The Historians

Chapter 17

"Tell Kitty I…"

The words Matt had said kept running around in Allen Cranbourne's head.

He could see that the wound in his friend's chest was a bad one, already there was a lot of blood on his shirt and a small puddle was beginning to form on the ground. With that kind of ammunition these people could take over a whole city and maybe more.

Fifteen minute response time, the Agency had always promised him, sometimes less. He hoped this time it would be less.

At last he heard something way in the distance, there was a bright spotlight in the sky and the sound of rotor blades chopping the air. The light got lower and lower and finally disappeared behind some trees about a mile or so away. The sound, too, settled to become a slower regular beat and he knew the helicopter had landed. It was still a way off – probably nearer the road where there was enough room to put it down safely. A few more minutes passed before he heard the loud engine of an ATV heading towards the signal from the little box he had placed on the ground. He could see the headlights flashing and dimming as the vehicle bounced between trees and over the rocky terrain, carrying its riders to their destination.

He could see now, that there were four men riding on the noisy machine, one seated and the other three just hanging on the outside. Before it even stopped completely, two of the men jumped off carrying four large bags of equipment, one of which they unfolded to form a stretcher. His friend seemed to be unconscious now. He carried a terrible pain inside knowing that this man risked his life to save him. Why did he do that? They had only met a week or so ago, it was not like they were brothers or even close friends.

He heard them working on Dillon. They were cutting his jacket to get to his arms. He watched as one of the medics inserted a needle and started an IV, another is applying a pressure dressing over the wound. Then they managed to fasten EKG leads to the part of his chest that was not now covered with bandages. Finally they put a mask over his face, oxygen he presumed. Dillon resisted at first, trying to push the mask away, but he had so little strength left that his efforts were futile.

"Where are you taking him?"
"The Agency wants him taken to Guys, they have a man there. None of this can be allowed to leak out to the news media because there is still a lot of work to be done."

Eventually the medics seemed satisfied with what they had done, they lifted Dillon onto the stretcher, then placed it crossways across the back of the ATV. Apparently the vehicle was equipped with special clips designed to hold it there because he heard several clicks as it locked into place.

It would take them at least an hour from here to get to Guys. There were other hospitals closer, he couldn't understand why they didn't take him to one of those but as usual the Agency would have their reasons.

He heard the ATV roar off into the darkness. The medics never even spoke to him, but that's how the system worked.

One of the men from the ATV stayed behind. They did not exchange names – pretty pointless anyway, the name this man went by on this particular day was probably as far from the one his parents gave him, as was Allen Cranbourne's.

"We'd better get these prisoners to the road – there'll be a car along for them any minute," the newcomer said. Cranbourne in turn told him about Bardee lying dead in the bushes. The man talks into his phone for a minute.

"That will be taken care of, leave your tracker here and they will make a pick up shortly."

Cranbourne went over and placed the little device in Bardee's pocket, then they gather up the two gunrunners and start walking them to the road.

The new man looked at Cranbourne, "Do you have transportation?"

"Yes, about a mile or so back down the road. I'll be okay." He could feel the keys to the Defender in his pocket, strange that Dillon should have made a point of giving them to him.
They made quick time to the highway and it was not long before a dark color SUV pulled up. The prisoners were pushed into the back and the man who had stayed behind with Cranbourne got in the front passenger seat. The vehicle pulled away, and he was left alone with his thoughts. He started walking towards the place where they had left the Defender. Strange how he missed the tall man, they had only worked together for a few days, but there was something special about him.

'Kitty.' Dillon had mentioned that name several times. Wife or girlfriend – certainly she was important to him. He would find her somehow. He wanted her to know that the man had saved his life. From the look of the wound in his chest, he wouldn't give a lot for his chance of surviving. She deserved to know how it happened and he knew from experience that the Agency would not tell her.

Back at the Defender he looked in the side pocket of the door where they had stowed their phones earlier in the evening. Finding the one belonging to his friend, he turned it on. There were only five names in the contacts list, and one of those was his. Kitty's name is there. He thought of calling her but it was now 3 o'clock in the morning, not a good time to wake someone especially with bad news. He needed to get to London, specifically to Guys. Maybe the agency could find him a jet. By road it would take at least three hours. He wanted to speak to Kitty before then.

It had been a busy day for Kitty and Doc. The elderly man seemed fully recovered and now wanted to see as much of this city as he could. He had got quite good at this internet thing and found several medical museums around London that he wanted to go visit. He amazed Kitty in so many ways, firstly that he had recovered from a serious illness so quickly, and how he had mastered so many of the gadgets people in this century took for granted. Most of all she admired his passion for medicine and his continued thirst for new knowledge.

He wanted to visit the Hunterian museum at the Royal College of Surgeons. There was a second museum at St. Bartholomew's Hospital and thirdly The Welcome museum on Marylebone Road.

She couldn't let him go off alone, he had threatened to, and she knew he would without a doubt. So in the end she agreed to accompany him on condition he would tell her if he got tired so that they could come back to the apartment and rest.

He had dragged her around all three museums with an unflagging energy. He pointed things out to her and they laughed at some of the instruments on display said to be historic. Doc carried identical ones in his medical bag and considered them to be the latest thing.

At last she persuaded him to stop for something to eat claiming that even if he wasn't tired, she was. Besides which her feet were killing her.

It was well into the evening before the taxicab bringing them back to the apartment stopped outside their building.

They went inside and Kitty fixed a snack that they ate while Doc sat watching one of his favorite 'Westerns'. It was only 9 o'clock in the evening but for some reason she felt unbelievably tired.

" I have to go to bed now Doc, I'll see you in the morning. Maybe Matt will be back then and we'll get to go home."
He grunted a reply she could not make out. He was deep into the Western and she got the feeling he would be quite happy to stay in this time period.

Somehow she was so tired she just lay on the bed, not even bothering to get undressed. She must have slept for a while but she awoke with thoughts of Matt. Maybe she was still asleep, she was back in that Jet again, she could see Matt standing there by the hangar building. Something was telling her what to do, not that she minded. She called him over and managed to get him on board. Now they were taking off. The rest was a blur. He was with her in that iron bed she had bought specially for her room in Dodge. But they were not in Dodge at all. They were flying. The river and the city were beneath them. The message was clear in her head, "Enjoy this, it is a gift from us. We owe it to you both." She felt his weight on her, the whole experience was so real.

She woke in a cold sweat. "The last time", that phrase kept playing in her mind also but it could not be true, she did not want to think about it and forced it to the back of her mind. It had just been a dream after all. She got up to get a glass of water to dispel the nightmare – or was it a dream? Their lovemaking had been so perfect, how could that be a nightmare?

Her phone rang. The noise seemed so loud in the quiet of the night.

It was Jennifer.

"I'm on my way over, I'll tell you why when I get there."

I was not long before she stood in the apartment. Kitty looked at her,

"Something's wrong isn't it?"

Jennifer nodded. "They're bringing Matt in by helicopter, he's pretty badly hurt."
Kitty had been through this so many times, but still it caused her heart to skip a beat and her stomach to turn over.

"What happened?"

"He got shot in the chest. Thomas is on his way in, he'll be there when Matt arrives."
Kitty buries her face in her hands. "No, not again."
Jennifer puts her arm around Kitty's shoulders.

"If anyone can pull him through Thomas can, he's the best thoracic surgeon in the city, probably the country."
"I have to be there for him, let me freshen up and we'll go."

Somehow her dream was becoming clearer, a gift of time, one more time, the last time. Those phrases were stuck in her head. She could see every minute detail of that precious encounter as it replayed in her minds eye, every move they made and every word they said. It was sweet but unbearable at the same time.

TBC