Matthew Dunn - Spycatcher

Laith placed two fingers against Roger’s throat artery and stayed still for a while. He nodded. “He’s not in shock. This freezing weather has probably helped keep him alive and stable. The cold will have slowed the body right down.” He looked at Will. “But it will also ultimately kill him. He’ll be dead in less than two hours unless we can get him some medical care.”

A hand gripped Laith’s fingers. The hand belonged to Roger, who spoke with a strained but firm voice. “I’ll die when I want to, not when you say I will.” He coughed and smiled a little. “Remember, I’m a Navy SEAL. Among other things, we’re used to cold and pain.” He looked serious. “Leave me here. You go into town and find him. Then and only then come back for me.”

Will shook his head. “We’ll take you with us and find medical help. We can leave you there.”

“I have gunshot wounds,” Roger reminded him. “They’ll call the police to have you arrested. You’ll have to run, and then you’ll have no chance of finding Megiddo.”

Will looked at Laith’s expression of uncertainty. Will’s own thoughts were uncertain, too.

Roger released his grip on Laith, grabbed Will’s jacket, and pulled Will’s face close to his own. “Leave me here. The priority is getting Megiddo.”

Will shook his head once more. “For all your strength, you will die, and I can’t let that happen.” Then an idea came to him. “Whatever happens, your role in this mission is now over. If we get you medical help, you’ll be properly cared for, although the police will be notified and you’ll be held in custody while they work out what the hell happened to you. But that doesn’t matter, because in due course you’ll be sprung from custody by Patrick.” He looked at Laith. “How many cops do you think they have in Saranac Lake?”

Laith shrugged. “I can’t be sure, but I’d say three or four at most, and they probably only have two on duty at any one time, outside of emergencies.”

Will nodded. “I’m going to call the Saranac Lake Police Department. I’m going to say that I saw a vehicle on its side on this road about a mile outside the village. Then I’ll hang up.” He looked at Roger. “That should draw most if not all of Saranac’s tiny police contingent out of the village. We’ll use that time to get you into the village, find medical help, leave you there, and go for Megiddo.” He glanced at Laith. “We should have twenty or thirty minutes to scour the town before the cops return to hear about the man with gunshot wounds who’s been dumped at the hospital.” He looked back at Roger. “Say nothing to the doctors or the cops.” He smiled. “It shouldn’t be hard to do, but act like you’re dying.”

Roger nodded slowly, held him close for a while before saying quietly, “It’s been a pleasure working with you, Will.”

Will squeezed his hand. “I’m sure this won’t be the last time we work together. I certainly hope not.”

He patted Roger’s pockets, found the man’s cell phone, and smiled as he said, “It doesn’t matter now if they trace a call from this phone.” He opened the phone, called 911, said that he wished to be redirected to the Saranac Lake Police Department, spoke for a few seconds before saying that he had very bad phone reception and then hung up midsentence. He closed the phone, pulled out the SIM card, snapped it into pieces, and threw the pieces and the handset into the forest. Then he walked closer to the tree line adjacent to the village and waited. In two minutes he heard a police siren. In three minutes he saw a police four-wheel-drive cruise steadily past him along the road where they had crashed.

He walked quickly to Laith and said, “I’ll carry him. You do the talking.” He looked down at Roger, nodded at the man, and said, “One last journey to make, my friend.”

Laith and Will secreted their handguns. Will lifted Roger onto his shoulder. The three men left the darkness of the forest and entered the village of Saranac Lake.

There weren’t many people on the streets, but those who were brave enough to be out in the driving snowfall and the dark looked at the odd trio as they moved carefully through the village. Will examined them all and didn’t care that they were staring at Laith, at him, and at the man he was carrying, but he wondered how much they would care if they knew that the men they were staring at were armed and extremely dangerous. He walked with Laith along a road called Olive Street. It took them into what looked like the center of the village, and it was clear to him that the whole place was a popular tourist destination, because the few people they did see were dressed in winter sports attire. Will knew that Laith would be ignoring them, that he would be looking for someone who looked like a local resident.

Will checked his watch and cursed. Time was running out.

Laith stopped, waved a hand by his waist to signal Will to wait, then walked quickly ahead to a man and woman on the other side of the street. He spoke to the couple for a few seconds, pointed in the direction of Will and the man he was carrying, shook his head, pointed in another direction, and nodded at the couple before leaving them. Will expected Laith to come straight over to him, but instead he stood in the street and looked up and down its length. A car approached him, and Laith walked out into the middle of the street, waving his hands. The car stopped, Laith spoke to the driver, then stepped back as the car sped away. He then repeated the action with another oncoming car containing a solitary male driver. Laith pointed at Will and Roger, gave the driver something from his pocket, and jogged back to Will. “Not good. The nearest hospital is the Adirondack Medical Center, two kilometers away on Route Eighty-Six to the north. But for fifty dollars I managed to persuade the man in the car to take us there. I told him there’s been a hunting accident.”

Will moved quickly to the car. Laith opened the rear door and helped him get Roger into the passenger seat. Will sat next to Roger and held the injured man against him with both arms. Laith jumped into the front passenger seat and began telling the driver all about the hunting accident as he drove along. The driver looked like a clerk or a shopkeeper, and most of what Laith said to him seemed repetitive and unnecessary, but Will knew that Laith was simply minimizing the opportunity for the driver to speak to Will-or to speak at all.

Within a few minutes, they pulled up at the medical center. Laith turned to the driver. “You heading back into the village?”

The driver responded, “For sure.”

Laith nodded. “I’ll give you another fifty dollars if you wait for us and take us back there after we check our friend into this place.”

The driver seemed to hesitate. “How long would I have to wait?”

Laith smiled. “Hardly any time at all.”

The man looked unsure but nodded.

Laith jumped out of the car and helped Will get Roger out. Instead of putting him onto his shoulder, Will lifted Roger into his arms. While Laith stayed by the car, Will walked alone, carrying his precious burden into the small reception area. A solitary woman was sitting behind a counter, but otherwise the area was empty. The woman looked at them and instantly slammed a hand down onto a buzzer. She had clearly called for immediate medical assistance. Will set Roger down on the floor, looked at him, and fought back an overwhelming urge to stay. Roger shook his head and gave the tiniest of smiles. Will nodded at him, smiled, turned, and jogged out of the hospital, ignoring the calls of the woman behind them. Laith slapped the roof of the car just as Will approached the vehicle. Both men got back in, and Laith told the driver they’d been instructed by the hospital to report the incident to the local police in the village.