WEATHER HAD HER EYES TO THE OPERATING MICROSCOPE while her hands made the delicate loops that produced square knots in the nearly invisible suture material. She'd just said, ''If you actually listen to The Doors you start to laugh; listen to the words of 'L. A. Woman' sometime and tell me they're not.. .''
The door banged open and she almost jumped, and everybodyturned and, without looking up, she said, ''Who in the fuck did that?''
''I did,'' LaChaise said.
Weather finished the knot and then looked up from the scope, blinked and saw him there, with the two pistols.
''Who's Weather Karkinnen?''
''I am,'' Weather said. He pointed a pistol at her and she closed her eyes.
''Come out of there.''
She opened her eyes again and said, ''I can't stop now. If I stop now, this little girl will lose her thumb and she'll go through life like that.''
LaChaise took a mental step back, confused: ''What?''
''I said, if I quit now…''
''I heard that,'' he snapped. ''What're you doing?''
''I'm hooking up an artery. She had a benign tumor and we removed it and now we're hooking up the two ends of the artery to get the blood supply going again.''
''Well, how long will it take?''
Weather looked back through the operating microscope. ''Twenty minutes.''
''You've got five,'' he said. And he said, ''You're really short for a doctor.''
Weather looked away again, and asked, ''Are you going to kill everybody in here?''
''Depends,'' LaChaise said.
''If I get another doctor in here, he could finish for me.''
''Get him.''
''Not if you're going to hurt him, or the others.''
''I won't hurt him if he doesn't fuck with me.''
Weather looked at the circulating nurse and said, ''Betty, go down and ask Dr.
Feldman to step in here, if he would.''
LaChaise looked at the nurse and said, ''Go. And if you fuck with me…''
Weather went back to the microscope and they all waited, silently, her hands barely moving, for two or three minutes, when a man in an operating gown bumped hip-first into the room, his hands at chest level. ''What's going on?''
LaChaise pointed one of the guns at him, and Weather said, ''We've got a gentleman with a gun. Two guns, in fact. He wants to talk with me.''
''The police are coming,'' the new doctor said to LaChaise. In the sterile operating theater, LaChaise looked like a rat on a cheesecake.
''They're always coming,'' LaChaise said.
''However this works out, we've got to finish this,'' Weather said to Feldman, her voice steady. ''Could you take a look?''
The operating scope had two eyepieces, and Feldman, his hands still pressed to his chest, stepped to the operating table opposite Weather and looked into the second eyepiece. ''You're almost done.''
''I need to put in two more knots, and then it's a matter of closing…''
She gave him a quick brief on the operation, and finished one of the two knots.
''One more,'' she said.
''I've got to go down and back off mine,'' Feldman said.
''How far are you in?'' Weather asked.
''Not in,'' Feldman said. ''We were just getting the anesthesia started…
I'll be back.''
He went with such authority that LaChaise let him go without objection. Weather was working in the incision again, and one of the nurses said, ''If I stay here,
I'll pee my pants.''
''Then go,'' Weather said. ''Everybody else okay?''
They were okay. The nurse who thought she might pee her pants decided to stay with them.
Feldman returned: ''Where are we?''
''Just finishing,'' Weather said calmly. ''See?''
Feldman looked through the scope and said, ''Nice. But I think you might need one more, at…''
He was stalling. Weather said, ''I think that should be all right.'' Feldman looked at her and she gave a small shake of the head. ''You sure?''
''Better to get him out of here,'' Weather said.
''What's going on?'' LaChaise demanded.
''Trying to figure out what we can do here,'' Feldman snapped. ''We're right in the middle of things.''
Weather stepped back from the table. ''But I'm done,'' she said. She looked at
LaChaise. ''Now what?''
''Outa here. We need a phone. Someplace where they can't get at me.''
''There's an office at the end of the hall.''
''Let's go,'' he said, waving the pistol at her.
THE OUTER AREA WAS DESERTED. THE NURSES HAD gone, and the cops hadn't arrived yet. Weather pulled off her mask and peeled off the first of her gloves and said, ''What're you going to do?''
''Talk to your old man,'' LaChaise said.
And kill her, while they were on the phone, she thought. She came to the office and said, ''In there. There's a phone.''
She gestured and she went through ahead of him, turned. ''You have a lot of choices to make,'' she said.
''Shut up. What's your old man's number?''
''You could probably dial 911 and they could patch you through. He's out there in his car.''
''Do it, and hand me the phone…''
Weather punched 911 and handed it to him. He listened a minute, the gun muzzle steady on her chest, and said, ''This is Dick LaChaise. I want to talk to Lucas
Davenport. I'm at the hospital and I'm pointing a gun at his old lady, Dr.
Karkinnen.''
Weather said, ''You don't have much time left: you better start thinking this through.''
''I said, shut up.''
''Why? Because if I don't you're gonna kill me? You're already planning to kill me.''
''You don't want it to come no sooner than it has to…'' Then he said to the phone, ''Well, get him on. Well, when is he gonna be… Yeah? You tell him to call…'' He looked at the phone, but there was no number, and he looked at
Weather.
''The surgery suite,'' Weather said. Lucas wouldn't get on the phone. He knew what LaChaise would do.
''The surgery suite,'' LaChaise repeated, and he hung up. ''He's on foot somewhere. They're getting him.''
Weather said, ''I've got to sit down,'' and she dropped in the chair on the other side of the desk. ''Look, you're either going to have to shoot me or listen to me, and I think you better listen: My friend Davenport will get here in a few minutes, and if you kill me, he'll kill you. You can forget all about rules and regulations and laws; he'll kill you.''
''Like he killed my old lady and my sister.''
She bobbed her head. ''Yes. He set that up. I talked to him about it, because I couldn't believe he did it. It's caused us some trouble. But when he thinks he's right, he won't turn. And if you kill me…'' She shrugged. ''That's the end for both of us. You won't walk out of here.''
''I ain't walking out anyway.''
Now he looked at her, and she saw that she was still wearing one glove, and she pulled it off slowly, watching his eyes.
''There's no death penalty either in Wisconsin or Minnesota. You escaped once.
You might have to wait for a while, but there's always the chance that you could be free again. One way or another.''
''Bullshit, they're gonna kill me.''
''No, they won't. Not if you wait a while. They have all kinds of rules. And once you're on television, they won't be able to take you off and shoot you somewhere. Once you're in the system, you'll be safe. My husband, my friend.. .''
''Is he your husband or your friend?''
''We're planning to get married in a couple of months. We live together… If you make a deal with him, he won't kill you. But if you shoot me, you can make any kind of deal you want-you can make a deal with the President-and he'll kill you anyway.''
He grinned, and said, ''Yeah, tough guy,'' but he was thinking. He thought about
Martin, probably dead already, going cold in the snow somewhere, and he said,
''They'd stick me in the Black Hole of Calcutta.''
''Probably, for a while,'' she agreed. ''Then something bigger and dirtier would come along, and they'll start to forget about you, and they'll give you a little air. Then you'll have a chance. If you die now… that's it. No court, no TV time, no interviews, no nothing.''