His bed was a solid slab of concrete with a thin mattress. The cell had nothing more than a hole in the floor for a toilet and a stainless steel sink with warm water coming out of one tap. Those were the only things in the room.
It was almost like movies depict solitary confinement where the bad guy is locked up with nothing but the clothes on his back and little to eat. The mental images of Steve McQueen in the movie Papillion, when he was placed in solitary confinement, flashed across his mind. Lord, he hoped he didn’t look like that. Who was looking for him? He had to be reported as missing by now, so if he could hang on long enough, someone would have to find him, right?
“Get up,” the guard said. Raymond blinked his eyes. He didn’t even realize he had been sleeping. He slowly stood, using the wall for support.
“Hand out your pants, socks and shoes.”
“Why?”
“Do what you’re told or I will come in and do it for you,” the guard snarled.
Raymond slowly removed his shoes, socks, and pants and handed them through the slot. The guard passed back a set of camouflage fatigues and a pair of fresh socks and military boots.
Well, Raymond though, at least I am getting a fresh change of clothes. He would have liked a fresh shirt and pair of underwear, but this was a step in the right direction. Nine marks were now scratched in the wall by his mattress. His whiskers were past the scratchy stage and starting to turn into a beard. If he just had a mirror he could have seen how he looked. He had always wondered how he would look in a beard, now he had the beard but no way to see how it looked on him. Life is just not fair sometimes, he thought, and then laughed out loud at the irony. Like not having a mirror was his real problem.
CHAPTER SIXTY
Angie Beck had been working at the base infirmary for over six years and was capable of handling most of the routine situations that came up. She was always cheerful and everyone seemed to know and respect her. In fact, she had likely attended to almost everyone there at one time or the other. She had done everything from giving routine shots, performing an emergency tracheotomy, and even delivering two babies. Her worst duties had been attending to burn victims and occasionally, a broken bone.
Doctor Campbell, the base surgeon, was currently away at a training seminar in Las Vegas. At least that is what his orders stated. The golf clubs were a dead giveaway that more than medicine was going to be discussed. It was just starting to get dark, and she was finishing filling out paperwork and looking over the medical inventory supply list before calling it a night, when two security officers came.
“Hi guys, what can I do for you?”
“We have sort of an emergency situation. We have a guy in custody and he has been acting crazy. We had to restrain him because he was trying to bash his own head in against the cell door. He tore most of his clothes off. We called the general and he wants someone to take blood samples and have them sent off for testing,” one of the men said.
“Why would he want to do that? A blood test isn’t going to tell you anything about acting crazy. Is he drunk?”
“No, he isn’t drunk, and that’s not the point anyway. The general said for us to get a blood test done on the guy,” he replied.
“I can take a look at him and run some tests myself to see what’s going on with the guy,” she said.
“Look, Angie, all I know is what the general said he wanted done. You know how he is. He probably watched a medical show on television last night and now thinks he knows what should be done.”
“But taking a blood sample isn’t going to give us results nearly as quickly as having me check him out.”
“Unless it’s drugs,” the other security man added,
“I guess it could be a possibility,” she answered.
“Angie, please. I’ve been in enough hot water with him lately. Would you mind just doing what he wants? What harm would it do and it would keep him off my ass,” he said, giving her his best, poor me look.
“Damn it Jon, this makes no sense at all but I know how he is. He gets a bug up his butt and everyone has to jump. Okay, bring him in and I’ll drain the poor bastard if that will please his holiness, even though it doesn’t make a lick of sense to me,” Angie said.
“That’s the other thing. He isn’t with us. We have him in isolation. The supreme ruler of the land,” he said, trying to lighten the situation, “Wants him kept away from everyone until he has the results back from the blood tests. He even has a medevac standing by to take the blood to Vegas,” he said.
She looked at the two guards like they had lost their minds. The general was definitely a very strange bird, she thought.
“So where is the poor guy?”
“At Beacon.”
“Good Lord. All the way out there? That’s in no-man’s land.”
“He wants him away from everybody and everything. We need to get going if we are going to get you back at a decent hour,” he said, “Better grab your coat, it will be dark by the time we make the round trip and drop off the samples at the chopper.”
Angie grabbed her coat and her medical bag, checking first to see if she had everything she needed. The general has rocks for brains, she thought, as they started off for the southernmost point of the Nellis range. It would take them forty-five minutes to reach Beacon
Raymond was half asleep, in that twilight zone where you are not quite sure if you are a wake or sleeping. He was sitting on the floor with his head back against the wall. he cell door opened and three guards came in. They grabbed him up off the floor and handcuffed his hands behind his back. He was tossed on the mattress and his legs were cuffed as well.
“What’s going on?” he asked, realizing that this was no dream.
The guards said nothing but shoved a wad of cloth in his mouth and wrapped a band around it. He tried to say something but it was just mumbling that came out. They looped a second pair of cuffs to a steel ring in the wall and attached them to the leg cuffs so that he couldn’t get off the bed.
“Someone is going to come in here in a few minutes and take a blood sample. If you so much as struggle one bit, when they leave, your ass will be mine. I have permission to do as I please, so you had better just lie there and cooperate. You got it?” he said, pulling Raymond up by his hair.
He tried to say yes, but only muttered sounds came out.
“You damn well better do what you're told,” he said and shoved Raymond's head back against the thin mattress.
Now what the hell, Raymond thought? Why blood samples? Maybe they were using him as a bargaining chip and needed to show proof that they had him. Maybe he could use this to his advantage he thought, but how? He moved around so he could feel the rip in the mattress and he pulled the security card out and laid it under him.
Twenty minutes is a long time when you have a gag in your mouth and handcuffs that are on too tight. He could hear steps coming his way so he took a deep breath through his nose and relaxed. The cell door opened and two guards and a short, plump woman with dark hair streaked with gray came in. She seemed nervous. He looked at her intently, trying to hold her attention. The two guards stood nearby as she opened her medical kit.
“Do you keep him like this?” she asked.
“We usually don’t have the gag on but he starts yelling and cursing. He has the foulest mouth you have ever heard. We thought it best to not put you through that. You don’t need to listen to that filth,” Jon said.
“Well, we have to do something about his hands being behind his back. I can’t get a blood sample with him like that,” she said.