Exit Node : A psychological thriller (Darknet series Book 3), page 14
“Calm down,” she said. “Calm down, Mr. Bradley.”
“No.” He lurched forward, as though to get out of the chair.
Several nurses and orderlies came running, probably alerted by the noise.
Emma dipped into her pocket. Grabbed the syringe. “Calm down,” she shouted over him. “You need to rest.” She leaned over him. Jabbed at his thigh. “You will calm down, sir.”
As Aiden told her, the staff would see what they expected to see.
She looked up at Dilys. “Ketamine,” she said. “I had to give him a dose earlier, too. Help me get him back in the chair, please.” She slipped the syringe back into her pocket. As soon as she saw a sharps disposal bin, she’d dump it.
Before Dilys could assist, Aiden did a convincing spasm and managed to throw the cardboard cup he held at Emma. The top came off perfectly, and her scrubs were drenched with orange juice.
“Gah.” She plucked at the fabric. “Just what I needed. Let’s get him checked in before he has another go at leaving.”
“Our systems have gone down for urgent maintenance,” said the young girl behind the counter. “I can’t check him in yet.”
“Seriously?” Emma managed to sound pissed off. “You’ve got a room for him, haven’t you?”
“I don’t know,” said Dilys. She looked flustered. “I’ve only just come on shift. I haven’t even looked at the schedule yet.”
“Well, you’d better find somewhere. I’ve got a cab waiting outside, and every minute I’m here costs money.”
In another universe, she’d be enjoying this brusque alter-ego of hers. She cocked her head to the side. “Please don’t tell me I have to take him back to Harrington Lake because you can’t find a room for him. That won’t go down well with his director.”
“There’s an examination room down here,” said Dilys. “We can put him there while we wait for the systems to come back up. At least he’s quiet now. I’m really sorry for the inconvenience.”
“With that amount of Ketamine in him, he should be docile until morning.” Emma plucked at her wet scrubs again. “Can you please direct me to a bathroom? I’m sticky with juice.”
“Lydia.” Dilys summoned the girl from behind the counter. “Please show this lady to the staff bathroom.”
Emma followed the girl down a short corridor, to a door marked Female Staff Only. “Thank you,” she said and walked through the door, head held high.
The bathroom was empty. Perfect. She locked herself into a cubicle and leaned with her back against the door.
Her hands shook from the adrenaline, and her knees were trembling. Holy shit. They were in. The orange juice was a genius move, but dear God, she wasn’t going anywhere for a moment.
Breathe. She had to breathe. When she left the bathroom in a couple of minutes, she had to be calm and arrogant again.
First she changed her scrubs for a clean top from her bag, and then she sent her update to Caleb.
Emma: Starting search.
Chapter Twenty
Caleb replied immediately.
Caleb: New intel. Patient rooms are all on grd floor.
If that was true, it meant she didn’t have to go searching upstairs.
Emma: Any idea how many?
Caleb: No more than 12.
There were at least three closed doors in the corridor that led to the bathroom. They might not all be patient rooms, but they were worth checking. She’d used ten minutes. She couldn’t waste any more time.
This was the hard part—wandering around without a real excuse. If anyone stopped her, she had the flimsiest of stories to fall back on. She wanted to find the kitchen or break room. Or she could say she got lost and was looking for Aiden.
She went back to the corridor. It was empty. She turned in the other direction, away from reception. There were only two doors. The first, labelled 1-12, was ajar. She peered through the gap. An empty hospital bed with no sheets. She moved onto the next room, 1-11. This door was closed, but it had a sliding panel at eye height. She slid the panel to the left. A letterbox-sized gap opened. Of course. That was how the staff could check on their patients without entering the room.
She peeked inside. A woman lay in the bed, curled up on her side and snuggled into a pillow. Dim overhead lighting allowed Emma to see the woman’s eyes were closed.
Two rooms down, ten or so to go.
The next two rooms were both empty, and the third one also had the door ajar. Emma peeked inside and saw a nurse attending to the guy lying in bed. He wasn’t Mark.
There were seven more rooms to locate, but not without going through the reception area.
“Please be here,” she whispered. “I don’t want to go home without you.”
There was no sign of Aiden, which meant they’d moved him. The staff were clustered around the reception computer. That was good. Summerton’s service updates must be keeping them occupied and buying her some more searching time.
With all the confidence she could summon, Emma strode across the reception area and headed for the corridor leading in the opposite direction. Her heart pounded so hard her chest hurt, and she felt dizzy, but she carried on walking.
Mark might be right here, in the next room she came to.
Nobody stopped her or even questioned where she was going. For a secure facility, they were really quite lax.
The first room on this side was labelled 1-7. When she slid the panel back, she saw it was different. This was an examination room, with a high bed and a folding screen pushed to one side. Aiden lay on the bed, apparently sleeping.
She stepped inside and closed the door with care. “Aiden,” she whispered.
He grunted and shifted position, as though really asleep. Shit. Did they give him an actual injection?
She tiptoed closer. “Aiden,” she whispered again.
“There are cameras everywhere,” he whispered back. “Check my pulse and breathing like a nurse would. They mustn’t suspect you.”
Emma froze. That’s why security felt so light. She was probably being watched. Okay. She could do this. Check his pulse first. She closed her fingers around his right wrist and then gazed at the clock on the wall, as though timing his pulse. Next, she slipped off her bag, removed the stethoscope, and pretended to use it to listen to his chest.
He whispered again when she leaned over him. “Get a message to Summerton to disable the cameras as part of the network issue. You can text from in here without arising suspicion.”
“Roger that.”
She sat in a guest chair and sent the request to Caleb, then pretended to make a call, to buy herself a few minutes.
Caleb’s reply was swift.
Caleb: Done. You have a max of 5 mins.
There were only six rooms left. She could do this. “Cameras are off for the next five minutes,” she whispered to Aiden, and he opened his eyes.
“Good work,” he whispered back. “Any sign of Mark?”
“Not yet. Caleb messaged to say all the patient rooms are on the ground floor and he thinks there are twelve. I’ve already looked at six, including this one. If Mark’s here, he must be further along this corridor. We have seventy minutes left.”
“You keep watch, while I get changed.” He held out a hand, and Emma dug into her satchel again, for the last set of scrubs, rolled up into a small bundle. “If we need to exit in a hurry, I’ll set off the fire alarm. It worked for Jonathan and Caleb when they needed to get out of Oakley.”
She kept her back to him. “Don’t you need crutches, at least?”
“I can walk without them, as long as I keep it slow. It’s not ideal, but they’d be a bit of a giveaway.”
Dressed in scrubs, with a surgeon’s cap on his head and wearing a pair of wire-framed glasses, he no longer looked like the doped-up patient from earlier. The change was startling.
“Come on,” he said. “The clock is ticking. We only have four minutes before the cameras come back online.”
With Aiden at her side, Emma felt safer. They were in as much danger as before, but not being alone made all the difference.
Room 1-6 held another woman, and then the corridor turned through ninety degrees. There were six closed doors ahead, and an emergency exit at the end. Why six doors? One had to be a closet.
“Three each,” said Aiden. “I’ll take the left.”
The first room she checked was empty. Behind her, she heard Aiden sliding the viewing flap on his room, and she darted to the next.
The lighting was dim inside, and a man lay in the bed, facing away from her. His hair was dark and short. Like Mark’s. She had to go inside.
Her heart was in her mouth, her pulse beating erratically. She eased the door open and went in. The room was warm, and the guy only had a sheet over him. His right leg was in plaster from the knee to the ankle. Unless Mark had broken his leg, this had to be someone else.
She needed to be sure. With her stethoscope in hand, as though about to check his lungs, she walked around the bed.
His face was achingly familiar, even with a greeny-purple bruise down his cheek and a graze across his forehead. Her heart felt as though it would explode with emotion.
He was here. He was alive.
“Mark.” She couldn’t hold back his name. “Oh my God. It’s you.”
His eyes opened, and for the longest moment, he gazed at her in silence.
This was what she longed for. The goal that had kept her going for the past couple of days, while a nightmare unfolded around her life. He was safe.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” His voice was as glacial as his gaze. “Which part of we’re over don’t you understand?”
Wait—what? That wasn’t how this should play out. “I’m here to help you,” she said. “I know you were lying to me.”
Mark rolled his eyes. “You shouldn’t be here playing nurse. The one thing you can do to help is fuck off back to Wellington and stay out of my life. I’m going places, but I can’t do that with a chick in tow.”
No. She clung to the hope that he was still lying. “You asked me to marry you.”
“I was doing my job, babe. You didn’t believe that shit, did you? Hell, I’m a better liar than I thought.” He smirked.
Worry, fear, frustration, and lack of sleep collided together into the mother of all rages. Emma had never felt angrier. When Mark first admitted to engineering a relationship with her, she’d been thrown for a loop. It shook the foundations of her world. He was a first-class liar, and she’d seen him in action many times.
She wasn’t falling for his bullshit again.
“What did you do to your leg?” She folded her arms, to cover how hard she was trembling.
“Car accident.”
He was a very skilful driver—she’d seen that side of him, too. “Not like you,” she taunted. “Were you distracted by something? Or someone?”
Mark narrowed his eyes. “Distracted by another vehicle, shoving mine off the road, but what does that matter? Why are you still here, bugging me? The staff will be here any minute, once they’ve seen you on camera, so you may as well just go now, before they throw you out.” He tugged up the sheet and rolled over with a grunt, presenting his back to her. “Fuck off, Emma. I don’t answer to you.”
“James, don’t treat her like a child and lie to her to keep her safe.”
Emma looked up, to see Aiden had entered the room.
“Emma means nothing to me. She was just a job. Been there, done that.”
“And if that was true,” continued Aiden, “why did you tell me you’d fallen in love and wanted to marry her? Damn it. I was looking forward to the wedding.”
Mark huffed a breath. “This place is bristling with cameras,” he hissed. “Get the fuck out, both of you.”
Emma leaned on the bed with both hands, her mouth close to his ear. “They’re offline for a couple more minutes, and we’re here to get you out. Now shut up and let us help you.”
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Probably Caleb. She checked the screen.
Aiden was also checking his phone.
Caleb: J warns of 4 x SUV entering site. S thinks we’re busted. Get out.
Chapter Twenty-One
“We’ll continue the pleasantries later,” said Aiden. “Our cover is blown. We need to get you to the car waiting outside.”
Mark didn’t move. He scowled at Aiden. “You know there’s no way I can leave the country without being traced, and I am not putting you at further risk.”
“For fuck’s sake. We’ve got transport arranged. Now get your ass moving.” Emma snarled the words at him and watched the surprise flit across his face.
“My girlfriend, the Valkyrie,” he said, with a hint of a genuine smile. “I hope you’re right.”
“Emma, we need the chair for him. Go get it,” snapped Aiden. “I’m setting off the fire alarm in thirty seconds, and that’s when we leave.”
Yes. The chair. She darted out of the room, checked that nobody was around, and then ran to the examining room where she found Aiden. It was still empty, with his crutches leaning against the wall and his wheelchair abandoned.
She grabbed the chair. The wheels didn’t move. What the fuck?
There was a brake.
She found the lever, released it, and then shoved the empty chair across the room. She’d wasted valuable seconds getting it moving. Any second now, and the fire alarm would sound. They were waiting for her. She had to hurry.
“What are you doing?” A man in a white coat stood in the doorway. “Where’s the patient gone?”
Could she push him out of the way? She sought her voice instead. “I helped him to the bathroom, but I don’t want him to walk back.”
“I thought he was knocked out? What dose did you administer?
Jesus. The last thing she wanted was to get in a conversation.
“Clearly, not enough. Excuse me.” She made to go past him and—thank you, God—he stepped aside.
Her phone vibrated again. She couldn’t pause to check it. She headed back up the corridor to Mark’s room, just as the chatty staff member caught up with her.
“Patient bathrooms are the other way. Where did you take him?”
Her phone buzzed again. Come on, Aiden. Make some noise.
A blue strobe flashed overhead. A low wail rose in volume to a piercing woop-woop, punctuated with a robotic voice advising to leave the building by the nearest exit.
“Fuck,” said the guy at her side. “Come to reception for the evacuation protocols.”
“I’ll grab my patient first.”
Finally, he hurried away, running down the corridor away from her. She swung into Mark’s room and hauled the chair to a stop. Mark stood there, propped up by Aiden. It wasn’t just his leg that was injured. His lower right arm was bandaged tightly, and he was much paler than he should be.
He was still with them. That was the most important thing. She’d celebrate it later, when they were in the air and on their way back home.
“In the chair,” said Aiden. “Anything you need to grab?”
“They took everything off me.”
Shit. She didn’t check her phone. Emma tugged it out of her pocket and read the screen.
Caleb: El had to move. Evac on foot and head for rose garden at back of house.
“Eloise had to move,” she said, looking up at Aiden.
“Yeah, I saw that. Just as well we have a chair for the invalid. Grab a banket, too.”
Her phone buzzed again.
Caleb: 4 x SUV at your front. Exit at back. HURRY
“There’s a fire door at the end of this corridor,” Emma said.
“On it.” Aiden propelled the wheelchair out of the room, with Emma following.
He barged through the emergency exit, and they burst out into the quasi-twilight. Floodlights poured from all corners of the building, and reflected blue strobes flashed.
They stood on the edge of a small lawned area. People gathered on the grass, some wearing pyjamas, others in white coats and nursing uniforms. More emerged from other emergency exits.
“We mingle,” said Aiden. “Cover his head and shoulders with the blanket. And do you have any idea where the fucking rose garden is?”
Another blue strobe joined the light show, this one from a vehicle at the front of the building. They were being hunted. They had to get away.
“I could see the rose garden from my room,” said Mark. “Head right.”
Wet grass wasn’t a good surface to push a heavy wheelchair over, and Aiden was struggling.
“Can I push?” Emma asked.
“I need the support, but thanks.”
“What’s the exit strategy?” Mark asked. “What do I need to know?”
“We have an SIA agent in a mocked-up taxi, hopefully waiting by the rose garden. We rendezvous with the rest of the team a mile away, then drive to RAF Brize Norton, where you’re taking a military flight out of the country. We have one hour left to get out of Knutsford, in order to make that flight.”
The chair wheels jammed in the grass, and Aiden swore under his breath. “Emma, get a message to Jonathan, to return to the pub.”
She sent the text to Caleb and put her phone away again.
“Wait,” she said. “We’re too visible here. Everyone else is standing on the other side of the lawn.”
“Why do you think I’m hurrying?”
Emma grabbed one of the chair handles, and together she and Aiden shoved on, working their way across the increasingly muddy lawn. They were close to a path—one not illuminated by the floodlights.
Emma squinted through the darkness. “Is that a car?”
As though the driver heard her, they flashed the headlights. Twice. “It’s Eloise.”
“The fucking chair’s stuck,” snarled Aiden. “Sorry, pal, but you’re walking from here. Take my arm.”
“And lean on me,” said Emma. She slipped her right arm around Mark’s waist, while on his other side, Aiden held him up.
They only had to move twenty metres, but it was slow progress. Too slow. The security team had to know that Mark had gone. IG-6 was prepared to hold a mock-funeral for him. If Emma and Aiden were caught, they wouldn’t just walk away from this.
