CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER
STEERS SLOWLY OPENED HER EYES. However, the lights were intense and she closed them reflexively. She was tired, in pain, and desperately confused.
She opened her eyes once more, and then Steers turned her head from one side to the other.
The hospital room was cluttered with machines buzzing and chirping.
She tried to sit up but felt restrained.
She tried again but her strength failed her.
She could hear voices from somewhere but could not make out what was being said.
She lifted a hand and touched her neck, feeling the large bandage there and then the tape over it.
They tried to kill me. My own people tried to kill me.
She remembered the knife striking her, the gush of blood, and then Dillon Hope had killed her attacker, hurled her into the car, and then bullets started coming from everywhere.
Then more shots were fired. And then they had driven off, rapidly.
Her body had been flung around with the force of the car maneuvers Hope was employing.
He had said something as things kept hitting the car and windows with incredible force, but she could not hear him clearly.
And then her mind had turned off and Steers remembered nothing more. Until she had opened her eyes just now.
“Victoria-san?”
She looked up to see him standing over her. His face and white shirt were bloodied.
With my blood?
She slowly eased her head from side to side, trying to. . .She closed her eyes.
Nash looked down at her. She was alive, and he was terribly conflicted about that.
If she had died, it would be so much easier. My nightmare would be over. So why is part of me so relieved that she survived?
He pushed these thoughts from his mind and said, “The doctors stitched you up, filled you back up with blood, and your vitals are strong.”
“You brought me here?” asked Steers as she once more opened her eyes.
The same nurse who had taken care of Nash’s wound walked up to the bed. “Yes, he carried you in himself. Otherwise you would not be alive now.” She checked the wound, dispensed some meds into a port they had placed in Steers’s forearm, and left.
Nash sat in a chair next to her.
She looked at him and said, “He cut me.”
“Yes, it was Hao. I—”
“You killed him. This I remember seeing.”
“I didn’t know you had been wounded. I would have driven you straight here if I had known. It was my mistake. I’m sorry, Victoriasan. You could have died.”
She reached through the bed’s side bars and gripped his hand. “You saved my life. Like the nurse said, I would be gone but for you.”
Her touch suddenly maddened Nash. The police officer had been right. All murderers should be punished.
And yet cows, Hiroko had said. Cows are strange beasts indeed, then.
“You were hurt as well!”
He looked up to see her staring at his bandaged arm. “Looks far worse than it is.”
She relaxed and said, “I am happy it was nothing more.”
“Hao must have been working for one of your enemies.”
She released his hand and lay back. “The fact that this caught me unawares pains me even more than this,” she said, touching the bandage on her neck.
“But you’re still here and he isn’t. Which means we can find out who’s behind this.”
“My other men? They are dead?”
“Yes. All of them. They were obviously not part of it. Only Hao.”
“Only Hao,” she repeated dully. She glanced at him. “You are now my protection.”
“Me and Thura, yes. Until you hire a new team.”
“I do not wish a new team, Dillon-san. You are my team.”
“What, why?” he said in surprise.
“Because you have more than proven your loyalty.”
And here I had almost let her bleed out in the car. And part of me wanted her to die. “You need to rest. And then you can make decisions.”
She closed her eyes and, probably due to the meds put into her port, was soon asleep.
And not for the first time since his nightmare had commenced, Walter Nash had no idea what he was supposed to do.
He had previously bought a burner phone with cash. He now slipped out of the hospital room and left a voicemail for Agent Morris, telling him about the assassination attempt.
Over time Nash had made recordings of discussions he’d overheard with Steers and her associates.
In addition, he had chronicled his observations, including Masuyo’s information drops in the park.
Using the burner phone he had sent all this, and the photos of Maggie’s things in the box, to Agent Morris via the secure portal the man had provided.
He’d then deleted everything, including the portal, from his phone in case anyone tried to force him to reveal what was on it.
As soon as he returned to the hospital room his phone buzzed. It was Thura.
“We got a package delivered here, Dillon. It showed up in the lobby. The reception guy said some dude left it and then rushed out. Weird as shit. And with what happened to Ms. Steers I called the police. They scanned the exterior for bomb stuff and it was clean, so they left without opening it. They couldn’t tell me what was inside from the scan. So what do I do?”
Nash gave him the address of the hospital and told him to get here as soon as he could. When Thura arrived a half hour later, Nash instructed him to remain in Steers’s room until he got back. “Eyes on her at all times. You never leave.”
“Right.”
Nash grabbed a cab back to the penthouse and rode up in the elevator. He was met by one of Steers’s young female attendants, who had clearly been crying.
“Has. . .will she be all right?” the woman asked.
“Yes, she will. Where is the package?”
She led him into a small room off the dining area where a sturdy box with a lock sat. On top of the box was a letter and a key.
He read the letter. The message was brief: “We are returning your property, Ms. Steers.”
It was unsigned.
Nash looked the case over. It was black with chrome hinges and a clasp lock.
He figured since it had already been checked for any explosives, there was only one thing to do. He took the key and inserted it in the lock.
He counted to three, and then, ready to jump if the thing contained a snake or some other danger, he opened it. When Nash looked inside he saw an object but couldn’t tell what it was because it was wrapped in opaque plastic and tied off at the top.
He lifted it out and set it next to the case.
Drawing a long breath he gingerly undid the tie and pulled the plastic free.
He had to fight back the urge to vomit.
Staring back at him was the severed head of the elderly woman who had been substituted for Masuyo at the prison in Myanmar.