Sam stopped to casually study a painting in the foyer while Virginia approached the reception counter, giving her some privacy. He took in the sprawling vaulted room, complete with lounge, cafeteria and florist. He waited a few minutes before his eyes turned to Virginia.
One glance and he could see how much Virginia carried her father in her stride and countenance. Sam remembered meeting him at an award ceremony that he and Virginia had coincidentally both attended post Afghanistan, and how much pride they showed in each other. Her father was the hardened New York city Paramedic whose daughter had followed in his footsteps.
Virginia had cut her teeth in the Military first, taking training as a Navy combat medic and then helicopter Med-evac specialist, and this was where she and Sam had crossed paths. He had flown some mercy missions for crews against the odds, and found her a ready and capable crew member — and a cracking medic in the most difficult of treatment scenarios. Assessing a major trauma in the back of a moving helicopter is a skill set all of its own and Virginia was always composed, calm and effective, no matter what she was up to her elbows in.
Leaning up against the counter now it struck Sam that Virginia was toughness and femininity combined. She wore black cargo pants into combat boots, and her tightly bound French braids met the back of her plain white t-shirt tucked in up top. It seemed she was still most comfortable in fatigues. Some things just become second nature.
The clip of hard soled flat shoes on the polished faux-marble floor drew Sam’s attention back as a well-rested looking blonde lady in her early thirties came down the counter towards Virginia where she leaned up. She greeted her brightly and asked how she could help today.
“We’re here to see Charles Beaumont, please”
Sam noticed a shift in the body language in the reception woman instantly — something was very wrong. He tensed as he stepped closer to hear what had happened.
“Are you his family Miss…”
“Beaumont.” Virginia nodded. “Yes. I’m his daughter.”
The receptionist made a theatrical sigh for their benefit. “I’m afraid Mr. Beaumont signed himself out this morning against medical advice.”
Virginia stepped closer, looking over the counter. “I’m sorry but you must be mistaken. Could you check for me please?”
“I’m sorry Miss Beaumont but I’m quite certain, you see I processed the paperwork myself. Your father was quite unwell so I was trying to reason with him along with one of the nurses but he insisted. He said it was a family emergency. He left with his sister and her husband.”
“He doesn’t have a sister. In fact, he doesn’t have any family at all aside from me. Could you double check for me please? Charles Beaumont.” Virginia’s voice started to crack.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I remember the man. He was adamant that he had to leave straight away. He said that it was important. There had been a problem with his family and he needed to leave. There was nothing we could do to talk him out of it.”
Sam glanced at the ceiling and counted six inverted black domes placed discreetly in a network of sightlines throughout the expansive area. “Excuse me ma’am, do you have access to the security footage in this area?” Sam asked, approaching the counter alongside Virginia.
“There’s a security office down the hall sir, but I’m not too sure how it all works.”
“Could you show us please? We have reason to believe Charles Beaumont has been coerced to leave…”
The receptionist looked like she wanted to protest that Virginia’s father didn’t look like he was being coerced, but saw something in his face, that dissuaded her from the idea. “Of course. Follow me, please.”
Sam turned to Virginia who looked up at him, her icy blue eyes glassed with emotion and frustration.
“Come on soldier. We’ll find out what happened to him,” he stated as fact.
She maintained eye contact with Sam as she hardened herself and drew in a long hard breath and pushed it out, then picked up her bag and he followed her as she hustled to catch the reception clerk clip clopping down the hall toward the security room.
Sam and Virginia stood in the doorway of the security office, which was about the size of a small store-room. It contained a desk which was joined around three walls with room for one chair. On the wall behind the chair there was another small table housing a drip filter coffee machine, and a few of the other essential dietary components required to survive a nightshift in a setting such as this. The main wall was covered in a matrix of out-of-date monitors each showing a view of the hospital sections, each rotating vision through its various assigned cameras.
It smelled of stale coffee and cheap aftershave. In the one chair sat the classic portly middle-aged security guard. He was dressed in the usual white epauleted garb that says, I’m not police, but I may be useful in an emergency, and you should listen to me generally speaking. The reception clerk was explaining the situation to him and he seemed eager to help. Sam guessed by his reaction that this was probably the first time someone had ever wanted to see any of the vision this system harvested day in and day out.
He typed some commands into a PC on the desk and indicated a screen on the wall. Sam watched as the scratchy playback rolled images of a withered version of the man he had met years before standing at the reception counter, half being held up and half strong-armed by a pair of what looked like police in cheap suits, then watched him get jostled out to a locally produced sedan at the curb. Neither one was talking to each other, except the occasional instruction which seemed to be given by the female of the two accomplices quietly into Charles’ ear, after which he would nod and hang his head.
Virginia was peering at the screen, her face inches from the glass, a look of horror and confusion frozen across her face.
“Do you know those people?” Sam asked her.
“That’s the thing. I’ve never seen them before in my life.”
“We need to find out who they are.”
Sam turned to the guard still leaning back in his office chair. “Sir, is there any chance we can grab a copy of this part of the tape? We think this might be a kidnapping.”
“I don’t see why not,” he answered. “Give me an email and I’ll send you what you just watched. Let me know if it needs to go to law enforcement, too.”
“We will sir. Thank you for your help”
Behind them came a two-tap knock on the doorframe and standing there Sam saw the reception clerk, holding a small basket of yellow flowers. “Miss Beaumont, this is going to sound really strange, but these flowers just arrived for you.”
“I’ll take those,” Sam said.
He gently snatched the basket and made a beeline for the exit door. Stepping outside, he placed the flowers on a sandstone railing in an empty courtyard. He stepped back and examined the package carefully in the afternoon sun. He looked for any sign of powder, grease or shadowing on the accompanying envelope. Seeing none he looked closely among the stems for signs of wiring or a device that constitute ignition components. Nothing. It was just a few daffodils in a small basket with a note attached in a matching yellow envelope.
Sam gingerly opened the envelope, leaving it attached to the rest of the gift, and slipped out the note. He motioned for Virginia to join him from where she stood looking in the threshold of the exit door.
Virginia read the note. Her eyes were wide with fear, her lips parted in a panicked breath.
Sam met her worried look and asked, “What does it say?”
She handed it to him. “Here, read for yourself. I’m afraid I’ve dragged you into my problems, but I don’t know how. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, but I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather be stuck in this sort of mess with. I hope to hell you know what this is all about, because my father’s life now depends upon it.”