Chapter 27
There was a beeping sound. Frode didn't think it was his alarm, but he couldn't be sure. He couldn't open his eyes; the eyelids were too heavy. He tried a couple of times but allowed the darkness to swallow him again.
The next time the beeping woke him, he grunted.
"Frode." Someone spoke near his ear, and he allowed another grunt. The person moved away and Frode heard him call for someone. Was it Nikolai? He wasn't sure. He believed it was, but he sounded wrecked.
"Hello, Frode." A no-nonsense female voice filled the room. "Are you with us?"
Frode forced one eye open. The room was a little distorted, his eyes unable to focus properly, and there were two clocks on the wall, or were there three? The more he stared at them, the more unsure he got. He closed his eyes again.
The woman asked him questions, pierced his eyes with a light, and patted his arm.
The motion drew his attention to a cannula taped to the back of his hand.
He scrunched his nose. He wasn't a fan of needles and forced his gaze away from it.
Nikolai was standing by the foot end of the bed, looking like he hadn't shaved in days.
Frode focused on the woman again. "Where am I?"
"Saint Agatha's Hospital. You've been stabbed." The woman held onto his gaze.
"Oh." He looked at Nikolai again. "Hjalmar?"
"Home to shower and change. Your parents are on their way. The flight lands later tonight."
Frode groaned, and it had nothing to do with the pain growing sharper by the minute in his belly. Later tonight? What day was it, and how long had he been here?
"When can I go home?" He aimed the question at the woman. He didn't know if she was a doctor or a nurse. She'd most likely told him already, but his brain was fuzzy.
She gave him a fleeting smile. "It'll be some time, I'm afraid. There is a high risk of infection when we're dealing with the stomach. The surgery went well, and no major organs were damaged, but..." She kept on talking, but he spaced out.
"Do you have any questions?"
He couldn't recall what she'd just told him and shook his head, then he looked at his hand with the cannula. "I need my gloves." Who had taken his gloves? Panic crashed into him, and the machine beeped faster.
The woman curled her fingers around his wrist and turned his hand over. His entire palm and fingers were taped with blue medical tape. "Your brother did this. He wasn't pleased to learn someone had removed your gloves."
Frode winced. Hjalmar could be loud when he wasn't pleased.
"Is it sufficient for now?"
Frode nodded. He feared the tape might come off, but he trusted Hjalmar to have done a good enough job for now.
"Press the button if you need anything." Then she breezed out of the room.
It took effort to turn his head to Nikolai, and his eyelids were drooping. "It was Saylor."
"We know." Nikolai was by his side between one blink and the next.
"Did you get him?"
Nikolai looked grim. "They're looking."
Frode's eyes popped open. "You didn't get him?"
Nikolai sighed. "They will. Don't worry. Saylor might be smart, but there is a manhunt. Altman is already in custody."
Fear swept through Frode, and the machine beeped faster again.
"Hey." Nikolai kissed his forehead. "Don't worry. There is an officer outside your room, and Hjalmar and I will be here until he's caught."
Hjalmar. The fear didn't subside. "What if he comes for Hjalmar when he's out there?"
Nikolai shook his head. "He's safe."
"You don't know that."
"Yes, he does." Hjalmar walked into the room, face pale and drawn, but unharmed.
Frode let out a breath and melted into the pillow.
"How are you feeling?" Hjalmar squeezed his shoulder.
"Fuzzy. How many clocks are there on the wall? It looked like three, but now I think there are two."
Hjalmar snorted a laugh. "Sounds plausible."
It took all his energy to produce a smile, but he did it, then he closed his eyes and drifted off.
* * * *
Nikolai blew out a breath when Frode fell asleep. A fist squeezed his heart, but he had woken up. The more time that had passed, the stronger the fear of never seeing Frode's eyes again had grown.
"Was he awake for long?"
Nikolai shook his head and looked over at Hjalmar. He looked like shit, though Nikolai suspected he didn't look any better. He most likely looked worse. Hjalmar had showered and shaved; Nikolai hadn't. He rubbed his chin and grimaced.
"I don't know how much he understood of what the doctor told him. He appeared to be spacing out."
Hjalmar nodded. "Anything new on Saylor?"
Nikolai checked his phone. "Nothing." How hard could it be to find one man?
"They'll get him. His photo is all over."
"Yeah?"
"Yes. Medlin held a press conference, asking the public to report any sightings of him. I'm not envious of those who have to take the calls."
Nikolai huffed.
"Hey, why don't you head home to shower and change, grab something to eat."
Nikolai was about to protest when Hjalmar raised an eyebrow at him. "He'll most likely sleep for some time now, and I promised to get Mom and Dad when they land, and I don't want him to be alone then."
Sighing, Nikolai rubbed a hand over his face. "Fine. But I'll be back in half an hour."
"Take your time. I'll call if he wakes." Hjalmar pulled the armchair placed in the corner by the window closer to the bed, sat, kicked off his shoes, and rested his feet on the edge of Frode's mattress. He might be the picture of relaxation, but he wouldn't allow anyone to get close to Frode.
Nikolai sighed, bent over the bed, and kissed Frode's forehead. "I'll be back soon."
Hjalmar waved and got his phone out of his pocket.
It was hard to walk away. He followed the corridor to the elevator and hesitated.
Maybe it would be better if he stayed. He wasn't planning on seeing anyone, so what did it matter if he wasn't his freshest?
Then he remembered Frode's parents would arrive this evening and sighed.
He pressed the elevator button and waited.
Riding to the entrance floor, he realized he didn't know where his car was parked. Isaac had handed his key over, but where had he said he'd parked? Nikolai hadn't been paying attention.
He grabbed his phone and called. There were people coming and going, so he tried to find a quiet corner away from the reception desk.
"Elmore."
"Hi, it's me. Where did you say you parked my car?"
An amused huff. "Parking garage across the street from the entrance. You're on the third floor, near the end of the row right outside the elevator."
Nikolai headed toward the door. "Thank you."
"Is he awake?"
"He woke, the doctor talked to him, but I don't know how much he understood of it. He said there were three clocks on the wall, so...He asked if we've caught Saylor, though, so I think he remembers what happened."
"Green and Ramirez want to talk to him."
"Tell them not until tomorrow."
"I'll see what I can do, but Green is a fucking nightmare."
Nikolai jogged across the street and walked into the parking garage. He spotted the elevator to his left and walked toward it. "I didn't think he cared about Frode."
Isaac grunted. "I don't think he does, but this will look bad in his report.
He kept us there, going through what we'd found over and over when we wanted to go to Frode because we were worried.
Had he allowed us to leave ten, maybe even five minutes earlier, we could've caught Saylor before he hurt Frode.
" Isaac almost sounded gleeful. A testament to how much he disliked Green since Nikolai knew he wasn't pleased about Frode being hurt.
"I'm heading home to shower and change, then I'll be back here."
The elevator arrived, and Nikolai stepped in.
"I'm in the elevator now so the call might disconnect."
"Okay. I'll keep you posted."
They ended the call and Nikolai found the car where Isaac had said it would be. He was in a weird kind of bubble as he drove. Acutely aware of the reality around him, and yet it was as if he was operating in a dream. Maybe he was more tired than he'd realized.
He parked outside his apartment building and jogged up the stairs to his apartment, not noticing anything weird until the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
He whirled around when he had two steps left to his landing and jumped out of the way just in time.
A black-clad figure swiped at him, but Nikolai managed to push the arm away at the same time as he shoved the man down the stairs.
He wore a black balaclava, but wide eyes met his as he lost his balance.
Something metal gleamed in the man's hand, and Nikolai roared. A fucking scalpel.
He rushed down the few steps the man had fallen and kicked the hand with the scalpel as he drew his gun from the holster on his hip. "Freeze! Police!"
Furious eyes glared at him, and Nikolai didn't need him to remove the balaclava to know it was Saylor.
An apartment door on the floor above opened, and footsteps hurried toward him. Nikolai kept the gun aimed at Saylor. "Call the police, say Detective Nesterova has Saylor and give them the address."
"What?" The voice shook, sounding young. Nikolai chanced a glance. A teenage boy was staring at him with wide eyes.
"Call the police--" Pain sliced through his calf and a pained shout left him. Fucking hell. He looked down and found another scalpel in Saylor's left hand.
He aimed at his thigh and pressed the trigger. The shot echoed in the staircase, momentarily deafening him. Did he need to shoot him? Maybe not, but he'd claim self-defense.
He meant to crouch, but lost control of his leg and fell on top of Saylor. With the knee of his uninjured leg pressed against Saylor's chest, he managed to get the scalpel out of his hand and threw it some distance away. How many scalpels could one man have?
Once his ears started working again, Saylor's screams almost deafened him. The boy was staring open-mouthed.
"Have you called?"
He shook his head but got his phone out of his pocket. Nikolai grabbed his cuffs. He wanted to flip Saylor over and secure his hands behind his back, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to, and he wouldn't risk him getting away.
There was blood everywhere, and he didn't know how much came from him and how much came from Saylor.
He got his hands secured and kept his knee on him.
"Are they on their way?" He chanced another glance at the pale boy above him.
He nodded. "Yes, ambulance and police. Shouldn't take long."
A perk of living in the city. A lifetime had passed before the ambulance had reached Frode's house, but Nikolai's apartment was only a few minutes away from the EMS station.
He didn't dare relax until shouts were coming from the building's entrance.
"Nikolai!" Isaac's voice was loud.
"Up here!"
Footsteps thundered on the steps, and Isaac appeared in a swarm of uniforms.
Nikolai breathed a sigh of relief and moved off Saylor when two officers told him to. Isaac grabbed his arm. "How bad off are you?"
Nikolai glanced down at his blood-soaked jeans. "No idea. He cut me in the calf."
Isaac nodded. "No arteries or you wouldn't be standing, so I assume you'll be fine."
Nikolai glared.
Sirens sounded from right outside and blue lights flashed through the window.
"I think your ride is here." Isaac didn't let go of his arm as he guided him around Saylor and the officers.
Trying to walk down the steps had black dots forming in his vision, but he managed with one hand on the handrail and Isaac taking some of his weight.
"Green will come and snarl at you any second, so hop into one of the ambulances and escape to the hospital."
Nikolai nodded. He suspected there would be a million questions, but he appreciated Isaac making sure he got some time to settle his mind.
A young woman with long brown hair tied back in a ponytail and dressed like an EMT walked toward him. "This way." She motioned toward one of the two ambulances parked outside at the same time as two EMTs ran into the building with a stretcher.
"What have we got?" She smiled at Nikolai.
"He had a scalpel, cut my calf when I was distracted." Such a rookie mistake.
She nodded, talked him out of his jeans, took one look at the wound, and told him he needed stitches. Nikolai could've guessed as much himself.
She conferred with the driver, and then they closed the doors and got driving.
* * * *