Chapter 15
It was an old, smaller hospital with cracked, dirty white walls and a tiny space to the side to park. Despite the condition of the building, the sign with the red cross at the top of the front wall was brand-new, and spun silently as they approached.
Gawain turned their car into the parking lot and into the parking space closest to the entrance. She opened the door and jumped out with both feet. "So how are we going to do this? Steal it?"
"Pretty much. Faster that way."
"Never thought I'd steal from a hospital." She quickly made her way up the narrow driveway in front of the lobby doors, and through the automated glass doors. Once again, she wrinkled her nose at the smell inside.
Caradoc walked over to the receptionist, and leaned on the counter, chatting up the receptionist. Even without looking at his face, she could tell he was flirting.
She got on one of the two escalators, which brought her to the second floor landing at a snail's pace. Up there, the walls were even more dismal, the wallpaper peeling off in most sections, and there were signs of a termite infestation in the wood underneath.
A doctor pushed this saw through a set of double doors and spotted her. "Hello there, my dear. May I help you?" he asked in his British accent.
"I'm fine," she said. "It's just...my friend is sick." She crossed her arms. "I think he's in a coma."
"Did you bring him?" The doctor looked down into the lobby.
"No, I didn't. He's not here yet. I was thinking we can get set up in a motel not far from here. Please," she added.
"The hospital is better equipped."
"Well, what does a coma patient need?"
The doctor raised an eyebrow, and glanced into the corridor he had come out of before answering. "Glucose solution. Since he cannot eat, he will have to receive nutrients another way. We can provide that here."
"You can bring it to the motel, right?"
"Why would you want to do that?"
Gawain looked down at the floor. "I can't...I can't tell you that."
"If you can't tell me, I cannot help you. If he is really in a coma then the here is the best place he can be."
She shook her head. "Does he need anything else?"
"I don't know what you want, but I really can't help yo-"
She clenched her fists. "What does he need?"
The doctor blinked a few times, and then adjusted the wire-rimmed glasses on his nose. "Waste removal. We need to insert a catheter."
"A what?"
"A catheter. A tube into the urethra to remove his liquid waste. Your friend - you need to bring him in. Whatever caused the trauma can be fatal."
"It's not fatal. Trust me, I know."
"Clearly, you don't."
"I'm not an idiot."
"Then what are you running from?"
Gawain paused, her eyes connecting with the doctor's. She shifted her feet on the linoleum floor of the landing. "What if you bring all the equipment you need, and we take you to him?"
The doctor threw up his hands. "Fine. I guess you don't want this going on any records either?"
She exhaled. "Thank you, Doctor…"
"Estok. David Estok. I'm happy to help anyone in need. Now, I'm going to assume you've a vehicle of some kind?"
Gawain nodded, and stepped onto the escalator heading downwards. Its steps shuddered to life as she put a foot on the pressure sensor.
Caradoc was too busy French-kissing the receptionist to notice her walk up beside him and smack him across the cheek. He stumbled back, touching and wincing at the hand-shaped red mark on his face.
"What was that for?"
"Not spending your time wisely. Let's go."
"But you haven't got…" He looked at the receptionist and trailed off. "Sorry dear, got business to conduct."
"Outside. Now." Gawain jabbed a thumb over her shoulder at the door.
The receptionist cocked her head at Dr. Estok, who gave her a dismissive wave before following Gawain out of the lobby.
"That hurt," Caradoc said.
"Then you shouldn't have kissed her. This is Dr. David Estok, and he's going to take care of Oberon."
"Val, you sure?"
"Yes. Oberon needs a waste removal procedure, and we can't do that ourselves."
"What about Google?"
"You want to try insert a tube up his...up his thing, be my guest, Dirk. I'd rather have a professional do it."
"Who are you people?" Dr. Estok asked.
"Not important," Caradoc said. "How long is it going to take you to get your stuff?"
"Ten minutes. You have a car?"
"A van. This better be good, doctor."
Estok nodded and rushed back inside.
Police sirens were the last thing Garth expected to hear in the area. He walked once around the compound, trying to find a crack in the walls he could peek through. When he didn't find one, he approached the pair of officers standing sentry at the gate, which had been torn off its hinges.
"Good day, officers," Garth said.
They said nothing in reply.
"What's going in on in there?"
"There's a police investigation in place," the officer on the left said. "Civilians are not allowed beyond this point.
"An investigation? What of?"
"Illegal smuggling, sir," the other officer said. "We're not allowed to disclose any more."
"Well, you chaps have a good day." He walked back around the other side of the compound and dialed a number on his phone.
"What is it now?" a woman's voice came over the line.
"I'm at Harker's. There's police all over the fucking place."
"So he's been arrested?"
"They won't tell me. He might just be somewhere else. Used this place as a decoy or something."
"Find out. Didn't he call you?"
"He said that the two of them were here for passports."
"So they left the country?"
"Maybe. But I can't exactly ask him anymore."
"I'll leak his profile to the police. Harker's no use to us anymore. Come back here; you did what you can."
"Yes, Miss." He hung up and pocketed his phone. For a moment, he stood there, wondering if he should do it.
Garth sighed, cursing his own curiosity and scaled the wall.
Holly was still asleep when Gawain entered, scrunching the blankets up in her small hands and holding them close to herself. A trail of drool, not unlike her own, had formed from the corner of the mouth and across the pillow.
Gawain sat down at the small table in the corner of the room, and booted up the laptop with the press of a button. The boot screen flared, and then progressed into a desktop with a background with the Kingsman logo on it.
She opened the browser, and accessed the email website they all used.
Holly hadn't signed off.
Her cursor hovered over the "sign out" button, and she looked over at Holly. The girl wouldn't know a thing if she covered her tracks well.
Shaking her head, she clicked, and Holly's account was replaced with a login screen.
Her own inbox was normally sparsely populated, as she had found out was the same for most agents, but today, it was filled to the brim. She hadn't checked it since the incident at the clinic, and now she observed emails from Sagramore, from Caradoc, even one from a UK HQ address she didn't recognise with the subject labeled "Maleagant".
She clicked on the email from Sagramore with the title "Assistance Required", knowing full well what to expect.
Valerie, can you come to my office ASAP? I need help with something I'm afraid I'm not too good at. Who am I kidding? I'm terrible at this. How does three o'clock sound?
-Sagramore
Gawain smiled a little as she read it. Karlien's dress problem now seemed a million miles and a billion years away. And now the poor girl herself was nowhere to be found, very possibly dead by the hands of Garth's men.
She reached up with a finger to wipe the teardrop that had formed in the corner of her eye. Her nasal passages constricted, but she blinked away the thoughts and entered the bathroom, and turned on the warm water.
She splashed some on her face, slicked her hair back and stared at herself in the mirror. Small shadows had formed under eyes, and although she'd slept enough hours the night before, she felt tired. More tired than she had ever been in her entire career. Must be the running, she thought.
Gawain turned off the tap just as the last of their hot water ran out, and went back to the laptop. She closed Sagramore's email and opened Caradoc's instead.
It was a photo of two corgis lying in the grass next to a tree, on their backs and with their tongues out. The accompanying message read:
The dogs are doing fine, but Shelia is leaving town next week, so we've to go and pick them up. You with me?
Gawain instinctively clicked the reply button, then remembered where she was. She closed the emails and flipped the laptop screen down, putting it into a sleep mode.
Caradoc had assumed the exact same position he had been in that morning, leaning over the railing with a thoughtful look on his face. His phone was on one hand, a news site opened on it, but he wasn't looking at it.
She went up to him. "Hey, you okay?"
Caradoc gave her his trademark smile. "Yes, I'm quite okay. Unless you're not asking if I'm okay again?"
"I'll never know how you do it."
"Do what?"
"You said you saw your old partner after he got...you know. And then you lost an eye in an explosion, and here you are, acting like none of it ever happened."
"Shit happens."
"But don't you ever get sick of it? Ever thought of trying to fix that?"
"There are some things you can't fix, Val. You just have to accept it and move on." He cast his eyes out towards the road.
"Speaking of fixing, how's Oberon?"
"Doc said he's fine. Awfully brittle, the guy. Cause of the coma is probably him hitting his head on his own desk after Holly dragged him inside."
"Seriously? Thought being shot had something to do with it.
Caradoc shrugged.
Gawain watched an old truck make a sudden, sharp into the motel parking lot, before stopping just out of sight below them. "What if Charlemagne can't help us?"
"You kidding me? His team's the best around after the Brits. And I don't count Galahad and Lancelot anyway since they've only been here a year."
"You've seen what Antoine can do. He killed Sagramore."
"And almost got Holly too. But now we know what we're dealing with. We can prepare to fight him."
"He won't come alone."
"Neither will we. Have you ever seen Roland fi-"
Ka-chuck.
Gawain turned to the barrel of a pump-action shotgun just a few metres from them, loaded and the shooter's finger on the trigger. Jonas smiled at her from the top of the stairs. "Nice to meet you two again."
"What do you want?" she asked.
"You guys owe me a hell of an explanation." Keeping the weapon aimed, he stepped forwards. "And you're going to help me find Karlien."