His chief sighed while walking to put new bacon on the pan. "We would need more trainers too. Macklin is brilliant with the likes of you, but you know what he's like with people he thinks clumsy, and especially women. And to start with them from scratches..." The Controller was shaking his head. "Either they would end up trying to kill each other, or then we would have a mass escape. I heard the other day that Jackson has already threatened to give her notice, although Macklin is really trying to be patient with her, and she does have some experience already in the Met. Likewise we would need people involved with the investigation-training. Anyway, I do know the situation and talked about it also with the Home Secretary yesterday when he visited me."
Bodie had already emptied his first mug of coffee and poured himself a new one. "Speaking of Macklin, he's been asking about Anna. Says there's something he wants to talk about with her, but refuses to tell me or Ray what it is. Any idea what that could be about, Sir?"
Mr Cowley was already preparing more coffee. He frowned. Another mystery, the comeraderie that had evolved between the feared combat- and arms-instructor and the lady, now so fragile. "I know they were up to something after Anna returned from Mexico after Anita's funeral. Their talks had something to do with that short trip Anna took just before Smythe... somebody was gossiping about Anna's visits to HQ and to the gym, and when I mentioned that to Macklin, he only said that he's got some idea but that he would talk about it later. But with all that happened, I simply haven't remembered the whole thing and Macklin hasn't mentioned it either. Anyway, I'll take Anna with me to the city today, she has an appointment at Stephen's clinic. They take the stitches away and Stephen also talked about X-rays, and should have more test-results. I thought I could do some Christmas-shopping and we might pop in at the HQ also, in case you and Doyle need wider authorizations for the next days, so that you'll be able to demand backup from uniforms if need be. You can tell that to Macklin if you go to HQ."
Bodie finished his second mug and swallowed the last bit of his toast. "How is she?" His voice was quiet.
"Go see for yourself. The downstairs bedroom. And you could help her with the heparin while you're at it."
To the Controller's surprise, Bodie emerged back in a minute, looking as if there was something bothering him. "What is it, lad? Has something happened there?"
Bodie watched him with a strange look in his eyes. "I don't know, Sir."
The older man frowned. "Well what is it?"
Bodie opened his mouth to say something, shut it again, and then coughed. "Probably nothing, Sir. But somehow I just got the impression she's not been sleeping quite all alone. Sir."
His chief calmly sat down and took a swallow from his cup. "Aye, I slept beside her. She asked me to. She has somehow got a fear of darkness. We talked, and she fell asleep, and before that she asked me to stay." His eyes met Bodie's without hesitation. "I remember you asked me once what I took you for. Do I really have to ask you the same?"
After a moment he saw his subordinate's hard eyes soften. "No, Sir. But you're the only one... you'd better not grant anyone else that particular authorization. Anyway, I go wake her up now." And once again the Scot wondered about the extraordinary relationship his still shamelessly womanizing agent had with this particular female.
"All right, Stephen, what's the verdict?"
Dr Stephen Hoskins had pulled his old friend into his office. "Well... as it goes, the wounds have healed quite alright. Even the one where they had the drain tube. X-rays looked pretty much the same as the last ones I saw taken in the hospital. Not much change in bones naturally anyway, and her lungs look pretty much the same, although there I had hoped for some improvement. And her blood tests, the rest I've got the results of, would too make me say mrs Ashton should be in the hospital. She's anaemic, her kidneys are still not working quite normally, and so on. Our consultant endochrinologist got a pink fit when she saw the results and heard the woman is out... Also, your protegée's heart-rate and blood-pressure are just as bad as they were yesterday, even though she's been on her feet, which should have given a better result for at least blood-pressure. There are no heart-murmurs though. So, we took a set of new tests, although I know that some probably won't give a reliable result as she's hasn't fasted, but never mind, it's bloody hell a priority to make her eat. And as she told me she would ask you to allow her do some shopping for Christmas, something incomprehensible about owing you a teddybear, and as I know how women are when they get into shopping-mode, she's now in the drip for fueling her, to be on the safe side, and I also injected her with vitamins, folic acid and just about everything I came to think of. Nevertheless, I would be a hell of a lot happier if she was in hospital, although..." The doctor took away his glasses and rubbed his nose.
"Although what?"
The old friend put his glasses back on and gave the Controller a curious look. "What has happened overnight, George? She was dead 16 hours ago. Walking but dead. All right, still she's very ill. Very fragile, injured, damaged, able to collapse or give up any damned minute as far as I can tell. But something about her eyes makes me think she might, just might gain, or have, the interest to try to come out from her... you know, personal camp, whatever it is, and that will be essential for her physical recovery also. I'm no psychiatrist, yet I saw those eyes more than enough to tell the difference. But what caused it?"
The Controller took a breath and shrugged. "Can't tell... She has developed a fear of darkness and told me about it yesterday... so we talked before she fell asleep. Maybe that has something to do with it."
The doctor hemmed. "So she's afraid of darkness now. Does she sleep alone in her room?"
Mr Cowley remembered her solitary room in the hospital and shrugged again. "Usually, yes."
Stephen took his glasses off again and started to wipe the lenses with a hankie. "There's always an exception to "usually". So did she sleep alone last night?"
His friend raised a leery eyebrow but replied: "No, not last night. I stayed with her."
Dr Hoskins leaned back, content. "Ahh... And what did you talk about?"
Mr Cowley frowned. "None of your damn business, actually. But generally, we talked about fears, pains... war. The camp."
Mr Cowley saw his friend smile. "Well I say, hardly too common subjects to talk about in bed with a pretty woman of a younger generation." The elderly medic grew serious again. "Yet, hardly a too common situation either. I think most psychiatrists would get a fit if they knew about your topic. Still, it may well be that your instinct there was absolutely right. There's the fact that the young lady probably realised she is not completely alone. That there may be someone with some kind of an understanding on what she is going through. First hand understanding, not only something learned from books or lectures. And of course, the simple comfort of company should never be underestimated."
The Scot raised an eyebrow again. "And I was dead certain you would start picking on me."
His friend waved a hand at him. "I leave that to better moments. Besides, I know you well enough. You are a crooked bastard at times alright but you're not evil. And I know that you knew all too well what you were talking about. Didn't know though that your men are handy with needles, George. Mrs Ashton informed me in quite straightforward manner, that your agent was better in injecting her with heparin than I am with any substance. The day she claims I have a fetish or mania to needles, I know she'll be all right."
Agent Susan Fischer stepped into the Controller's office. Three heads rose from the papers immediately. "Where's Anna?"
The female agent, who had for once been given a thoroughly enjoyable assignment, grinned at Bodie's worried look. "Oh she was hijacked by Macklin the moment we got back in from Harrods. I told Macklin she's supposed to have something to eat right now, as you ordered, Sir. So I gather he took her to the cantine, also judging by the fact that Macklin complained something about you never taking proper care of her nutrition, Bodie. Oh and he said you'll find them at the range after that. Where can I put these, Sir?" She had three big bags with all sorts of packages and a huge teddybear under her arm.
"Just... leave them anywhere here."
Ray was stunned. "Range? Why the devil would Macklin take her there? Is he out of his mind?"
Susan swallowed what she wanted to say about Macklin's notorious mind in general. "Don't know. He just said that Anna's the only woman he's happy to see right now, and then they were going already. Anna looked just as baffled as you. And Bodie, keep your fingers off those parcels." Her stare was icy.
About an hour later the three men quietly sneaked in at the shooting range. They didn't see anything out of the ordinary at first and the noise made them quickly protect their ears. First tracks were used by Jax and a couple of other older agents training, but they soon noticed Macklin standing his arms crossed, watching the last two tracks. Alert as ever, the trainer picked up their arrival and gestured them to stay unnoticeable. And so they did, watching Anna with tiny gestures and touches correct the posture of a woman they recognized as Jackson, one of the latest recruits. After a series of ten shots, Anna checked the target, shook her head, exchanged a few words with the woman, and after a moment of consideration, picked up another gun from a table and loaded it for the woman, again gently correcting her aim and exchanging a few words with her, seemingly explaining something. A new series of shots, still a bit of shaking the head, new discussion, a new magazine, new aim, and Anna walking slowly round the woman, finally correcting her posture from behind. And after that round, less shaking of head, and more explaining.
They were able to read Jackson's lips. "Could you please show me yourself?" Anna hesitated and gestured at her shoulder, but then shrugged and took the gun from Jackson. They saw her try and take the aim, grimacing of pain and letting her arms fall. She said something to Jackson, and then gestured to Macklin, who instantly was by her side, listening to her. And to their amazement, they saw the rough trainer step on the right side of Anna, gently supporting her upper arm and elbow with his hand when she took aim again and fired a quick series of shots. After that Anna was grimacing again, shaking her head in pain, and Macklin quickly took the gun from her and asked something with a worried look on his face. Macklin! But only a moment after, they were watching the hits to the target, and Anna was showing and explaining something about her grip to the other woman, who after that took a new aim, and they continued with that gun. A couple of minutes later Macklin tapped Anna's arm and said something to her, and she shrugged and continued with the woman while Macklin briskly walked to Cowley, Bodie and Ray.
"She's a damn natural, I mean Anna." Macklin needed to almost shout to make himself heard over the echoing shots. "Now I'm finally starting to believe I get something out of Jackson. Anna was the first to realise the problem was the grip, and now Jackson is getting somewhere at the range. Bloody hell, using a Sig didn't cross my mind at all! Both Jackson and I were ready to quit..." Macklin was shaking his head. "I'm no good with these women, Mr Cowley. They can't take me and I can't take them if they are not ready. Can you give us 15 minutes more?" Without even waiting for any reply, he put his protectors back on and was off to the tracks again. Finally they saw how checking the target, the two women smiled at each other and Anna gave a thumbs-up. Even Macklin was nodding. Then he gestured towards the three men, grabbed the used targets and all three came to meet them.
They all moved to the sound-proof office. Macklin threw the pile of targets on the table. "First is on the top now. Take a look. Four guns used, starting with the regular Smith&Wesson she's used this far."
It was easy to see the progress from quite erratic first rounds to the last where the worst shot was an eight. "Happy with your session, Jackson?" Bodie gave the tall red-haired woman a merry smile.
"Why, yes, agent Bodie. Best this far." The look she threw at Macklin wasn't the friendliest. "The last gun felt best in my hand. I've never shot with that one before. Almost everyone used Wessons in my old squad."
Macklin nudged Anna. "You happy with her, Missie?"
Anna nodded. "She'll be an excellent shot with some more practise, now as she found the gun and the aim for herself. Next thing to find is a better fitting holster and harness. Agent Jackson, you need to get more strength to the muscles of your upper back and shoulders. That will also help you stabilize your aim. Oh and you also need to learn to relax your neck and shoulders. Macklin will help you in those things if you don't find a gym for workout." That didn't make the woman look too happy but she nodded anyway.
"How was your round then, Anna?" Ray was curious.
Anna shook her head. "Could only make one and even that with Mac's heavy support. Not perfect anyway."
Macklin threw at the table the one target he'd been holding in his hand. "Yeah, not perfect." Out of ten shots, five were niners and five tens. All three looked at the target in silence, remembering the agonized grimace.
"How's your shoulder now?" Mr Cowley detected pain in her eyes still.
"In the need of a pill, but it will be all right."
Bodie gestured towards the door. "You'd better have that pill right away."
Macklin agreed. "Take care, Missie. And I trust you men keep an eye on her, hm? She must not over-strain herself. I'd rec you take her to the rest-rooms for a while before she sets off, and see that she has a lie down. Looks like standing here was quite enough excercise for her today. Sorry 'bout that, Anna, but I really needed assistance. Sir, I'd like to have a word with you now as you're here. Your office in 15?" The Controller nodded and Macklin left with Jackson to collect their gear.
On their way back to the main building, Ray couldn't help commenting. "Listen Anna, you seemed to do fine with Jackson there. Have you taught shooting to many?"
Anna thought for a moment. "To no-one actually. Jack took care of his guys and most of them used rifles or subs anyway. And I haven't taught women anything. It feels... different. I just tried to remember what old Manuel and Grandpa did with me." She shrugged. "Anyway, I wish Jackson remembers what I told her, that will help her a lot with Macklin if it succeeds."
Bodie got curious. "What did you say then?"
Anna gave him a wry glance. "I told her that Mac's not that bad if she only tries and sets her brain into a very male, very tubular mode. And a very narrow tube of that." All three men were stunned mute for a moment before they started to chuckle.
George Cowley could see Anna was feeling a little nervous when they were walking in the corridor. They had already visited the UCLH and left their gifts to the children's ward, and Anna had insisted they should visit an animal-shelter she had got familiar with, where she had left an envelope, the content of which had made the lady responsible for the shelter try to give her an embrace which pained Anna cut short. Also they had finished shopping, and the boot of the Granada harboured a turkey waiting for an oven, but as Anna was starting to look very exhausted again, the Scot had decided to go for the easy solutions otherwise. For once, his refridgerator would be overflowing as he had told Anna he'd invite Bodie and Doyle for a Christmas dinner. It might be fun, for a change, and the two had been working so hard lately that they deserved some small reward for it. The past months they'd been having more responsibility than before in their careers, but they had grown into it. As he had known they would. But the lack of field agents... that was a problem. A very serious one. He really should think carefully about Macklin's idea. But not right now.
"Why so nervous, Anna?"
She gave mr Cowley an embarrassed glance. "I didn't know you had planned this for today. My hair is all dirty... I would have wanted to have a decent shower at least and get my hair done because I can't do it myself. I have to get it cut short."
Ach, women. Mr Cowley couldn't help smiling. He normally would be annoyed about the female whims, but this little sign of vanity felt so welcomed. "Never you mind, he's not that fussy."
Anna looked worried, taking a glimpse on the bag with parcels, the Scot was carrying. "Do you think he's going to like it?" She had asked it at least three times already.
"I'm positive, Anna. He loves art. Stop worrying. Here, the next turn to the right. He's usually there this time of afternoon when there's still light."
They entered a hall full of light with huge French doors opening to a wintery garden. A few elderly people were sitting here and there, but the Controller's direction was towards someone who was sitting in a wheelchair facing the garden, gray-haired head bowed down. "Colonel?"
The head jerked up and the wheelchair turned. "George!" The gray-haired man who seemingly was about 10 years older than Mr Cowley, tossed a pad of paper and pencil aside on a table. "Good to see you, good to see you lad!" They greeted each other in a subtle and hearty manner. Then the older man's gaze caught Anna, who had stayed behind. "Och my goodness. Such a weary-looking but sweet sight for me sore old eyes. I know you can be tiresome, George, but I didn't think you'd get a young lady so exhausted. Say, how on earth have you caught this bonnie lass?"
Anna stepped forward. "Oh, easily. He got me under arrest." There was something about this old man which appealed to her immediately.
"You devious man! Now I know why you wanted the force of your own. Arrests!" The old man chuckled. "Now, love, you sit down, no, take that chair, it's more comfortable I've been told. And George, you can bugger off for a while and get the lady and us some refreshments, I'll take good care of her in the meantime. We have a brand new cafeteria right behind the corner there but if you don't mind, I'd rather sit here. Och... by the way, we haven't been introduced, dear lady. Please forgive me my lack of manners, but I haven't had such young beautiful lady visitors for a while, only old ugly boring men like Morris here and I got absolutely disoriented."
Mr Cowley gave a broad smile. "Anna, this gruff old toad is Colonel Malcolm Fairfax. Malcolm, please do behave and say hello to mrs Anna Ashton."
There was an immediate change in the attitude of the older man. "Mrs Ashton..." he took both her hands into his, and squeezed them gently. "George has told me about you. I do so wish you didn't mind my joking."
Anna smiled. The first real, warm smile in her eyes the Controller had seen for ages. "Not at all, Sir. I have managed to depress everybody around me so severely for such a long time, that it's only refreshing to inspire some jokes. So please do carry on, Colonel."
The older man chuckled again. "Aye, I'll do my very best! Now George, be a good lad and get us some tea and scones, eh?"
A couple of hours later the men noticed Anna had hard time trying to keep her eyes open. "George, I think it's time you take the lady home. We seem to bore her to death."
Anna straightened up. "Oh no, Sir, not at all. I've totally enjoyed myself. It's just that I'm... tired."
Malcolm had a tender look in his eyes. "Aye, lass, that's easy to see. I trust George and his boys have been taking good care of you?"
Anna sighed. "Yes Sir, they have. A lot better than I would have deserved."
The old man saw her eyes get brighter with tears. And a lot better than you would have wanted, eh, lass? He felt a pang of compassion. "If you need to powder your nose before you leave, it's the second door to the left there on that corridor."
Anna gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Sir." She rose and left to the pointed direction.
The men were quiet until they saw her close the said door behind her. "Och bloody hell, George..."
The older Scot was shaking his head and the Controller sighed. "Aye, I know, Malcolm. She should be in the hospital still."
The officer rubbed his brow. "I don't want to even ask why she is out, as I know no quack would have let her voluntarily. Not in her condition. But you are keeping an eye on her, aren't you?"
The younger man heard the urgency and nodded. "We are. She's staying with me, and is under CI5's eyes practically at all times. And Stephen is monitoring her well-being daily."
Malcolm nodded, relieved. Then he thought for a while. "If you were someone else, George, I would say that it's a small wonder that she tolerates being anywhere near you or your lot, even if it wasn't voluntary. And if she was someone else, I would really wonder why you bother. But I can see why you like her, even beside the natural gratitude. Besides, there is something about her that reminds me of you, old boy."
Anna returned in time to hear the last sentence. "Oh please, Sir, not you too!"
That made the Colonel give a curious look and the Controller laugh. "What's that about, George?" The old man soon was wiping tears of mirth from his face as his friend told him about the encounter with the Home Secretary. "Good lass! Well done! I've always thought he's an idiot! By Jove, George, are you really sure she's not your daughter?"
They were taking their leave soon after. "Now, dearie, I can't even begin to tell you how happy I am that I got this opportunity to meet you."
The Colonel held Anna's hands again and got a fond kiss on his cheek. "Sir, the pleasure was all mine. Would you mind terribly if I popped in sometimes again?" She carefully hid the pain that was caused by her bow.
The old man was delighted. "Och love, you are welcomed any day, with or without that pest of a Glaswegian. And thank you once again for the book. It will be a pleasure to look at with a wee dram of George's malt."
The younger Scot raised his finger. "But only one glass a day, remember? Otherwise we'll be banned for ever. And your drawings turn into some damned ism nobody understands anything about." A smile lingered on Anna's lips still, when she fell asleep in her seat in the Granada.
On his way to the stakeout Bodie had brought them a nice Christmas tree which had caught his eye in the city, and it was now settling in a spare room till tomorrow. The two men had managed between them to coax Anna to finish her plate at the dinner and eat some fruits for dessert. And after Bodie left, the stammering and embarrassed woman told her host that she would love to have a good long shower, now as the doctor had given her the permission, but would need help with her hair afterwards as she wasn't able to use her right arm well enough to brush it. That made the Scot wonder how extremely hard it seemed to be for her, to ask for help in any matter, or admit weakness of any kind, but he simply handed her a big towel and adviced her to run the water for at least one minute to settle it, before stepping under the shower.
"How does it feel to be without the bandage and those stitches?"
Flushed and tired Anna in her bathrobe was leaning carefully against the back of an armchair, feeling the warmth of the fire, and feeling the brush move in her long moist hair with soothing strokes. "A bit more sore about the ribs, but they said it would probably be so for a while as the support is gone. Dr Hoskins did hesitate some with removing the bandages but he said I should be ok if there come no new blows. And it feels nice that the stitches don't tickle, or get stuck to clothes or need a dressing. Maybe I could even sleep on my back tonight."
She grew embarrassed again. "Sir, I'm really sorry, that I needed to ask you for this. The nurse gave a thorough brush before I left but I haven't been able to... or cared, really..." Anna felt the Scot's fingers separating strands of hair in her neck where the brush got stuck.
"Och, this isn't so different from grooming a horse's mane or tail, I used to be actually quite good at it as a lad." He hoped making light of it would wear out her futile and silly embarassment, and was delighted to hear a quiet chuckle.
"Well I've been called many names, but this is the first time I am a horse. In that case I wish I was a Shire or a Clydesdale, they are so enormously strong and big and yet so very beautiful." She started finally relax a bit.
"I'm sure that the lads and I like you best as the Arabian you are. Maybe not to pull beer barrels, but damn fast, smart, pretty and gutsy." The Scot noticed Anna squeeze her eyes shut. Och dammit. Without even thinking, he started to divide the hair with his fingers and the brush, and braid it. His fingers quickly remembered the old pattern and in a few minutes he got to tie the end of the braid with a band he found amongst Anna's combs and brushes. "There you are, that would certainly have secured a prize in the annual farmer's fair. Or not. But now, help yourself to music, lass. I think I have a shower too, if you don't mind." He patted gently Anna's better shoulder.
When he returned drying his head to a towel, he heard piano, and saw Anna standing in front of a window. "Well well, Sibelius... The Spruce?" He went into the kitchen and poured juice into glasses.
Anna turned her head a little. "I haven't listened to it for ages... not after my parents died. My mother loved Sibelius. She was born a Finn although her family moved to the States when she was four. But one thing she kept was the music. I couldn't... haven't been able to listen to it ever since..."
He moved to stand beside her and handed her the drink. "Why now?"
She took a long swallow and bowed her head. "I don't know. Maybe the braid, she used to wear them every now and then... Maybe because of everything..."
Maybe because you hurt so much that you are numb, lass.
The music changed. Anna emptied her glass. "Anna... can I ask you something?" She nodded. "Why did you do it? Why did you stay in the hospital that day?"
He saw Anna raise her eyebrows. "Hasn't Bodie told you?"
He shrugged, having read the report over and over again after questioning Bodie. "Aye, but I just would like to hear it from you. If you remember."
He gently led Anna sit on the sofa. She took a deep breath. "We heard you'd had an accident. The fall. I was with Bodie in the car when the alarm came, he had picked me up for lunch, and he turned back to drive to the hospital, as Ray was already at the scene of the accident. And I simply had a bad feeling about it. Maybe because I had been restless the whole morning. Everything suggested you had tripped and fallen but... I don't know. It didn't feel right and I had a row with Bodie about it." She shouted at me like a she-devil, Sir. That you're old enough to have learned to watch your step and mind slippery places. I just couldn't get her out from there. So I thought what the hell, let her wait if it's so fu...bloody important to her. None of us was in our best moods, Sir. And I simply didn't have anyone to spare to stay at the hospital at that moment for more than an hour.
"Aye, Bodie mentioned something about that."
"So I stayed. That's all."
Mr Cowley fetched the juice-jug and poured them more. "Would you mind telling me about the rest?"
It looked like she did mind, but after a while she reluctantly continued. "I thought I would wait until you'd wake up properly after they fixed your head. Bodie arranged me the permission. I took a seat in the corner to not bother the nurses who popped in every now and then at first. And also as it was a blind spot from corridor windows and from the door. And then the first man came, in a white jacket, he didn't notice me, didn't expect anyone as he probably knew the agents had left. He went to fiddle with your drips and when I asked what he was about, he turned to me and his hand went under his jacket." Mark Brewster, ex-SAS with advanced medic training. Suspect for a kill during a bar-brawl in Hong Kong in '83 but released due to lack of evidence. Nobody dared to testify. Deep in debts, rumoured to be a hitman. Jesus, I should have given her my gun. That circles in my head over and over again. I should have bloody hell at least given her my fucking gun!
"He was too slow. I managed to get him off balance and he hit the back of his hand and dropped his gun. We fought for a while but when he was down, I managed to hit his head hard enough to knock him out, and got on my feet to grab his gun. Then the door opened and that guy stepped in. I recognized him too quickly. That gave him the opportunity..." He had to silence them both as Anna had seen him with you, Sir.
"He chose the wrong order, though, shooting the man first. I was too surprised to act really, but when he turned the gun I maybe managed to move a little, yet he had time to fire before I got to aim." They say the first shot was from in front of her. It already scraped the top of her right lung but went through.
"I lost my grip of the gun, funny as it didn't hurt really, not yet. I was on my feet against the wall but knew I wouldn't have a chance. Only could stall him, managed to kick the instrument trolley at his feet. That shouldn't have startled him but it did." He probably started to panic as he hadn't expected resistance. And he hadn't been on the field that much. Bloody viper.
"I was out of breath, couldn't shout. And didn't really much care anymore. Only... tried to do at least something for you." He had panicked and fled after the alarm. The first nurse had seen a man running but couldn't give a good description. They found Brewster with a bullet-hole in his head. And Anna on your bed three more bullets to her back. You were practically intact, with that one small flesh-wound to your side from that other bullet that had gone through. She had managed to cover your upper body and head so that the bastard didn't get clean shots, he'd been too panicked to come close enough when the monitors started to scream as she had ripped some wires or whatever off. She had regained consciousness for a moment when they started to move her. Managed to scribble a few words. Aye, he had stared at that bloodied piece of paper a dozen times. JAMES GARNER BETTY
"That's all there was to it."
Aye, for Anna maybe. She had opened her eyes for the first time five days later. But as sharp Betty had remembered there had been an occasion several weeks earlier when they had joked about a James Garner lookalike Anna had seen while visiting the HQ, and found the name in her desk calendar, hell had broken loose. Sighing, the Controller thought about the chaos that had followed when it had dawned to Bodie and Doyle that a MI5 -official was involved in attempt to murder the head of CI5. It had turned dirty... very dirty. Lads had caught Smythe quickly, but unless he himself hadn't been able to testify about his fall, when he woke up a few hours later, and about his suspicions on some of Smythe's actions, higher ranking Franks, of whom he had had no clue about before Smythe broke and started to talk, might have got a chance to flee or cover his tracks - and to arrange someone to get rid of Smythe.
The bastards would have had no chance to get at him or Anna in the hospital though, as desperate Bodie, in agreement with Murphy, both unable to be sure who to trust, and who already had needed to call in people from their day-offs, had pulled an unconventional card. Bodie had called Anna's old friend, the Mexican military attaché, who then with some of his men guarded over Anna while some of the most trustworthy agents watched over mr Cowley, until he was grudginly admitted out a few days later. The Minister – a few of those in fact - would have had a stroke, hearing about armed foreigners in the hospital, but luckily they had managed to keep their guns a secret.
Mr Cowley pulled his thoughts back to present day. He asked softly: "Why did you forbid visits for all that time?"
She looked even more weary. "Please, Sir... I don't want to talk about it." How appropriate, the Valse Triste in the background.
"You wanted us to take distance from you, am I right? So that we would start to feel a little hurt maybe, and wouldn't miss you, or ask about you? But would let go of you easier?"
She rose to her feet again and took her glass to kitchen. He followed, gentle but persistent. "I can't say that I would know how it feels to lose a child. After everything else you had lost already. But I can understand you wanted to let go. And to wake up having all those tubes... Och, lass, I can't blame you. I might have felt the same if I were you. But I can't blame the doctors either, for doing all they did for you. Or the lads, for doing what they did. And I certainly hope you some day can forgive us for this."
She refused to look at him. "I apologize, Sir."
He nudged her arm. "For saving my life?"
She shook her head. "Of course not. But that was mere luck. For... for all the trouble and problems I've caused. For being a... bother."
He grabbed her by her shoulder and turned her, taking her chin and forcing her to look at him. "How can you say that? How can you even think that way?" But the misery and fright he saw in her eyes made his anger melt away just as quickly as it had surfaced. "You are no bother. Worry you are alright." He wrapped his arms around her. "Worry, because you are precious to us. We can't let you go anymore. And as there's nothing you can do about it, it's best you try to get used to the thought. I'm sorry, child. I'm sorry." He was.
It took a minute before he felt her responding to his embrace and he wondered how much room there was for tears in a human life.
END OF CHAPTER 2