Chapter Fourteen

McCall sat and watched Barbara sleep. He was worried that the nightmares might reappear, now that the dammed business with the prison had been stirred up again. However, she seemed to be sleeping quietly, so he decided he could leave for a couple of hours. He needed to get a hotel room; he needed a shower and a shave; he needed a change of clothes; and he also needed some sleep.

Before he left Barbara's floor, he told the head nurse that he would be back by 8:30, in case she asked for him, and that he would call as soon as he had a hotel room, so they could reach him if necessary. Then he went down to Barbara's car and drove to a small hotel Dr. Ramirez had recommended. It was about ten minutes away. He checked in, called the hospital with his telephone number, asked for a wake-up call at 8:00, lay down and was asleep immediately.

Just after he got home from the hospital, Alonzo Garcia had a call from FBI Headquarters informing him that one of the higher ups in the Bureau would be attending the meeting with the Germans. Garcia asked how many Germans were coming, since he'd been told earlier that one was coming. No, there were two Germans: one from the embassy, and one who was flying in from Bonn, an important person from the Bundesnachrichtendienst. As he was falling asleep, Garcia wondered how much bigger this mess Robert McCall and his wife had gotten themselves—and him—into would get.

When McCall arrived back at the hospital around 8:30, as promised, Barbara was still asleep. He hoped Garcia would not show up for their "conversation," but he doubted his hope would be fulfilled. The man had a job to do, and he was probably feeling pressure from all sides. Plus he was still in charge of the peace conference, which started tomorrow, Wednesday. McCall was certainly glad he was not in his friend's shoes. He sat for a few minutes at Barbara's bedside, then went out into the corridor to wait for Garcia.

Shortly before 9:00, Garcia stepped off the elevator at the sixth floor. He had a half hour to interview Barbara Williams if he was to get back to his office in time to meet the German deputation. He saw McCall waiting for him.

"Good morning, Robert," he said, shaking hands with the older man.

"Alonzo," McCall replied.

"How is she?" Garcia asked.

"Sleeping."

Garcia frowned. "You knew I was coming, Robert. I've only got thirty minutes."

"I know, Alonzo. But I wanted to let her sleep as long as possible. I'll warn you, she's still drugged. She might not be able to say much."

Garcia didn't like this, but he might have to consider himself lucky that she was able to talk at all, given what had happened earlier this morning.

"Yes, I suppose there's nothing we can do about that," he began, putting his hand on McCall's arm. "I didn't have a chance to tell you last night, Robert. You have a pretty remarkable wife. Thank goodness she's OK."

"You're right, Alonzo. She is remarkable. I just wish the whole thing were over," McCall said in a tired voice.

Garcia smiled a tight smile. "I do too, Robert, I do too."

McCall shrugged his shoulders slightly, returned the tight smile, and said: "I'll go wake Barbara."

It took a little time for Barbara to realize that Robert was trying to wake her up. She didn't want to wake up. The drugs were still flowing through her body, and her mind was at rest for a change. All she wanted to do was continue to drift along, oblivious to the world. But Robert kept talking to her, making her pay attention. Damn, she thought, just let me sleep. Finally she opened her eyes.

"Robert, stop. Let me sleep," she said petulantly.

"I'm sorry, Barbara, but you have to wake up, at least for a little while. Garcia is here to talk to you about the German." If only he could let her sleep, McCall thought. It was simply not possible.

The German. The watcher. No, she thought, she didn't want to talk about him. She wanted to banish him from her mind, not tell someone about him.

"No, I don't want to talk about him. Tell him what I told you."

"There's nothing I'd like to do more, my love, but it won't do. He insists on talking to you," McCall said, taking her hand. "Just tell him the barest essentials."

She looked at him, tears starting in her eyes. She hated to cry. She especially didn't want to cry now; Garcia would detect the traces of her tears. But she didn't seem to be able to control herself. Probably the drugs, she told herself.

McCall noticed the tears, and he knew how much she hated to cry. Softly touching her face, he said: "Barbara, let's just get it over with. Then you don't have to talk about it ever again."

She nodded, pulling herself together. It wouldn't take long. Then she could forget him, she told herself. She was lying; she knew she would never truly forget him. But the lie would get her through this moment.

After a quick kiss for Barbara, McCall went to the door and let Garcia in.

"Hello, Dr. Williams. I hope you're feeling better?"

"Agent Garcia, let's get this over with," Barbara responded as forcefully as she could.

"Fine, Dr. Williams," he replied. "Please tell me exactly what happened yesterday, starting when you and Karl Frenzel met in the lobby."

"We did not 'meet' in the lobby, Agent Garcia. He came up to me and pushed a pistol into my ribs. I wouldn't call that 'meeting,'" Barbara snapped at him.

"Point taken."

"He told me to walk to the elevators, or he would kill me right there."

"Did you have any idea why this man would want to kill you?"

"Not really. I recognized him from Bautzen, but I didn't know anything more. I didn't know he was with the BND," she said truthfully.

"But you did recognize him immediately?"

"Yes," Barbara said firmly.

"No question in your mind?"

"No question."

"Please continue."

"We got on the elevator. Robert got on with us. I was surprised, because I didn't know Robert had followed me to Miami." She glanced at her husband with a small smile.

Barbara went on: "When we got off, the German told me to move toward room 518. He gave me the key and told me to open the door. Once I heard the lock click open, I dove forward, hoping that Robert would get him before he could shoot me." She again glanced toward her husband. "Unfortunately our timing was off. The German shot me before Robert was able to shoot him."

"I'm very sorry, my dear. Our timing WAS off," McCall said to his wife apologetically.

"That's all there is. He tried to kill me, and Robert killed him." Barbara tried to make this statement sound final.

"What do you think would have happened if you had not forced the issue?" Garcia knew this question would come up later.

"I don't understand." Barbara did understand, but she was still trying to stop the interview.

"What if you had gone into the room? Maybe he just wanted to talk to you?"

"No, Agent Garcia. He told me he was going to kill me in the room." This wasn't quite the truth, but Barbara didn't care. She knew he was planning to kill her in that room, even if he hadn't said it directly.

"We only have your word for that, Dr. Williams." The Germans would surely raise this issue, too.

Now McCall spoke up. "For God's sake, Alonzo, the man shot her. In the back. He didn't want to talk to her. He wanted to eliminate her so she could not identify him. It is absolutely self-evident!" He was angry. This was getting out of hand, and he wanted it stopped.

"Calm down, Robert," Garcia admonished McCall, putting up his hand. "You know as well as I do that others are going to ask these same questions."

"'Others,' like the people you're meeting later?" McCall demanded.

"Yes, like them. I have to give them answers," he insisted. Turning back to Barbara he said: "They will also want to know if you are positive it's the same man."

"Yes, I am positive." How many more times was she going to have to say this, she wondered?

"It was a long time ago."

"I am positive." Barbara stared at him. Damn it, she thought, for once she was telling a policeman the whole truth, and he didn't believe her.

Garcia returned her stare for a moment. Actually, he did believe her; he just didn't know if the others would. Finally he dropped his gaze. His watch told him it was time to leave for the 10:00 meeting.

"All right, that's all. Thank you. I hope you can get some rest." Garcia sympathized with Barbara Williams.

Barbara nodded and closed her eyes.

"Good luck at the meeting," McCall told Agent Garcia.

"I'll need it," he said grimly and left.

Barbara had been so focused on answering Garcia's questions that she didn't realize that she had pushed the pain out of her mind. Now it came rushing back, and she groaned.

McCall looked at her in dismay. "Are you all right?"

"Do you think you can get them to up the pain meds, please? It's hurting a lot," she asked shakily.

Just as Barbara was posing her question, Dr. Ramirez walked into the room accompanied by the nurse on duty for Barbara's room, Alva Carson. The doctor had seen Garcia leaving the room, and he was not pleased. She was supposed to be resting, not talking with the FBI.

"Good morning, Dr. Williams," he began. "How are you feeling?"

"Ah, well, OK. But I could use a little more morphine or whatever you're giving me. Every part of my body seems to hurt," she said through gritted teeth.

"You did have an eventful night. Falling on the floor probably didn't do your body much good." He made a note on the chart he was carrying. "Mrs. Carson, would you please take care of it?" Carson nodded and left.

"Now, would you tell me what Agent Garcia was doing here?" he said sternly.

McCall looked at Barbara and answered: "He had to talk to Barbara about the shooting yesterday. The man was a German national security operative, and the Germans are giving Garcia a hard time about it."

Ramirez shook his head. "I should have been informed. I would have had a few choice words for Agent Garcia." He didn't appreciate interference with his patients, from the FBI or anyone else. "Well, it's over now, I suppose."

Carson returned with the additional pain meds.

Barbara sighed. Soon it would be better.

"Dr. Williams, let me take a look at your back," Ramirez said.

Oh, shit, Barbara swore to herself and moaned, thinking: Here we go again. Once more holding her breath, she braced herself as Ramirez and Carson turned her on her side. Just hurry up, she told them, hoping they would receive her telepathic signals.

Ramirez examined the wound and the sutures. "Good, it looks just fine. It shouldn't take too long for it to heal." They turned her onto her back.

McCall had watched the pain in Barbara's face. If only this would be over, he thought. He wanted to get back to New York, to their comfortable apartment, to his job, to a normal life. Well, as normal as their life ever was, he reminded himself.

"I think we should all leave and let Dr. Williams rest," Ramirez said looking pointedly at McCall. It wasn't a suggestion; it was an order.

"I'll just be a moment," McCall countered the doctor's order.

Ramirez glared at him, but let it pass. He and Carson left.

Barbara looked at McCall and said: "Robert, there's something I want you to do for me."

"What, my dear?"

"To get some sleep. Did you find a hotel?" McCall shook his head yes. "Good, then go there and sleep. I'll be fine."

"Is that an order, Barbara?" He smiled.

"Yes, Robert, it is an order. Come back later this afternoon."

McCall knew he needed the sleep. The short rest he had gotten this morning was not enough. When he was thirty he could go forever. At sixty-two, it just didn't work.

He bent down and kissed Barbara. "I'll see you this afternoon."

She smiled and closed her eyes. McCall left the room. Making sure the head nurse had the telephone number at his hotel, McCall left the hospital, relishing the idea of a few hours of uninterrupted sleep.