Chapter 25

Loose Ends

2200 – Undisclosed Location

Elvis was sat on a curb throwing back a cold plastic bottle of water whilst a medic dabbed at the flesh wounds he had received. The more concerning bullet graze to his upper arm had opened again, trickling blood slowly despite a thick gauze dressing. To Elvis this was nothing. It was part of being a Special Forces Operative. He raked his sweat dampened hair back, thinking of Georgie. He could visualize her standing there with arms folded across her chest giving him that Lane stare for getting yet another scratch.

He closed his eyes and imagined it was she tending to him. Her touch he was feeling instead of someone else's. He realized she would be worried that he had not made contact with her. He regretted it, but there was really nothing he could do. Lifting his lids slowly he saw a gurney roll by carrying the wounded medic. He watched as she was lowered and then hoisted into the back of an ambulance.

"Will she be OK?" Elvis said.

His attendant never missed a beat in dressing his wounds as she said, "We do hope so. She took quite a knock to the head."

Marty was conscious when he was escorted away, babbling on that he was not the one who injured the medic. Avery was long gone. Metro had whisked her away as soon as she had been taken into custody. Elvis sucked in a deep breath, slowly releasing the fatigue, pain, and hunger that were threatening to overtake him. He shifted his thoughts back to Georgie and Daniel and ran a thumb over his smooth wedding band. He wanted to go home, but not yet. The longer this day wore on the deeper he became involved. This day was to have ended with a confrontation. He and Desmond Pyle. The thought of the meet up with Pyle made Elvis chuckle. He was in no mood to engage with anyone, let alone attempt to set things right between Laura and Pyle's son.

"We need to take you to A & E," the medic said pulling Elvis away from his thoughts.

"And why is 'at?" he said.

"It's a dirty wound you have there. I can't stitch it here. Infection risk."

"Right. Well, can't ya just close it with a couple of knots and a plaster?" he said fully aware he was wasting his breath.

"Absolutely not. No. How long ago did this happen?" she said pointing to the bullet wound.

"I dunno."

"Exactly. Gerry! Over here! This one needs to go!"

Elvis shook his head in resignation. "Fuck sake," he mumbled. "Just sew it up, eh?"

"Oh, they will. Properly."

Medic Gerry appeared, angling a gurney in Elvis' direction.

"Nah, I'm good mate," Elvis said. "My legs still work."

Xxxxx

2215 – Hereford, UK

Georgie opened the door slowly, peeking in on Daniel. He was sound asleep, small hands clutching his stuffed bunny. He was the reminder of everything good in her life. Daniel inherited his father's dark hair, but Georgie had to admit, he did favor her. It was peaceful there in the nursery. No news reports, no speculations. She wished the day had unfolded differently and Elvis would be on his way home. She jumped when her phone, stuffed in her back pocket, began to vibrate. She backed out of the room and quietly closed the door.

"Hello? Debbie..."

"Reginald said you called."

"I did. Yeah, about Laura. Didn't he mention it?"

"She's not here Georgie!"

"What?!" Georgie looked at her watch, mentally calculating the last time she spoke to Laura.

"I couldn't find her. I searched blocks. I have no clue as to where she could have gone off to."

"She was at the tube when she rang me," Georgie said.

"Well was she coming home? What did she say?! What?!"

"She is worried about her father. I told her to go home and wait for him there."

"And…?"

Georgie huffed out a breath as her head tilted back. She stared at the ceiling for a second or two to temper her response.

"I believed she would go home."

"Really? Well she's not here! The police are out looking for her now, and they've locked London down!" Debbie's voice escalated to shrill proportions.

Georgie pinched the bridge of her nose and counted to ten. All she could think of was where the hell is Reginald? Debbie began to sob, convulsive sobs.

"Debbie….Debbie! Listen to me," Georgie said. "Laura has Elvis' phone. Try to call her. Maybe she just needs to hear your voice telling her it's OK to come home."

The sobs turned into hiccoughs as Debbie slowly found her composure again. "What do you mean?" she stammered.

"I think you know. It's been brewing for quite awhile and it boiled over today. Reginald has been less than kind to Laura." Georgie grimaced after the words spilled out of her mouth. The silence she received in response only made her feel worse.

Then Debbie snuffled, cleared her throat and said, "that may be so, but oftentimes she pushes him to his limits."

"Seems to me he pushed Laura over her limits today."

Debbie looked around before ducking into another room away from the conversation Reginald was having with the police. She was relieved he did not notice her departure. In hushed tones she said, "I do not want to get into this now Georgie. Things have been less than pleasant here. Right now I simply want my daughter home."

"Understood. If they locked the city down, then no one can get in or out. So Laura has got to be close by. Call her."

Debbie swiped the streaks of tears from her cheeks. "Ok, yeah, let me do that. Just a second, did you say Laura has Elvis' phone?"

"Yes."

"How, how is that possible?"

"Remember the man who was with Laura when the police handed her over to you?"

"Yes, of course."

"Elvis gave it to him, apparently in case things went awry. I don't know why she kept that from you."

"Along with the pocket knife. I feel as though I don't even know my own daughter anymore."

"Debra! Where? Oh, there you are. Who are you talking to? The police need your statement. Put the phone down!" Reginald shouted.

Debbie flinched. Georgie rolled her eyes, not being able to miss overhearing the demand.

"I've got to go," Debbie said, but before she ended the call she heard Georgie say,

"Call her."

Xxxxx

2300 - London, UK

The A&E was bustling with activity. Personnel were moving and scattered in every direction. Elvis looked at his watch. Time had barely moved forward since the last time he checked.

"Come on!" he growled, launching himself straight to his feet from the side of the gurney. He picked at the gauze dressing on his arm. Nope. Not bleeding. "Good to go in my world," he said and flung the closed curtain aside only to come face to face with Dave Warner. "Ah shit."

"Well, the pleasure is all mine," Warner said forcing Elvis back into the cubicle.

"Fuck sake Dave. I've been 'ere for a week," Elvis said debating whether he should push past the MI5 agent.

"Not even one hour mate. Take it easy," Warner said. "It's a busy place."

"No doubt," Elvis said picking at the gauze again. "I ain't bleeding out and I'm upright, so, good to go."

Warner chuckled, "doubt Georgie would consider you a model patient at the moment."

"She wouldn't be surprised," Elvis said, reluctantly plopping back onto the gurney.

"Thornton is at headquarters anticipating your AAR and I am certainly curious about your interaction with Bowers." Warner said, lowering his voice and pulling the curtain closed around them.

"She's a criminal Dave, wha' more do ya need?"

"She's a key player in this plot that nearly brought down a portion of the rail system. We are fortunate there weren't more casualties."

"True enough," Elvis said. "I take it the threats have stopped?"

"Indeed. We suspect the target taken into custody on the train was the caller, of course he has very little to say now."

Elvis raised a hand to silence further conversation when he saw the curtain move.

"Elvis Harte?" a middle-aged man said before completely entering the cubicle.

"Yeah," Elvis said, "Ya 'ere to zip me up?"

"I believe the term we use is suture," the man said. "I am Doctor Prescott. The wound needs properly cleansed and irrigated before I would even consider closing it."

Dave Warner had to turn away to prevent Elvis from seeing his amusement in the captain's reaction.

Xxxxx

To Elvis, the cleansing process took far too long. Combat medicine was much more efficient. He wondered how Georgie would have handled this.

"All finished," the nurse said. "I'll go fetch Dr. Prescott."

"Really good," Elvis said.

The nurse was not certain if that was a compliment or not and gave him a look. "Just sit tight, he will be in shortly," she said, jerking the curtain closed behind her.

"Wha' does shortly mean exactly?" Elvis said, eyes searching for any means of escape.

Warner grinned, "Patience captain, patience."

Elvis squirmed, "I was born with a short supply of patience."

Both men chuckled, then Elvis' face lit up. "Oi, Dave, can I borrow your phone?"

"Sure."

"I'd fancy giving Georgie a ring and bring her up to speed."

"Go on," Warner said handing his mobile over.

Elvis juggled it in one hand not wanting to disturb the drapes arranged around his other arm for fear he would have to endure another cleansing project. When he heard Georgie's voice answering, his heart lurched.

"Hey babe," he said.

Georgie savored the sound of his endearment. The tight knot in her chest finally began to unravel.

"Elvis! Are you OK?" she wanted to know but was almost afraid of his answer.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. All is well," he said sending Dave Warner a look that meant shut up!

Her pent up anxiety burst out. She had to know. She wanted him home. "Where are you? What's going on?"

"Uh, finishing up the loose ends of a mission, AAR's, ya get the gist."

"I know you've been up to something."

"Yeah, well, it's over. I promise."

Warner quietly left the cubicle. Elvis watched him go, then said, "I miss you."

Georgie felt the words, she craved more. "Just get home to me."

Elvis sensed her longing and concern for him. "I'm working on it babe. It won't be until tomorrow now, but I will be home."

Georgie fingered the maternal necklace Elvis had given her. "We want you home," she said. A rush of guilt struck her, should she tell him about Laura?

Elvis looked up when Warner pushed the curtain aside and came back into the room. "He's coming," Warner said thumbing backwards.

"I love you and Dano," Elvis said.

"We love you."

"I gotta go babe."

"OK. Love you."

Georgie clutched her phone. It was the only life line she had to Elvis at the moment. She noticed the call came from Dave Warner's mobile and that provided her with a little more information. She knew London was on lock-down and now, Elvis was with MI5. Hopefully it was as he said, finishing up loose ends.

A/N: In response to Lulu's question, No, I don't think I would write a story about Elvis surviving his canon injury. Those injuries were fatal, and truthfully, I would not want to put him through something like that. I do appreciate your question and your reviews. Thank you so much for your lovely comments and I'm thrilled you are enjoying the story. x