Blue with Black Dots (The Caprice Trilogy Book 2) (42 page)

The hospital was once a hotel.  The style resembled the quintessential French Chateau.  The building was white cement stucco with a mansard roof.  The only styling of the façade came from the windows.  Each window was relieved with a Roman arch carved above and cement cross, dividing the window into four sections.  The drive in front of the hospital was the same peach-colored gravel as
Chateau Constance
.  Guilliame didn’t drive over the gravel.  Cedric ordered Georgia out of the car to continue to the hospital door on foot.  As Georgia got out of the car, she didn’t have to close the door.  Cedric reached over and shut the door behind her, leaving Georgia a 20-meter walk to the door.  Guilliame didn’t have to start the engine.  The exchange was so quick he never cut the engine off.  No one heard or saw the brief delivery in the dimming daylight.  The car was already out of view by the time Georgia took her fourth step over the gravel.  Even her footsteps were inaudible, inside the thick walls of the hospital.  She treaded slow and lightly over the tiny dry rocks.  Her breath didn’t come easily.  It barely came at all.  Her lungs inflated against broken ribs and her air intake came through a broken nose.  She tried to breathe through her mouth but found the taste of blood to be worse than the smell of it.  The worst pain was her aching pride.  After Owen, she was feeling like a capable agent.  She didn’t doubt that she had more to learn but she felt able.  Now, she struggled to walk twenty meters.  It took her more than a minute to make it to the front door of the hospital.  It was a walk of shame and the old wood door was shut.  Georgia knew the door was heavier than she wanted it to be but she didn’t know how hard she could knock or for how long.  She took her right arm off her ribs and got a solid grip on the door handle.  She balled her left hand around her right hand for support but her right hand did all the pulling.  She was able to get the door open enough to slide part of her body in.  When an orderly on the inside saw her wedged between in door, he came to assist. 

The walk and weight of the door had burned up a lot of the bits of energy Georgia had.  She had enough energy to maintain herself on her feet but it didn’t suit her purpose.  She was playing the role of the damsel in distress.  She played it up by collapsing into the orderly’s arms.

She relaxed into a half conscious state, which made the breathing easier.  She didn’t need so much air if she wasn’t moving.  She could feel the orderly lowering her into a wheelchair and someone pushing her along.  She felt the wheelchair stop and someone lift her onto a padded table.  She felt the air rush toward her as someone moved near.  She felt the poke of a needle in her arm.  She felt the tape sticking to her arm.  The tape was the absolute warmest thing to touch her skin.  She could feel the slow stream of fluids passing into her vein.  She could feel the urgency in the room. 

The table began to move.  She heard the word
radiographie
twice.  And knew where she was going.  She could hear the ungreased wheels of the IV stand being pulled along with her.  Just when she began to feel the cold air making her uncomfortable, she had a blanket thrown on top of her.  It was heavy and smelled of nothing.  The way to the X-ray room wasn’t long, which disappointed Georgia.  She liked being pushed around on a gurney.  It was classic fun, like being a kid.  It was short but she had no choice but to enjoy it.  She had already paid for the ride with multiple injuries.  She relaxed in the X-ray room.  She didn’t have to move; she was moved.  The technician and the orderly positioned her in multiple directions to get the pictures they needed.  They found the broken ribs and broken nose.  The swell of her left wrist lead them to her other injury. 

Her ribs had to be set as well as her nose.  Her wrist would have to be wound and cast.  She lied in her hospital bed looking appropriately infirmed.  Her left arm had a stiff white cast covering half her forearm.  A long white gause was wrapped around her head, as if to bind her nose to her face.  The gause was looped around her head as a fashion for a patient.  It was a sign that said healing.  Without a mirror, Georgia was aware of how unattractive she looked but she took reprieve in the fact that it was the look she was going for, distressed.  She lied in the hospital bed for a full day, having her temperature and pulse checked.  She was encouraged to drink as much as she could and was given the location of the restroom.  She was a patient on the first day and a guest on the second.  A nurse came to take her information and ask if there was anyone she needed to call.  Georgia gave a fake name and asked if it was ok to call international.  The nurse said
je vous en prie
. 
You’re welcome
.   

The number was one she was required
not
to use.  It was the office of the Directorate of Division Operations for the Northern Hemisphere, Arthur Witt’s office.  Georgia spoke to the man, not Arthur Witt, his secretary.  It was a little used line.  But it had an electronic scramble, preventing the line from being tapped.  It put a certain nervousness in the secretary’s voice.  The line had electronic security for a reason.  Georgia said one thing, Queen of Spades.  Georgia knew the message would be relayed to Arthur himself and he would tell the secretary what to do.  The secretary transferred her call to Arthur’s desk.

“Hello, Georgia,” said Arthur.  His voice was different from the last time Georgia heard it.  It wasn’t shaky.  It was steady.  It was so steady it seemed unnatural.  A normal speech pattern had some irregularities because the brain could process information at a quicker speed than could be relayed using the voice.  A completely steady speech pattern was manufactured.  It was usually only possible if someone made a conscious effort to appear calm.  The only people who could manage it without trying were those who had no emotional connection to the words they spoke.  Those were generally sociopaths.  Arthur Witt was one or the other. 

“Sir,” said Georgia.

“How can I be of service?” asked Arthur.

“Can you come to France?” asked Georgia.  She was direct.

“Come to France,” said Arthur, “Why would I do that?”

“Because I need you to,” said Georgia.

“Ok,” said Arthur, “Explain to me how that is.”

“I got a package,” said Georgia.

“A package from whom?” asked Arthur.

“The King of Diamonds,” said Georgia.

“The King of Diamonds,” said Arthur, “How would he know where you were to send you a package?”

“There’s something going on, Sir,” said Georgia, “I think he found something and I don’t know whether he sent the package or had someone send it.  But he sent me a message.“

“What message?” asked Arthur.

“Someone is trying to kill me,” said Georgia.

“Who?” asked Arthur.

“I don’t know, Sir,“ said Georgia, “But I think Patrick is dead and some of the others are dead also.”

“The King of Diamonds told you this,” said Arthur.

“No, Sir,“ said Georgia, “He didn’t tell me anything.  I’m saying I received a package from someone identified as him.”

“Do you know if he sent the package?” asked Arthur.

“I don’t,” said Georgia, “But I know someone is following me.”

“How do you know that?” asked Arthur.

“Events,” said Georgia.

“What events?” asked Arthur.

“As soon as I arrived in Paris, I received a package,” said Georgia, “It said it was from him, the King of Diamonds, and to meet him in Le Havre.  I went to Le Havre and he didn’t show up at the meeting spot.  But someone wanted met at that spot.  I know because it was a closed restaurant.  I realized that and I left Le Havre.”

“Why did you leave the city?” asked Arthur.

“Because the King of Spades is missing,” said Georgia, “That’s why you sent me to Paris.  I figured if someone killed him and they knew I would be sent to investigate, they could target me as well.  When I got back to Paris I heard about a shooting in Le Havre.  It was all over the news.  That happened the same day I was there.  You must have seen the news.”

              “I did,” said Arthur.

“Do you know what that means, Sir?” asked Georgia.

“Why don’t you tell me what you think it means,” said Arthur, “You’re the one in the field.  I trust your eyes and ears better than mine here.”

“We are compromised, Sir,” said Georgia, “I’m talking about
Full House
. Somehow it’s been compromised.”

“That a strong supposition,” said Arthur.

“Sir,” said Georgia, “It’s the only supposition.”

“Why?” asked Arthur.

“How else would anyone know of these links?” said Georgia, “Hagan, Patrick, me.  There is only one link between us, Sir.  And it’s not from playing tee ball at the Y, when we were kids.”

“So you don’t think the package sent to you was from Hagan,” said Arthur.

“Maybe,” said Georgia, “But whoever it was, wanted to get me out in the open.  And they knew about the link between me and Hagan.  Why else would I obey?  Why would I go meet Hagan?  Someone knew why and they tried to exploit that link.  Sir,
Full House
is compromised.  You have to extract the others, where ever they are.”

“That would take time,” said Arthur, “But I’ll come.  We’ll sort this out.”

“Thank you, Sir,” said Georgia, “But, Sir, you should not tell anyone you’re coming to France.  If we are compromised, it won’t be safe.”

“I appreciate your concern,” said Arthur, “Where are you at the moment?”

“I’m in a hospital in Bourges,” said Georgia.

              “Hospital?” said Arthur, “Why are you in a hospital in Bourges?”

“I left Paris,” said Georgia, “I thought it would be too easy to locate me there so I came to Bourges.”

“Smart,” said Arthur, “But how did you end up in the hospital?”

“I was staying at a cheap hotel near the rail station,” said Georgia, “I thought it would be a better place to hide than the nice hotels in the city center.  I dressed with cheap stocking and ankle boots and red lipstick to look like, like a prostitute.”

“Why would you do that?” asked Arthur.

              “There are a lot in the area.  I thought of it as a great cover,” said Georgia, “It worked better than I wanted it to.”

“How’s that?” asked Arthur.

“I went to a grocery store to buy food and was walking back to my hotel and I was mugged,” said Georgia, “They called me a whore and they took me in the alley and kicked me and stole my purse but left the groceries.  They must have been thinking I was carrying lots of cash.”

“Probably, you did just come from buying groceries.  And prostitutes deal in cash.  When it rains, it pours,” said Arthur, “I’ll come.  Don’t go back to the hotel.  You didn’t use an identifying name when you registered in the hospital did you?”

“No, Sir,” said Georgia.

“Good,” said Arthur, “Ok, stay in the hospital.  I’ll find you…”

“Sir,” said Georgia, “I was wondering about new credit cards.  I don’t have anymore resources.  They were all stolen when I was mugged.  The rest are back in the Paris flat.”

“Don’t worry,” said Arthur, “I’ll take care of that.  Just stay in the hospital till I arrive.  I’ll pay the bill.  Just stay there.”

“Yes, Sir,” said Georgia.  Georgia spent the next two full days bedridden.  The hospital was worried about her ribs.  They didn’t want her to move around.  Georgia was worried about her condition.  She didn’t want her muscles to get weak.  She had improved her conditioning during her stay at
Chateau Constance
.  She couldn’t measure her conditioning and compare it to when she was training at Harvey Point.  The vineyard at
Constance
wasn’t a measured course.  She could time her progress up and down the rows of the vineyard but she could only compare it to her previous times running the vineyard.  She didn’t run vineyards at Harvey Point.  The one constant was her time dropping.  She got faster each week at Harvey Point.  The same was true about running the vineyard at
Constance
, faster each week.  She could feel her muscles becoming flat against the bed.  She could smell the lack of muscle definition setting in.  It felt like rigor mortis. Which didn’t make her feel like an agent in play.