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Gawain (Knights of Excalibur Book 1) Page 3
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“Mr. Hawk?” she called. He straightened, catching her attention, and she watched him approach with an uncertain expression on her face. She clutched her clipboard against her chest like a shield. “Mr. Hawk?” she asked again. He nodded curtly. “You’re a ... relation of our nameless patient?”
He smirked humorlessly at her hesitation. He knew he didn’t look at all like Lucas. “Let me see him and we’ll find out.”
“All right. If you’ll just follow me.”
She led the way through the doors and past the desk where another nurse sat, a dark blonde with big blue eyes that looked him over with open curiosity. The original nurse ignored her and brought him to a closed door labeled Exam 4. She paused with her hand on the latch and looked back as if she was going to say something, but then she just shook her head and opened the door, holding it wide for him to enter.
He stepped into the dimly lit room, scanning it briefly before standing beside the heavily-bandaged man lying on the bed, hooked up to an IV and monitors. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until he let it out in a long sigh. “Shit,” he muttered grimly.
The nurse winced at his language but she let it slide. “Do you know him, Mr. Hawk?” she asked tentatively. “Is he your ... your brother?”
He shook his head. “His brother’s in London. I just work with him. His name’s Lucas Butler.”
“L-U-C-A-S B-U-T-L-E-R?” He nodded and she scribbled quickly on her clipboard. “Do you know how to get hold of his brother or some other family member? We’ll need authorization for medical treatment. And his insurance information,” she added apologetically.
“I’ll see if I can get hold of him. I can give you his insurance, it’s the same as mine. Did he say anything about what happened to him?”
“He’s been unconscious since we brought him in,” the nurse explained, looking at Lucas with genuine worry. “He was attacked early this morning and suffered a severe head injury.”
“Is he going to be all right?”
“You’d have to speak with the doctor.”
“Is he available?”
“His brother should –”
“Ben’s not here,” he snapped. “I am.” The nurse shied back from him in alarm and he shook his head, berating himself for losing his patience. Frightening the hospital staff wasn’t going to help anyone. “Lucas doesn’t have any other family,” he added in a softer tone.
She gazed at his face for a long moment and then nodded. “I’ll see if Dr. Chandra is free,” she told him. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” She stepped out quickly and closed the door quietly behind her.
He watched the slow rise and fall of Lucas’s breathing, feeling the old, familiar ache in his own chest. He and Lucas might not have been brothers by blood, but they’d been through a lot together over the years. He rested his hand on Lucas’s shoulder and shook it gently. “Lucas?” he said quietly. “Lucas, can you hear me? It’s Gavin.” There was no response.
The door opened again and the nurse stepped in, followed by another man in the same blue scrubs. He was a balding East Indian with a name shrunk to near invisibility to make it fit on his ID badge: Ramakrishnan Chandrasekhar.
The nurse looked alarmed to see Hawk leaning over her patient and her eyes shot to the monitors to reassure herself that nothing was amiss. “Dr. Chandra, this is Mr. Hawk,” she said, not taking her eyes off him. “He’s taking responsibility for Mr. Butler’s care.”
“Is he going to be okay?” Hawk asked bluntly.
The nurse handed Chandra her clipboard and he flipped through the pages with a frown. Now that she wasn’t hiding behind her files, Hawk could finally read her name, Patricia Macmillan.
“According to Dr. Adams’ notes, Mr. Butler was brought in early this morning,” Chandra recited distractedly. If his skin wasn’t the color of old leather, Hawk would have thought he came straight from the Midwest. “He suffered a skull fracture and multiple lacerations on his right arm and neck. He lost a lot of blood and received two transfusions. He was also recovering from hypothermia due to exposure but there are no signs of frostbite. His most serious wounds have been sutured and he’s been treated for tetanus. We’ll begin rabies inoculations later today.” He handed the clipboard back to Trisha. “Is there anything else you need to know, Mr. Hawk?”
“What about his head?”
“X-rays and a CT scan showed a hairline fracture with no displacement and trauma consistent with a concussion. No further treatment is planned for his skull injury unless something changes for the worse.”
“She said he hasn’t woken up yet. That sounds serious.”
“It’s not unusual for injuries like his, especially when you factor in the hypothermia. If he doesn’t awaken naturally by tonight, we’ll take another look. Is there anything else?” Chandra didn’t look at his watch but his body language very clearly said that he needed to be somewhere else. Hawk shook his head silently. “You’ll need to authorize his treatment plan and provide his insurance information if you have it. Trisha will take care of everything.” Chandra disappeared through the door without waiting for an acknowledgement.
“Sorry,” Trisha said by way of apology. “We’re a bit swamped right now.”
Hawk just grunted, glowering at Lucas’s bandaged face. “What was that about rabies? Was he bitten by a raccoon or something?”
“No, a dog, a very big one according to Dr. Adams.” Hawk looked up in surprise and a hint of something else. “The police are looking for the mugger and his dog. If they can find them quickly enough, your friend might not need the rabies shots.”
“A dog,” Hawk murmured to himself. “Fuck.”
Trisha treated too many drunken college students to be offended by his language. “There’s nothing more we can do except wait for his body to heal itself,” she told him. “You’re welcome to stay with him.”
Hawk shook his head grimly. “No, I need to call someone. I’ll come back later.” He strode to the door and flung it open. He was halfway down the hallway before Trisha caught up with him.
“Mr. Hawk, if you could just take care of his insurance paperwork, we can get him moved up to the trauma ward,” she said a bit breathlessly. “They’re better equipped to keep an eye on him.”
For a moment, it looked like Hawk would just march straight out into the lobby, but he came to a halt with a growl of frustration. “Fine. Make it quick.”
Trisha led him to the nurses station and quickly ran him through the dozen forms the hospital required, pointing out what to read and where to sign. His signature was an illegible scrawl but they made quick work of the chore.
“I just need to copy your driver’s license and insurance card and then we’re done.” He silently dug the cards out of his thick wallet and handed them over. Trisha scanned them quickly and returned them a minute later. “You’re good to go, Mr. Hawk. Oh, before I forget. Can we get a contact number for you? We can let you know when Mr. Butler wakes up.” Or takes a turn for the worse, she thought, but she didn’t say that out loud. Hawk scribbled it on the back of one of the forms and she frowned at the area code. “You’re from New York?” she asked. “What are you doing in Boston?”
“Visiting,” he told her curtly. “Are we done?”
“Yes. Thank you for coming in, Mr. Hawk. I’m sure Mr. Butler appreciates it.” That earned her a noncommittal grunt as he headed for the door, but then he stopped as if something had just occurred to him. He turned back with an odd sort of expression.
“Thanks,” he told her. It clearly wasn’t something he said all that often. “Take care of him for me.”
“We will,” she promised. He nodded and disappeared behind the double doors.
Cindy looked at Trisha with a bemused look. “That was different,” she observed. “Was he another cop?”
“No. At least I don’t think so.”
“He looks more like a bodyguard for a Mafia boss.”
Trisha snorted. “He’s not tall enough
for that.” He was only a couple of inches taller than she was, but certainly very fit and muscular. He looked like ex-military with his short hair and square jaw, someone who made his living with his brawn rather than his brain.
She gathered the scattered papers and tapped them on the counter to square them up, adding them to Butler’s clipboard before they disappeared. The hospital administration would have a fit if she lost the insurance paperwork before she got it all entered in the system.
The top sheet was the photocopy of Hawk’s license and insurance. His picture looked like a mugshot of an angry boxer, which hardly did him justice. He actually wasn’t a bad-looking man, although he’d be a lot more appealing if he would just smile.
Her eyes strayed to the insurance information, wondering if his company name would give her a clue as to what sort of work Hawk and Butler did. To her surprise, she recognized the company instantly, but then just about everyone who paid attention to the news knew the name of Pendragon Security.
4
Her phone rang discretely, a soft chiming from the sequined clutch tucked under her arm. She interrupted the Minister’s story with an upraised hand and a demure Excusez-moi and stepped away to the long bank of windows to take the call. Outside, the sun had just set and the City of Lights lived up to its sobriquet. A blanket of golden stars stretched out across the landscape as far as the eye could see in the crisp winter air and the Eiffel Tower rose above the city like a Christmas tree.
“Vous êtes on rétard.” she said. She expected his call before she had to leave for the reception.
“Désolé,” he said, although he didn’t sound sorry at all. “We have a problem.”
“What is it?” Although she faced the windows, her gaze was focused on the reflection of the room behind her, making sure that none of the other guests came close enough to overhear.
“Butler is in the hospital.”
She considered the ramifications of that simple statement. He was correct, that put the entire mission in jeopardy. “He’s still alive, then?”
“Yes, but he’s unconscious, possibly in a coma.”
“What happened?”
“Savard was tailing him but Butler spotted him somehow. They fought and Savard got a little ... over-aggressive. Butler ended up cracking his skull on the sidewalk. Savard isn’t in much better shape,” he added as an afterthought.
“So now the police are involved.” She didn’t bother pointing out that Butler’s life was infinitely more important than Savard’s right now.
“Savard cleaned out his pockets and called 911 anonymously so Butler wouldn’t freeze to death before someone found him. The police think they’re dealing with a mugging and they have no idea who Butler is. They won’t be a factor.”
“Was there anything about the Quest in his belongings?” She couldn’t completely disguise the eagerness in her voice.
“Nothing obvious, but we’ll keep digging through it. We have no idea what he was doing out on the streets last night. It was colder than – well, it had to have been important.”
“Can we take advantage of this situation? Are we able to search his rooms?”
“Doubtful, but we’re trying. He’s staying at one of the Pendragon properties in town and their security is the best on the planet.”
“Vraiment,” she agreed grudgingly. “Work quickly. It won’t take them long to realize that Butler is missing.”
“Has your agent picked up any more information? We’re working blind here. We might be staring right at the target and not know it.”
She considered his question carefully. It had taken years of careful planning and manipulation to insert a mole deep enough into Pendragon Security to keep an eye on their key operatives. Any contact, however fleeting, risked undoing all that, but Quests appeared so rarely every opportunity had to be seized immediately. “I’ll look into it,” she said. “What will you do in the meantime?”
“Pray that Butler recovers and carries on before the Quest decides he’s no longer worthy,” he said wryly. “I’ll keep an eye on him in case any of his friends show up.”
“Very well. Call me as soon as anything changes.”
“D’accord. Au revoir.”
“Bonne chance.” He chuckled humorlessly as he hung up.
She tucked her phone away in her clutch but stayed by the windows, gazing out at the cloudless sky. Somewhere out there, thousands of miles away, she was probably just sitting down to lunch and she wondered, as she often did when she was alone, what she was thinking. Does she still fear me, she thought somberly, as I do her?
She watched the Minister’s reflection approach and bow with a smile. “Madame?” he asked, proffering his arm to her. “C’est l’heure.” Behind him, the other guests were setting their cocktail glasses aside and moving towards the dining room.
“Merci beaucoup,” she said, putting on a smile of her own and letting him lead her away from her melancholy thoughts.
5
Hawk drove slowly along Tremont, scowling at the street numbers. The buildings on the left stood shoulder to shoulder with barely any space in between them, looming overhead like a massive windswept glacier with a view of the park across the way. Most of the street-level space was taken up by shops and upscale businesses, but the condos and apartments on the upper floors had to run upwards of a million dollars each.
“165, right?” he growled. The brass plaque hung on the wall beside the glass doors, but there was no other indication of what lay beyond.
“Correct.” The Bluetooth headset wrapped around his right ear made it sound like Nim was sitting right beside him, instead of in her Manhattan office two hundred miles away. “On the twelfth floor.”
“There’s no place to park,” he complained irritably. There weren’t even any parking meters along the sidewalk.
“Parking is in the rear. You’ll have to circle around the block.”
“Now you tell me.” He pulled into a gap in the left lane that opened up when the other driver hesitated a fraction of a second too long. He ignored the honk behind him. “Are you going to transfer Lucas back to New York?”
“I don’t want to move him until he’s conscious. Massachusetts General is a good hospital, they’ll take good care of him.” He wondered if Nim was trying to convince him or herself.
“Someone needs to be with him in case Savard tries again.”
“The local office is sending someone over to protect him. You really think it was Savard? He dropped out of sight years ago.”
“Him or one of his pack. A human couldn’t have chewed him up like that and a regular dog wouldn’t have put him in the hospital.”
Nim made a noncommittal noise. “We’ll know for sure when Lucas wakes up.” Hawk appreciated her optimism. “In the meantime, find out what you can about his Quest. Do whatever you need to do to keep it going until he recovers.”
“It’ll go a lot easier if you just tell me what he was looking for.” He turned left at the light and then left again, looking for the entrance for the garage. Mason Street was just a narrow alley squeezed between two rows of buildings. The only people back here were residents and employees of the businesses on either side.
“I wish I could,” Nim sighed. “Lucas wore the tracker so we could find him if something went wrong, but I ordered him to keep the details of the Quest to himself.”
“Why the hell would you do that?” he asked incredulously. He pulled up to the gate blocking the way into 165 Tremont’s garage and opened his window. All the warm air in the car rushed out as he leaned over and inserted his Pendragon pass key into the reader. After a moment, the gate rumbled to the side and he pulled in, searching for an open slot. “I know it’s been a while since the last one, but I remember the whole team helping out.”
He pulled into a space not far from the elevator and shut off the engine, grabbing his bag from the passenger seat as he got out. His car looked out of place between the Mercedes on one side and the BMW on the other. Nim s
till hadn’t answered by the time he punched the up button. “Nim?” he asked suspiciously. “What’s so special about this Quest?”
“They’re all special,” she reminded him acerbically. “I didn’t want to risk anyone outside the organization finding out what Lucas was doing.”
“Well, that worked out great, didn’t it?” he snapped. The elevator doors opened and he stabbed the 12 button with his finger. “What’s going on, Nim? I’m a big boy, I can handle the truth.”
“Only three people knew about the Quest: Lucas, me, and Arthur. Lucas came straight to us after his first vision and he was out the door and on his way less than an hour later. No one should have even suspected anything was going on.”
“Someone obviously did.” The elevator dinged and let him out on the twelfth floor. According to the discreet sign mounted on the wall across the hall, 1201 was to the left. “You think we’ve been compromised.”
“Yes,” Nim admitted. “They’ve been just lucky enough in disrupting our operations over the last few years that I began to think luck wasn’t involved. We’ve been conducting a discrete head-by-head review of the entire headquarters staff, but that’s thousands of people.”
“Plus all the contractors and the janitors and the delivery people and the visitors.” He stopped in front of 1201, eyeing the electronic lock.
“Believe me, I’m well aware of how long the list is, but we have to proceed carefully. We don’t want them realizing what we’re up to.”
“Since if they don’t know we’ve uncovered their spy, we can feed them false information. What’s the door code?”
“251092.” Hawk inserted his pass key and tapped in the code. The indicator blinked red twice and then green. The door latch turned easily under his hand and he stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind him and turning the deadbolt before surveying his surroundings. “I’m in. I’ll see what I find here and call you back.”