‘Is that meant to make me feel better?’ he demanded
‘Well I hoped it would,’ Emily replied with a half-smile. Dan stared at her for a moment trying to control his temper.
‘I think I’ll make my own way back to Muscat, thank you.’
‘I’m sorry Dan, I didn’t mean…’
‘Why don’t you just fuck off and file your report,’ he muttered, staring down at the table. Emily hesitated for only a moment before silently climbing to her feet. Dan watched the sway of her hips as she walked out of sight and berated himself for still feeling attracted to her. He ordered another beer and reluctantly thought over his financial situation which she had summed up fairly accurately. He had been brooding over it for several minutes when a hotel receptionist hurried into the bar and up to his table.
‘Mr Dan Hall? Your friend Emily called down for us to find you. She’s asking for you to come to her room. She said…it sounded like man down, and the she said I need help; emergency!’
Dan stared at him for a couple of seconds and then leapt to his feet. ‘Have you got a pass key?’ he demanded.
‘Yes sir, I can get one.’
‘Bloody well hurry up then.’
He made the man run to reception, snatched the key off him and then ran to the elevators. ‘Come on, come on!’ Dan fumed while the doors opened, closed and the lift rose slowly up. He ran down the corridor to her room, swiped the key card and pushed open the door. The man slumped on the floor he recognised from the briefing photos as Barry Mulholland. His head was skewed round at an angle that could only mean his neck was broken and close to his feet a bloody knife lay on the carpet. He heard Emily’s laboured breathing and walked into the bedroom. She was lying on the bed staring at the ceiling holding a bloodstained towel to her abdomen. She turned towards him and closed her eyes with relief and then opened them again.
‘Please… I need… help,’ she gasped. These few words seem to cause her a fresh paroxysm because she groaned and Dan saw the sweat break out on her pale face.
Dan paced up and down the hospital waiting room for an hour and a half until a short, competent figure in green theatre overalls came in and offered his hand.
‘I am Suleiman Fawzan, trauma surgeon,’ he declared with a smile that Dan hoped was encouraging. ‘Miss Stevens is no longer in danger, although she has lost some blood. We have had to stitch up her intestine and her abdominal muscles. In view of her pregnancy, and the risk of peritonitis or other infection resulting from the wound, we wish to keep her in hospital for a few days. The knife blade was not close to her uterus and despite the drop in blood pressure it is most unlikely that her baby suffered any ill effects at all, not at her early stage of pregnancy.’ Dan stared open mouthed at the surgeon, relief at knowing she would be alright tinged with a sudden unreasonable regret that she was clearly attached to some man although she had given no hint of there being anyone in her life.
‘Thank you ever so much,’ he managed to say. He held out his hand and the surgeon shook it with a smile.
‘It is clearly a surprise to you,’ he said. ‘Very early stages of course but we picked it up on the scan; as a matter of routine we check for pregnancy in cases of abdominal trauma. She’s being taken to intensive care ward two. Just give them ten minutes and then you can go in and see her,’ he said. ‘Oh I must warn you that the police are here as well, but I have told them that she is in no fit state to be interviewed at the moment, but of course they’ll want to speak to you.’
Dan followed the signs to IC Ward 2 where a nurse led him to Emily who was propped up in bed. She looked pale and had a drip inserted but she managed a smile as he walked in.
‘You’re looking good Emily,’ he said. ‘You gave me a hell of a fright.’
‘I’m sorry. I should have taken more care going into my room.’
‘That could have been my fault,’ he conceded, ‘I’d just told you to… well you were only doing your job I guess.’
‘I know, but it wasn’t very nice for you finding out that I’d been delving into your private affairs,’ she admitted.
‘Well ok… never mind. Anyway the surgeon tells me you’ll be fine and there’s no danger to your baby.’ Her smile evaporated and she frowned.
‘My what?’
‘Your baby… the surgeon explained you were pregnant but the knife missed…’ He stopped when he realised that she was staring at him aghast.
‘I’m what? How the hell? I can’t be!’ she gazed up at the ceiling in slack-jawed confusion.
‘Sorry I thought you’d know; I didn’t think it would come as such a shock,’ he said. She looked at him for a moment and then stared up at the ceiling breathing hard.
The next day Richard Davies called on him in his hotel and said that he had cleared it with the local authorities for Dan to return to Oman. He went to the hospital to say goodbye. She was quiet and unsmiling but thanked him again for his assistance and they wished each other well. ‘How long will you have to stay here?’ he asked.
‘Probably three days in the ICW, then perhaps another two weeks in hospital before the stitches come out. I won’t be fit to travel for a while after that.’
‘I’ll come and visit you in about a week if that’s alright,’ he suggested.
She managed a small smile. ‘Ok that would be nice. I expect I’ll have Richard Davies coming over here demanding a report.’
‘He’s over here already. I’ve just come from him.’
‘Oh… ok.’ She hesitated, looking uncomfortable. ‘Look I don’t know how to bring this up nicely, but I put a call tracker on your hotel room phone when I checked us in. Could you remove it from underneath; you’ll need a small crosshead screwdriver, and also that mobile phone I gave you; it’s best you hand that to Richard as well’ She looked apologetic but Dan glared at her.
‘I suppose those devices reported any calls I made.’
She gave a small nod.
Six days later Dan drove from Muscat back to Fujairah and walked into the hospital reception. On enquiring into the whereabouts of Emily Stevens he was told that she had been transferred to a private nursing home and that the hospital was not authorised to reveal its location. He drove back to Muscat in sombre mood and called on Richard Davies.
‘Sorry Dan. I can tell you she’s safe and well, but I can’t give you any contact information.’ Davies watched him walk dejectedly back to his car. He shook his head and made a telephone call to a friend in the United States Embassy. Two days later Dan Hall received an airline ticket to Kuwait along with orders to proceed onward to Baghdad where elements of the US Marine Corps were stationed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Gerry yawned and gazed dully at the message from Richard Cornwall that had appeared in a red rectangle on the computer screen in front of her asking if she could come and see him immediately. Rather than jumping to her feet she took off her headphones, slumped back in her chair and placed her hand where her body was just beginning to swell. She took out her picture of Philip, stared at it for a moment and then tucked it back into her desk drawer while she recalled the occasion two weeks ago when she had last received such a message from her boss…
It was a week after her return to work after her convalescence. She had been wondering if she should send Phil an e-mail to reveal that she was pregnant or wait until he got home. In general potentially distracting news should definitely not be sent to agents in the field, but then Phil was not really exposed in the front line. Her reverie had ended abruptly when her computer bleeped and she saw that she had a summons from Cornwall. She checked the time: 11:37am. She was sure she was not due to meet him until the afternoon. Damn! She quickly checked her appointments and then picked up the phone and called him. ‘Hello sir,’ she said cheerfully, ‘I’m coming in to see you this afternoon, 2pm.’