He closed his eyes again, just hoping the nurse would leave, but she didn't and continued speaking to him. Then he felt the nurse give him a hard nudge.
He opened his eyes just in time to see her pulling a thermometer from her skirt pocket. Only this was no oral thermometer.
There was no way out of this one.
The nurse rolled him to his right side.
Go with it. Just go with it.
⢠⢠â¢
At the police station, Jordan waited patiently for her papers to be processed. After an hour, she checked on Isbel who was waiting back at the car. The second hour, she paced the lobby and decided to move Isbel to the shade. Perturbed by the third hour, she had had enough. She could only imagine what they were doing to Ben back at the hospital and she needed to get to Mashhad before the end of the day.
It was time to make her exit, only she dreaded leaving her passport behind because it had her picture on it. She could change her name, but her face was altogether a different matter.
From the hallway behind the locked door, she heard footsteps heading toward the lobby. Someone was finally coming. She skipped over to the door and waited.
A male employee emerged through the door. He nodded at her, but kept walking toward the front door of the lobby to leave the building.
Jordan grabbed a magazine and tucked it inside the door to keep it from closing all the way. As soon as the man was out of sight, she made her move. She opened the door and looked down a long hallway of closed doors.
With it the weekend, the workforce was at a minimum. She entered the hallway and quickly started down the length of it. Toward the end, she saw the office of Vehicle License and Registration. The door was open. A light was on inside the room.
A woman suddenly emerged from inside the office. “Can I help you, ma'am?”
“Yes,” Jordan replied. “I was told to come here to collect my paperwork.”
“Someone sent you back here?” The clerk glanced down the hallway. “Who let you in?” she asked next.
“The gentleman who just left. I believe his name was Danush.”
“Danush?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“You must be the lady with the expired papers, Mrs. Mahasti?”
“That's right, I'm the lady, but the car belongs to my sister,” Jordan explained.
“I don't know why Danush would tell you to come back here. The papers aren't ready to be released.”
“Perhaps someone else asked him to relay the message?”
“Let me call Officer Tavaazo,” the woman said. “If you don't mind, could you wait right here a minute.”
“If I'm not mistaken,” Jordan tried stopping her, “I think I saw him leaving, too.”
“I can't give you the papers until he signs off on them.”
“He hasn't signed them yet?”
“I don't think so, but I'll check again before I call. Wait here.” The clerk returned inside the office. She approached a coworker who was tapping away on the computer. The two women had a brief conversation. The coworker glimpsed at Jordan and then picked up a set of papers lying in a stack at the corner of her desk. After a cursory review, she returned the papers to the stack and continued her conversation with the other clerk.
Unable to hear what they were saying, but quite able to analyze their expressions, Jordan knew the situation wasn't adding up to pretty. And as soon as the woman seated at her desk picked up her telephone, Jordan knew this was her cue to fly into action. It was time to create a diversion and fast.
Checking the hallway, she spotted the fire alarm on the wall. Only she wasn't close enough to pull the switch, not without giving herself away. Standing to the side of the door, Jordan reached under her dress and grabbed her gun, checked the silencer, and fired a single shot into the sprinkler head on the ceiling.
The alarm began to ring. Water sprayed the length of the hallway.
The woman at her desk slammed down the telephone and jumped up from her seat. “We have to get out,” she cried to Jordan.
“What's going on?” Jordan shouted back to her.
“Fire!” the woman said.
“I'm leaving,” Jordan returned.
The two women rushed to gather their personal belongings, while Jordan turned and raced down the hall. But before she reached the door to the lobby, she tried the door to an office. It opened. With no one inside, she veered inside and closed the door. There, she crouched down next to the wall and waited.
It wasn't long before the two women were racing down the hall to leave the building.
When the coast was clear, Jordan raced back to the clerk's office and collected her papers. Then she left the building through an emergency exit at the opposite end of the building.
She quickly made her way around to Isbel at the back of the lot where she was sitting underneath a tree. “Come on,” she said to the girl.
“What's going on?”
“Fire, I think.”
Inside the car, Isbel peered through the window.
“You need to get down and stay out of sight,” Jordan told her. Then she pulled out of the parking lot and made toward the hospital. They didn't have long before the authorities â or the doctors â would figure out what was happening.
Four minutes later, she pulled the car into the Imam Khomeini Hospital parking lot. She circled the lot, looking for a vehicle that was the same make and model of the one she was driving. With the Samand being one of the most common vehicles on the road, it was easy to find one.
She took another pass around the lot before stopping at the vehicle.
“Keep an eye out from behind,” she told the girl. “If you see
anyone
coming, let me know. I'll watch from the front.” Then she tucked the registration papers under her arm and hopped out of the vehicle.
Working fast, she swapped the plates and then exchanged her set of papers for the ones inside the parked car.
She drove to the opposite side of the parking lot, parked the car, and told Isbel to remain out of sight. Two seconds later, she was sprinting toward the automatic doors of the ER.
At the reception desk, Jordan spoke to the attendant. “Could you please tell me where I might find my husband, Mr. Ahed?”
“Yes, let me check.” The woman entered his name into the computer. “They're taking him to surgery now.”
“Surgery! What's wrong with him?”
“I'm sorry, it doesn't seem to say.”
“Well, it must say something,” Jordan insisted.
“No, it only says he's in pre-op.”
“Where is that?”
“You can't go in there,” the attendant tried to explain.
“Where-is-it?” Jordan leaned into toward the woman.
“Ma'am, you can wait in the lobby.”
“Where?”
“Go through those double doors, head left, and follow the signs.”
“Thank you.” Jordan turned to leave.
“They won't let you in,” the attendant called after her.
But Jordan kept moving. Before reaching pre-op, she found a nurses' closet. She circled in and out of it with a surgical gown thrown over her clothing.
Blowing through the pre-op doors, Jordan saw several bays with drawn curtains. She found Ben in the second slip closest to the door.
At his side, she spoke hastily, “Ben, Ben,” as she shook him.
When he didn't respond, she began disconnecting wires and tubes.
The nurse opened the curtain to his slip.
“Are we ready?” Jordan spoke to the nurse.
“I think you must be in the wrong OR,” the nurse replied.
“No, no. I've been reassigned,” Jordan said. Then she tossed Ben's chart onto his bed between his legs.
“I'm sorry, but I don't recognize you,” the nurse said.
“I'm new.” Having heard the doctor's name, she quickly added, “Dr. Hamin asked me to assist.”
“I'm the head nurse and I don't know anything about this.”
“Perhaps you should check with him,” Jordan suggested.
“Yes, I think I will. Would you mind waiting out here.” Without another word, the nurse hurried after the doctor.
Jordan yanked the tubing free from the stand and tossed the excess wires and cords onto the top of Ben's sheets. She released the brakes on the bed and pushed the bed into the hallway.
“Ben, wake up. Wake up,” she said to him.
At the first corner, she turned right. Ben was groggy and still unresponsive. Halfway down the hall, Jordan realized she should have gone left.
“Hey, you! Wait!” shouted the nurse as she rounded the corner.
“Don't worry, I've got it covered,” Jordan called back to her.
“Stop now!” the nurse shouted.
Jordan kept pushing the bed. At the next intersection, she turned right and raced down the hallway. Their options were running out and fast.
She found an empty room, pushed the bed inside, and closed the door.
A moment later, she heard the nurse racing down the hallway, calling for help.
“Ben, wake up.” Jordan shook his shoulders.
He moved his lips, trying to speak.
“You've got to wake up.” Jordan worked to free the IV from his arm. But as soon as it was free, blood spewed.
“Hey,” he muttered.
“Ben, it's me, Jordan.”
“Where have you been? You can't believe,” he tried to complain, but his speech was slurred.
“It'll be okay.” She gathered the sheet and wrapped it over his arm to stop the bleeding. “I need to find a bandage.”
“What are we doing?” he tried to ask.
“We're doing what we do best,” she replied.
“Oh, no.” His eyelids flapped rapidly as they closed.
Jordan rummaged through a cabinet looking for a bandage. “Come on, come on, there's got to be something. Ah. Found it.” She returned to Ben's side; he was out of it again. She worked quickly to secure the bandage on his arm. “Ben, try to stay awake, will you?”
He opened his eyes.
She kept talking. “You wouldn't happen to know why they were about to cut you open, do you?”
But he closed his eyes.
“Ben, listen to me.”
“What?” He opened his eyes again, squinting.
“Why were they taking you to the OR?”
“I don't know. Were they?”
“Let me see.” She grabbed the chart between his legs and glimpsed at it. She read the first word she saw aloud. “Appendix.” Not reading any further for lack of time, she tossed the chart into a garbage can. “The doctor was about to be in for a big surprise. Didn't those fools see your scar?”
“Oh, brother,” he said.
“How are you feeling?” She had to keep him talking.
“Tired. My head hurts. My back. Stomach.” Then he reached for his ribcage to the left of his stomach.
“We've got to get you out of here,” she said. “You're going to have to walk.”
“I really don't feel so good.”
“It's only the medication. Do you think you can walk?”
“I don't know.”
“We can't take the main elevators. Not now.”
“What a shame,” he said.
“Here, let me help you sit up.” She pulled him upright. “Try sitting up for me, it'll help clear your head.”
“What about my clothes?” He complained.
“That's the least of your worries, dear.”
“Dear?” He tried forming a smile.
“Dear, honey, sweetheart, whatever you like.”
“Am I dreaming?” He swayed.
“Ben, focus.”
“I'm trying. I'm trying.”
Footsteps tromped down the hallway, passing the room.
“Don't tell me?” he said.
“Sh-h.” She held a finger to his mouth. “I'm going to have a look around.”
“No.”
“I'm not leaving you. I promise. I need to figure out how we're going to get out of here, okay?”
He dropped back down to the mattress and closed his eyes.
She hurried to the door and peeked into the hallway. The coast was clear.
Where were the stairs?
She spotted a storage room across the hallway. Maybe there was a map of the facilities on the wall. She zipped across the hall, entered the room, and found herself inside a large supply room.
“Perfect,” she said to herself, then left.
“Ben, wake up.” She nudged him. “You're never going to believe this.”
“What?” He squinted at her again.
“The elevator to the morgue is right across the hall.”
“They have an elevator to the morgue?” he asked.
“It's time to go,” she said as she started to push the bed to the door.
When the coast was clear, she drove the bed across the hall and into the storage room. When the elevator arrived, she threw the sheet over his head.
“Don't move an inch,” she told him. “This may get a little hinky.”
He sighed.
“Don't worry, you'll be fine.”
Once they were inside the elevator, Jordan relaxed against the back wall. She had the route planned and knew exactly how they were getting out of there. It was perfect, just perfect, she thought.
But when the elevator stopped and the doors opened, everything changed.
“Don't move,” an officer shouted. “Hands up.”
Jordan stood motionless as she stared down the barrel of an automatic machine gun. No way was she able to take on a weapon like this. Not unless she was prepared to be toe-tagged and laid supine on a metal slab along with the other bodies in the morgue.
“Step out of the elevator,” the officer said to her. “Make it nice and slow.”
With no choice, she stepped off the elevator.
“Turn around. Face the wall and keep your hands up.”
She did as he asked.
The officer called to the nurse across the room. “Nurse. Come get the bed.”
The nurse hurried to the elevator. She lifted the sheet from Ben's face and said, “It's him.”