The Occam's razor Job, Chapter 2.
Title: The Occam's razor Job
Characters: Nate Ford, Eliot Spencer, Alec Hardison, Parker, Sophie Deveraux, Patrick Bonnano
Fandom: Leverage
Summary: I have no idea where I am
Spoilers: It's near the end of Season 4, but before season finale, so, there are few spoilers. I think.
Warnings: nothing?
Disclaimer: I do not own blah blah blah
Author's Note: Again, thanks to trappercreekd for Betaing
2.
“So, what did he tell you?” Nate asked Patrick Bonnano when the detective stopped talking with his officers, who were securing three injured Chileans. Nate was leaning on the wall with two cups of coffee, waiting. Bonnano took the coffee and settled himself in a plastic chair with a tired sigh and Nate joined him.
Nate wasn’t in a hurry. Eliot had been taken in the operation room, and things were in motion, leaving him with nothing to do except worry himself to death. And that was a slow process, and also, one he was used to. He ignored smells and sounds of the large, open atrium full of busy hospital staff and wandering patients. Mingled among them was the rest of a team; Sophie reading a magazine in front of the three rooms where the Chileans were being examined, Hardison in the van parked one block away, trying to find information, and Parker was... somewhere. It was better not to think about her whereabouts right now.
“I was already on the road because he called me,” Bonnano said.
“And told you to say nothing to us?”
“You already know, so I don’t have to choose whose side I should take. He also said it’s a simultaneous attack and you all are in danger. Is it true?”
“Pretty much. He sent us out of town.”
“But you’ll stay?”
“Yep.”
Bonnano took a sip of coffee, and Nate let him think. No reason to hurry, he reminded himself. So why he was so… He stopped himself and stretched his legs. Bonnano did the same. Long day for both of them, obviously.
“When he called you,” Nate continued, “he wasn’t sure he'd be alive when you came, so he filled you with the information about the attack, those guys, and the setup for the rest of us. Right?”
“Right. Nothing much, though, just basic stuff. There is one thing that I have to think over before I tell you, so give me some time. It’s not about you, it’s my side of the job.”
“I understand. What did he tell you when you arrived?”
“He wasn’t able to… he couldn’t say much. He asked me if I could keep him alive for three days.” Bonnano glanced at him and Nate just nodded neutrally. “He is expecting more attacks. The Chileans will not give up just because you’re out of sight, and one attack went wrong, you know that?”
“I’m counting on that,” Nate said softly.
“I didn’t hear that.” Bonnano murmured.
“Of course you didn’t. I’m not even here.”
“Great. So, why three days and not two or four?”
“First day, operation. Second day, probable drug induced coma. Third day, waking up and recovering enough to walk out of here at the end of the day.”
“That’s ridiculous! He was barely alive when we got there, medics said there was only minutes left. He’ll not be able to walk for two weeks, if he is lucky to live through…” Bonnano stopped. “Sorry.”
“So, three days, as he said.” Nate just repeated.
“Ok, three days. Yes, I can keep him alive for three days, I’ve already made some arrangements. Three of my retired friends are coming, they’ll watch over him. Don’t forget that he’s in the middle of an investigation, though I made some moves to reduce damage. Officially, he is innocent bystander caught in the crossfire of a gang shooting. No questions will be asked, I filed the papers already. That leaves only one problem. You and the rest of the avengers. Why don’t you just leave like he told you?”
“Leave?” Nate blinked.
“Ok, after you find out how the operation went. The Chileans already know he is here. You are just giving them nice opportunity to kill you all without searching. They’ll know you are near.”
“We are not so easy to find, Patrick. Especially when we are on the job.”
“That means you’ll tell him you’re here when he wakes up?”
“For God's sake, no! He mustn’t now. You don’t understand…” Nate took a deep breath and then continued. “First, he chose not to tell us he’s wounded because he knew we would stay close. He wanted us safe, and safe we shall be… for him. That way he won’t worry about us. Second, and more important, if he finds out we’re here, those three days will no longer be an option. He is a hitt…” Nate stopped and remembered to whom was he talking. “His job is security and protection, and he takes it very personally. I want him calm and steady, not in a hurry to go back to work. And by back to work, I mean go and solve this little problem before the rest of us go anywhere near those guys. Gangs, cartels and killers with guns are not our usual… targets.”
“But they are his line of work.” Bonnano's words were not a question, so Nate didn’t reply, just glanced at his cup.
“Those three days are bullshit, and you know that.” The Detective continued.
“Ahem… yes, of course, you’re right.” Nate smiled, hoping that the detective didn't have the same image of Boston burning that flashed before his eyes when he thought of the fourth day.
The countdown clock was already ticking in his mind.
.
.
.
Nate didn’t know what Bonnano would tell him about Eliot, so he had removed his comm before they talked, which meant that he had to repeat the whole conversation to the team when he sat himself in the corridor with a good view of the main entrance. He held his phone as if he was talking to someone. It wasn’t the time to raise suspicion, even when every other man had a hands-free phone.
“And what is that thing that Bonnano has to think over before he tells us?” Sophie asked the most important thing, of course. “Any guesses?”
“Not at the time. Hardison, you have something useful yet?”
“I always have something useful, ” the Hacker corrected him. “It will be ready when you return to van.”
“Ok. Parker. Where are you?”
“Oh… around.” The thief’s voice was muffled. “Not far.”
“Hardison?”
“I got her; she is… with you?”
“Precisely, 4 feet under. Why? I’m doing my research. This place is amazing.”
“I have the blueprints, you don’t have to go through every… mwah, just go and have fun,” Hardison sighed, sounding anxious. “Nate, what’s the plan?”
“What plan?”
“You don’t have any idea about… solving this shit?”
“Hardison, we're in the Phase One - we sit tight, be absolutely invisible, and wait for Eliot to come out of surgery, and then to wake up, keeping him safe and watching out for other murder attempts. Phase Two comes after that - taking care of this shit. Phase Two is something we’ll discuss later. Key words are subtle. And waiting.”
“Subtle plan?” Hardison snorted. “Baldric, you wouldn't recognize a subtle plan if it painted itself purple and danced naked on a harpsicord singing 'subtle plans are here again'."
“It's a quotation, right? Better for you it's a-“
“You, think, Baldric?"
“You're even weirder than usual." Nate paused when his words reminded them all why Hardison might be weirder, but Sophie took over before he could continue.
“When can we see him?” she asked. “When he comes out of surgery, he’ll be highly sedated, and he won’t know we are there, if that is what bothers you.”
“No, no visiting. We must avoid all connections, we don’t know who may be watching his room, and how. It’s no use if we act like patients whole day, and someone sees us visiting him. Bonnano will keep us informed.”
The silence on the comms was a clear answer.
“No one,” Nate said clearly. “No one is going into Eliot’s room. Not through the door or any other entrance. Parker?”
“No one.” she said absently.
“No one including you, Parker.”
“No one including me,” she repeated and went silent. “Wait, what?” she asked, suddenly realizing. “Why?”
Nate just sighed.
.
.
.
“People, we are in deep shit. This place is a maze. No chance four of us can cover all the entrances in all the buildings. They can enter the main campus in several random spots, and because almost all of the buildings are connected, just walk their way everywhere.” Hardison’s voice sounded defeated. “We have to wait 'til he gets transported from ED to Surgical ICU, and then we'll be able to set up a decent watch. Now, before he gets moved, it’s useless. Just sayin’, man, just sayin’.”
“Ok, Hardison.”
Sophie smiled when Nate said same words, in same resigned voice, for who knows how many times over the last three hours. Parker was nowhere to be seen, and she spoke just a few times, mainly asking Hardison some details about buildings. Hardison, on the other hand, was doing monologues every few minutes. Everyone coped with fear and pressure in their own way, and Sophie knew better than to interfere in that process this early.
Nate was occupied with following the three Chileans that had been placed in their rooms, and Hardison marked their positions on his map. One had a broken arm, the second suffered a concussion and fractured jaw, and the third was still unconscious with broken clavicle and several broken ribs.
Sophie was sitting near main entrance (by the way, cheerful orange was so not appropriate for a hospital), and trying to remember countless faces that were entering. As the afternoon was slipping into evening, she started walking around. Later hours meant less people, and sooner or later someone would start asking questions about her endless waiting.
And it really had been endless.
“Listen to this: 'For more than 70 years, patients from around the world have come to our division for surgical care. We are also a major referral center for complex thoracic conditions and previously unsuccessful surgical treatments.' Sounds good. Do you want me to do a search on the doctors, and see is there anything we can use?”
“No, Hardison, that won’t be necessary. Get some rest.”
“Rest!? Are you fucking kidding me? I see when my work is not appreciated, you know I can see that!” Hardison sounded really angry, Sophie could feel that in his voice; and Nate was, on the contrary, as calm as she rarely could hear him.
“I know what’s going on; you think my information is useless. And you know what? I don’t care! But I will not bother you with that any more, I’m going offline. If you want to talk or ask for some information, use the phone!”
Static in her comm showed her that he really disconnected himself from their intercoms.
“Hardison, don’t be stup-”
“Let him be, Nate. He’ll calm down. Where are you, by the way?”
“In corridors around operation rooms. Bonnano is here, I think they called him, so we might get some news soon.”
Now she understood why he had sounded so calm and almost like he was boring.
Her own fear, buried deep with a sheer power of will, now started to dig its way out. In the first hour of waiting, she managed to suppress it with rage. Need to strangle that damn idiot was good and cleansing, but very soon it started fighting with need to hug him and tell him that everything’s going to be okay. Suddenly, there were so many things that she had never told him, and she should, and last hour was intense torture full of unspoken monologues.
Those three hours felt like an eternity, but now she hesitated, just around the corner, trying to retrieve her calm before she joined Nate and Bonnano.
She wondered why Parker was so silent, but then, except Hardison, they all were quiet, lost in their own silences.
She entered a corridor, and first thing she met was Bonnano’s smile.
.
.
.
Nate was standing near Bonnano, relaxed, but he held his cup of coffee with both hands. Sophie remembered to smell it later. Bonnano’s voice was echoing in her earbud as she approached them.
“No, they can’t say anything certain right now, but they seemed pleased with results. He’s already in SICU, room 304, third floor. Frank will watch after him till dawn, then Eric comes.”
“Eric with C?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Never mind. Did they tell you any long term prognosis?”
“Nope, but they usually do it after the second day, when patient is conscious and they can do tests. And, about those three days… he’s on the chest tube. There’s no going out of here till they remove it, unless he drags all equipment with him.”
“It depends on how heavy that equipment is.” Nate smiled shortly.
“And, more importantly,” Sophie said. “If he removes it, will it cause any damage?”
“He has a hole in his chest, and that thing is stuck between his ribs, draining air and fluids so he can breathe. No, he isn’t going anywhere, that’s for sure. One thing less to worry about.”
“When do they expect him to wake up?” Nate asked.
“Some time tomorrow. I told them to call me at any time, because he’s under his, ehm, job name, and no next of kin is listed. Daniel Crane, is that it?”
“Yep, he is Crane. It won’t slow down Chileans, you know that?”
“I know. But Frank and Eric might.”
“You told them about us hanging around?”
“Just as much as they needed to know. Worried friends, incognito, helping with watching after him. Sophie, you and the little thief should do the talking with them, I described you. Nate, you and Hardison stay away; I thought it would be better not to confuse them with remembering too many different males. If you have to, tell them that Patrick gave you his golf ball, they’ll know who you are. Also, I know one nurse in that Unit, Betsy Roberts; I told her to do anything Eliot asks, however strange it sounds.”
“Including removing a chest tube?” Nate smiled.
“She’s professional. She’ll eat him for breakfast if he would be so stupid to try something like that.”
“I saw some real dragons that were turned into butterflies just by his smile,” Sophie murmured.
“He won’t be smiling any time soon, be sure. So, people, I’ll leave you now, and try to get home for very late supper. See you tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Patrick.” Sophie’s smile was warm. She tried to imagine how this might end without his timely help, and she almost shivered.
“It was the least I could do.” Bonnano nodded goodbye. “Wait…I’ve almost forgot,” he turned around. “These are Eliot’s throwing knife shoulder holsters. I cleaned them. You should take it.”
As Sophie watched him, Nate stiffened, his face turning a slack, dead white. He was staring in Bonnano’s extended hand that held holsters in plain plastic bag. She took quick step closer, knowing that Nate didn’t see Bonnano anymore, but some random nurse, or doctor, who was giving him bag full of toys and small clothes. She couldn’t blame Bonnano for this; the detective knew nothing about Nate’s dead son.
“You think he won’t need his knives?” she asked stepping between them and taking a bag. “They would have come handy, if someone tries…”
“No, Sophie. This is a hospital, after all, and nurses will be curious.” Bonnano explained, glancing towards Nate, who was still silent.
“You’re right. We don’t want them snooping around, do we?” she smiled. “Thank you again, Detective.”
“Call me if anything new happens.” Bonnano nodded and left.
With what appeared to be as much as physical effort as an effort of will, Nate averted his gaze from the small package.
Sophie kept her face neutral. “I think it’s the perfect moment to get us some more coffee. It’ll be a long night, with all that patrolling that’s ahead of us. We’ll have to arrange few sleeping hours for everyone, if we want to function tomorrow… and the day after.” she said, working a soothing note into her slightly trembling voice. “Thank God I have sneakers, my feet would just…”
“I know it’s not the same, Soph.” Nate’s voice was quiet. Tired. “It can’t be the same. And just in case you wondered, no, I was not taking it as omen of any kind. It was just one lousy moment, that’s all.”
“I've no idea what’re ya talkin’ about,” she said in her best Viola voice, and Nate had to smile.
“Coffee?” she tried again when he didn’t move, still looking at the bag in her hand. It will be stupid to hide it behind her back, she thought desperately.
“No. Give me the bag.”
“Why?” she reluctantly gave him the bag, and fell silent when he pulled out the set of knives on two connected leather stripes. The left holster that held two knives was still wet, the leather darker than the rest, and her legs went rubbery when she realized what Bonnano meant by cleaning them.
Nate’s face looked clouded as he examined the knives, and she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. It was uncomfortable to see him holding something that Eliot wore, and had never let them to touch. It felt…wrong. So wrong, so ominous.
Her stirring of unease grew stronger when he took off his jacket, after checking to make sure they were alone in the hall at the moment.
“No, Nate, you can’t-”, she bit her lip and didn’t continue when she saw something very dark and deadly serious in his eyes.
Static in their comms stirred both of them, Hardison put them online again.
“Nate, Sophie!” The tension in Hardison's voice was very clear. “We’ve got a situation here.”
“Listening.”
“Parker’s gone.”
“What do you me-”
“I mean gone. Off comms. I don’t see her, she’s not answering, and I don’t know where she is.”
Without a word, Nate fastened holsters over his shoulders and put his jacket back on.
Outside, night began to crawl its way in.
Characters: Nate Ford, Eliot Spencer, Alec Hardison, Parker, Sophie Deveraux, Patrick Bonnano
Fandom: Leverage
Summary: I have no idea where I am
Spoilers: It's near the end of Season 4, but before season finale, so, there are few spoilers. I think.
Warnings: nothing?
Disclaimer: I do not own blah blah blah
Author's Note: Again, thanks to trappercreekd for Betaing
2.
“So, what did he tell you?” Nate asked Patrick Bonnano when the detective stopped talking with his officers, who were securing three injured Chileans. Nate was leaning on the wall with two cups of coffee, waiting. Bonnano took the coffee and settled himself in a plastic chair with a tired sigh and Nate joined him.
Nate wasn’t in a hurry. Eliot had been taken in the operation room, and things were in motion, leaving him with nothing to do except worry himself to death. And that was a slow process, and also, one he was used to. He ignored smells and sounds of the large, open atrium full of busy hospital staff and wandering patients. Mingled among them was the rest of a team; Sophie reading a magazine in front of the three rooms where the Chileans were being examined, Hardison in the van parked one block away, trying to find information, and Parker was... somewhere. It was better not to think about her whereabouts right now.
“I was already on the road because he called me,” Bonnano said.
“And told you to say nothing to us?”
“You already know, so I don’t have to choose whose side I should take. He also said it’s a simultaneous attack and you all are in danger. Is it true?”
“Pretty much. He sent us out of town.”
“But you’ll stay?”
“Yep.”
Bonnano took a sip of coffee, and Nate let him think. No reason to hurry, he reminded himself. So why he was so… He stopped himself and stretched his legs. Bonnano did the same. Long day for both of them, obviously.
“When he called you,” Nate continued, “he wasn’t sure he'd be alive when you came, so he filled you with the information about the attack, those guys, and the setup for the rest of us. Right?”
“Right. Nothing much, though, just basic stuff. There is one thing that I have to think over before I tell you, so give me some time. It’s not about you, it’s my side of the job.”
“I understand. What did he tell you when you arrived?”
“He wasn’t able to… he couldn’t say much. He asked me if I could keep him alive for three days.” Bonnano glanced at him and Nate just nodded neutrally. “He is expecting more attacks. The Chileans will not give up just because you’re out of sight, and one attack went wrong, you know that?”
“I’m counting on that,” Nate said softly.
“I didn’t hear that.” Bonnano murmured.
“Of course you didn’t. I’m not even here.”
“Great. So, why three days and not two or four?”
“First day, operation. Second day, probable drug induced coma. Third day, waking up and recovering enough to walk out of here at the end of the day.”
“That’s ridiculous! He was barely alive when we got there, medics said there was only minutes left. He’ll not be able to walk for two weeks, if he is lucky to live through…” Bonnano stopped. “Sorry.”
“So, three days, as he said.” Nate just repeated.
“Ok, three days. Yes, I can keep him alive for three days, I’ve already made some arrangements. Three of my retired friends are coming, they’ll watch over him. Don’t forget that he’s in the middle of an investigation, though I made some moves to reduce damage. Officially, he is innocent bystander caught in the crossfire of a gang shooting. No questions will be asked, I filed the papers already. That leaves only one problem. You and the rest of the avengers. Why don’t you just leave like he told you?”
“Leave?” Nate blinked.
“Ok, after you find out how the operation went. The Chileans already know he is here. You are just giving them nice opportunity to kill you all without searching. They’ll know you are near.”
“We are not so easy to find, Patrick. Especially when we are on the job.”
“That means you’ll tell him you’re here when he wakes up?”
“For God's sake, no! He mustn’t now. You don’t understand…” Nate took a deep breath and then continued. “First, he chose not to tell us he’s wounded because he knew we would stay close. He wanted us safe, and safe we shall be… for him. That way he won’t worry about us. Second, and more important, if he finds out we’re here, those three days will no longer be an option. He is a hitt…” Nate stopped and remembered to whom was he talking. “His job is security and protection, and he takes it very personally. I want him calm and steady, not in a hurry to go back to work. And by back to work, I mean go and solve this little problem before the rest of us go anywhere near those guys. Gangs, cartels and killers with guns are not our usual… targets.”
“But they are his line of work.” Bonnano's words were not a question, so Nate didn’t reply, just glanced at his cup.
“Those three days are bullshit, and you know that.” The Detective continued.
“Ahem… yes, of course, you’re right.” Nate smiled, hoping that the detective didn't have the same image of Boston burning that flashed before his eyes when he thought of the fourth day.
The countdown clock was already ticking in his mind.
.
.
.
Nate didn’t know what Bonnano would tell him about Eliot, so he had removed his comm before they talked, which meant that he had to repeat the whole conversation to the team when he sat himself in the corridor with a good view of the main entrance. He held his phone as if he was talking to someone. It wasn’t the time to raise suspicion, even when every other man had a hands-free phone.
“And what is that thing that Bonnano has to think over before he tells us?” Sophie asked the most important thing, of course. “Any guesses?”
“Not at the time. Hardison, you have something useful yet?”
“I always have something useful, ” the Hacker corrected him. “It will be ready when you return to van.”
“Ok. Parker. Where are you?”
“Oh… around.” The thief’s voice was muffled. “Not far.”
“Hardison?”
“I got her; she is… with you?”
“Precisely, 4 feet under. Why? I’m doing my research. This place is amazing.”
“I have the blueprints, you don’t have to go through every… mwah, just go and have fun,” Hardison sighed, sounding anxious. “Nate, what’s the plan?”
“What plan?”
“You don’t have any idea about… solving this shit?”
“Hardison, we're in the Phase One - we sit tight, be absolutely invisible, and wait for Eliot to come out of surgery, and then to wake up, keeping him safe and watching out for other murder attempts. Phase Two comes after that - taking care of this shit. Phase Two is something we’ll discuss later. Key words are subtle. And waiting.”
“Subtle plan?” Hardison snorted. “Baldric, you wouldn't recognize a subtle plan if it painted itself purple and danced naked on a harpsicord singing 'subtle plans are here again'."
“It's a quotation, right? Better for you it's a-“
“You, think, Baldric?"
“You're even weirder than usual." Nate paused when his words reminded them all why Hardison might be weirder, but Sophie took over before he could continue.
“When can we see him?” she asked. “When he comes out of surgery, he’ll be highly sedated, and he won’t know we are there, if that is what bothers you.”
“No, no visiting. We must avoid all connections, we don’t know who may be watching his room, and how. It’s no use if we act like patients whole day, and someone sees us visiting him. Bonnano will keep us informed.”
The silence on the comms was a clear answer.
“No one,” Nate said clearly. “No one is going into Eliot’s room. Not through the door or any other entrance. Parker?”
“No one.” she said absently.
“No one including you, Parker.”
“No one including me,” she repeated and went silent. “Wait, what?” she asked, suddenly realizing. “Why?”
Nate just sighed.
.
.
.
“People, we are in deep shit. This place is a maze. No chance four of us can cover all the entrances in all the buildings. They can enter the main campus in several random spots, and because almost all of the buildings are connected, just walk their way everywhere.” Hardison’s voice sounded defeated. “We have to wait 'til he gets transported from ED to Surgical ICU, and then we'll be able to set up a decent watch. Now, before he gets moved, it’s useless. Just sayin’, man, just sayin’.”
“Ok, Hardison.”
Sophie smiled when Nate said same words, in same resigned voice, for who knows how many times over the last three hours. Parker was nowhere to be seen, and she spoke just a few times, mainly asking Hardison some details about buildings. Hardison, on the other hand, was doing monologues every few minutes. Everyone coped with fear and pressure in their own way, and Sophie knew better than to interfere in that process this early.
Nate was occupied with following the three Chileans that had been placed in their rooms, and Hardison marked their positions on his map. One had a broken arm, the second suffered a concussion and fractured jaw, and the third was still unconscious with broken clavicle and several broken ribs.
Sophie was sitting near main entrance (by the way, cheerful orange was so not appropriate for a hospital), and trying to remember countless faces that were entering. As the afternoon was slipping into evening, she started walking around. Later hours meant less people, and sooner or later someone would start asking questions about her endless waiting.
And it really had been endless.
“Listen to this: 'For more than 70 years, patients from around the world have come to our division for surgical care. We are also a major referral center for complex thoracic conditions and previously unsuccessful surgical treatments.' Sounds good. Do you want me to do a search on the doctors, and see is there anything we can use?”
“No, Hardison, that won’t be necessary. Get some rest.”
“Rest!? Are you fucking kidding me? I see when my work is not appreciated, you know I can see that!” Hardison sounded really angry, Sophie could feel that in his voice; and Nate was, on the contrary, as calm as she rarely could hear him.
“I know what’s going on; you think my information is useless. And you know what? I don’t care! But I will not bother you with that any more, I’m going offline. If you want to talk or ask for some information, use the phone!”
Static in her comm showed her that he really disconnected himself from their intercoms.
“Hardison, don’t be stup-”
“Let him be, Nate. He’ll calm down. Where are you, by the way?”
“In corridors around operation rooms. Bonnano is here, I think they called him, so we might get some news soon.”
Now she understood why he had sounded so calm and almost like he was boring.
Her own fear, buried deep with a sheer power of will, now started to dig its way out. In the first hour of waiting, she managed to suppress it with rage. Need to strangle that damn idiot was good and cleansing, but very soon it started fighting with need to hug him and tell him that everything’s going to be okay. Suddenly, there were so many things that she had never told him, and she should, and last hour was intense torture full of unspoken monologues.
Those three hours felt like an eternity, but now she hesitated, just around the corner, trying to retrieve her calm before she joined Nate and Bonnano.
She wondered why Parker was so silent, but then, except Hardison, they all were quiet, lost in their own silences.
She entered a corridor, and first thing she met was Bonnano’s smile.
.
.
.
Nate was standing near Bonnano, relaxed, but he held his cup of coffee with both hands. Sophie remembered to smell it later. Bonnano’s voice was echoing in her earbud as she approached them.
“No, they can’t say anything certain right now, but they seemed pleased with results. He’s already in SICU, room 304, third floor. Frank will watch after him till dawn, then Eric comes.”
“Eric with C?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Never mind. Did they tell you any long term prognosis?”
“Nope, but they usually do it after the second day, when patient is conscious and they can do tests. And, about those three days… he’s on the chest tube. There’s no going out of here till they remove it, unless he drags all equipment with him.”
“It depends on how heavy that equipment is.” Nate smiled shortly.
“And, more importantly,” Sophie said. “If he removes it, will it cause any damage?”
“He has a hole in his chest, and that thing is stuck between his ribs, draining air and fluids so he can breathe. No, he isn’t going anywhere, that’s for sure. One thing less to worry about.”
“When do they expect him to wake up?” Nate asked.
“Some time tomorrow. I told them to call me at any time, because he’s under his, ehm, job name, and no next of kin is listed. Daniel Crane, is that it?”
“Yep, he is Crane. It won’t slow down Chileans, you know that?”
“I know. But Frank and Eric might.”
“You told them about us hanging around?”
“Just as much as they needed to know. Worried friends, incognito, helping with watching after him. Sophie, you and the little thief should do the talking with them, I described you. Nate, you and Hardison stay away; I thought it would be better not to confuse them with remembering too many different males. If you have to, tell them that Patrick gave you his golf ball, they’ll know who you are. Also, I know one nurse in that Unit, Betsy Roberts; I told her to do anything Eliot asks, however strange it sounds.”
“Including removing a chest tube?” Nate smiled.
“She’s professional. She’ll eat him for breakfast if he would be so stupid to try something like that.”
“I saw some real dragons that were turned into butterflies just by his smile,” Sophie murmured.
“He won’t be smiling any time soon, be sure. So, people, I’ll leave you now, and try to get home for very late supper. See you tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Patrick.” Sophie’s smile was warm. She tried to imagine how this might end without his timely help, and she almost shivered.
“It was the least I could do.” Bonnano nodded goodbye. “Wait…I’ve almost forgot,” he turned around. “These are Eliot’s throwing knife shoulder holsters. I cleaned them. You should take it.”
As Sophie watched him, Nate stiffened, his face turning a slack, dead white. He was staring in Bonnano’s extended hand that held holsters in plain plastic bag. She took quick step closer, knowing that Nate didn’t see Bonnano anymore, but some random nurse, or doctor, who was giving him bag full of toys and small clothes. She couldn’t blame Bonnano for this; the detective knew nothing about Nate’s dead son.
“You think he won’t need his knives?” she asked stepping between them and taking a bag. “They would have come handy, if someone tries…”
“No, Sophie. This is a hospital, after all, and nurses will be curious.” Bonnano explained, glancing towards Nate, who was still silent.
“You’re right. We don’t want them snooping around, do we?” she smiled. “Thank you again, Detective.”
“Call me if anything new happens.” Bonnano nodded and left.
With what appeared to be as much as physical effort as an effort of will, Nate averted his gaze from the small package.
Sophie kept her face neutral. “I think it’s the perfect moment to get us some more coffee. It’ll be a long night, with all that patrolling that’s ahead of us. We’ll have to arrange few sleeping hours for everyone, if we want to function tomorrow… and the day after.” she said, working a soothing note into her slightly trembling voice. “Thank God I have sneakers, my feet would just…”
“I know it’s not the same, Soph.” Nate’s voice was quiet. Tired. “It can’t be the same. And just in case you wondered, no, I was not taking it as omen of any kind. It was just one lousy moment, that’s all.”
“I've no idea what’re ya talkin’ about,” she said in her best Viola voice, and Nate had to smile.
“Coffee?” she tried again when he didn’t move, still looking at the bag in her hand. It will be stupid to hide it behind her back, she thought desperately.
“No. Give me the bag.”
“Why?” she reluctantly gave him the bag, and fell silent when he pulled out the set of knives on two connected leather stripes. The left holster that held two knives was still wet, the leather darker than the rest, and her legs went rubbery when she realized what Bonnano meant by cleaning them.
Nate’s face looked clouded as he examined the knives, and she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. It was uncomfortable to see him holding something that Eliot wore, and had never let them to touch. It felt…wrong. So wrong, so ominous.
Her stirring of unease grew stronger when he took off his jacket, after checking to make sure they were alone in the hall at the moment.
“No, Nate, you can’t-”, she bit her lip and didn’t continue when she saw something very dark and deadly serious in his eyes.
Static in their comms stirred both of them, Hardison put them online again.
“Nate, Sophie!” The tension in Hardison's voice was very clear. “We’ve got a situation here.”
“Listening.”
“Parker’s gone.”
“What do you me-”
“I mean gone. Off comms. I don’t see her, she’s not answering, and I don’t know where she is.”
Without a word, Nate fastened holsters over his shoulders and put his jacket back on.
Outside, night began to crawl its way in.