John Mackie - Hazardous Goods

At the room I found my mother sitting by Ted’s side, my brother on a respirator.

“What the hell happened?”

My mother turned, and for a moment, I had a horrible thought that Ted wasn’t going to make it. Her eyes were red from crying.

“I’m not sure. He was watching Clay, and something happened. He had some difficulty breathing, and he fainted.”

“What is the doctor saying?”

“I can answer that.”

I turned to see a tall slim fellow in a white smock. The tag on his lapel read Dr. Aminpoor.

“You are the brother?”

“Yes.”

“I am Dr. Aminpoor. As I said to your mother a few minutes ago, your brother gave us quite a fright. Anaphylaxis, we believe. When we got to him he was in severe respiratory difficulty. Wheezing with swelling around his neck.” The doctor moved to Ted’s side and shifted the respirator mask and tube slightly so that we could see. Ted’s neck was swollen. And an angry red.

“We immediately put him on a respirator for oxygen and injected epinephrine.”

“Adrenaline?”

The doctor nodded. “It seemed to help a bit, but we had to repeat the dosage. Whatever he is reacting to, it is quite severe.” He pointed to two IV bags hanging at Ted’s side. “We’ve put him on chlorphenamine and hydrocortisone, which should reduce the swelling and irritation, allow his breathing to return to normal. For now, though, I’d like to keep him on the oxygen.”

“ Que dit il? ” My mother looked to me for a moment, then to the doctor.

Fortunately he seemed to recognize the need to spell it out for both of us using a more basic vocabulary.

“He should be okay. As far as we can tell, he is suffering from anaphyl… he is having an allergic reaction to something. We’re not sure what. The drugs we are using should counteract the reaction and allow his body to fight back. I’d like to talk to him when he wakes, but I feel we have things under control.”

When the doctor left, I turned to my mother. She was holding Ted’s hand as though he was hanging off a cliff.

“What happened?”

“I went downstairs with Harper for a few minutes. When we got back, the doctors were fussing over Clay, and Ted told me he wasn’t feeling well. Then he passed out.”

“But they don’t know why?”

“Ted said those people did it. The Russians.”

“The Russians? Kuzmenko? The guy who robbed us?”

“And his boss.”

What the hell? I stared at Ted, with intravenous lines running into both arms and a breathing mask pumping air into his lungs. The marks and swelling around his neck were reduced but still looked painful. They must have used magic . Ted stepped in to stop them, and now he was having a reaction.

“The Russians .”

“Yes. It sounded like they were trying to hurt Clay, and Ted tried to stop them.”

This was about the cube. Legenko must have been pissed about losing it, and decided to take it out on Clay. Having Ted there was just a bonus.

Behind me I heard a gasp, and Harper hurried into the room to sit by my mother’s side. She wrapped an arm around my mother’s shoulders.

“Oh, Huguette. The doctors told me about Ted. I’m so sorry. I was watching Clay to make sure he was OK.”

“Is he?” I felt a throbbing start in my temple.

“Yes. The doctors said he had a spike in his blood pressure. Very sudden. Someone was apparently in the room?”

“The mugger. Again. And his boss.”

“Animals. These men are animals.” My mother was staring at Ted, but her face was wrought with pain and anger.

“Yes they are.” I gave her a kiss, and squeezed Harper’s arm in sympathy. Then I turned and headed out the door. “They’re rabid, and they need to be put down.”

I was pissed off.

Legenko and his henchman had gone after Clay and my brother, intent on hurting them, maybe even killing them. That just doesn’t work for me.

But traffic moves for no man. Like it or not, at this time of day it was going to take a half an hour or more to get from the hospital to Ruscan Industries’ head office. So I used the time as best I could, calling Amy, then e-mailing a file to her. She in turn had a great suggestion, which resulted in another call, and a second e-mail of the same file. I also took a few minutes to stop off at the University, which just happened to be on the way.

By the time I arrived, I had done what I could.

I parked just off St. Clair, grabbed my bat from the space between the two front seats, and marched over to the Ruscan Industries offices. Straight up the front stairs and through the doors into the reception area. At least I was calm enough to slip the bat into my pants, between my right thigh and pant leg. With a wrench of my belt, and the use of a notch I hadn’t used in several years, I was able to secure the weapon in place.

Ms. Plastic Receptionist didn’t have a chance to even flash her picture-perfect teeth at me. I stalked straight over to the stairwell and began to climb. I was already on the mezzanine, heading to the stairwell that lead up to the offices, before one of the security guards took notice of me.

“Hey!”

Despite his eloquent statement, I elected to press on. As I turned into the second stairwell, he sprinted with surprising speed across the atrium floor.

Still, he was a good floor and a half behind me when I stepped out onto the executive floor, again with an unoccupied reception station. This time, however, all heads were turned in my direction. Reception must have called ahead.

“Uh, sir. Do you have an appointment to see one of the executives?”

Joe College again. He strode up, taller and likely stronger than me, but not used to aggression. His eyes were just a bit too wide, and his voice quavered.

“I’m here to see the Legenkos again. Which way?”

His quick glance at the large office along the back wall told me all I needed to know. I slid past him, and marched down the lane between cubicles to the open door at the back. As I moved, I pulled the bat free, holding it tight to my thigh. A bewildered assistant stood, hands clutched to her chest.

“Relax. I’m not here for you.”

As I passed she backed up against the far wall of the cubicle, staring at me as though I was a madman. And in a way she was right, because I had just spotted Niki, standing in the open doorway and awaiting my arrival.

I made a beeline for him, no doubt invading the notional work boundaries of several more Ruscan employees. I was past basic courtesies.

He stood firm as I approached, though I noticed he held a cold compress to the back of his head, and seemed to have collected a few more abrasions above the neck. Wasn’t so confident when I brought the bat up, though. Instead of bashing his skull in, I held it up in front of me, poking him in the chest and pushing hard. There was a chance I would just bounce off him, like clothing off of Paris Hilton. But my stubbornness knows no bounds, and the threat of the bat had taken him by surprise. The Bull stumbled back into the office with an angry laugh, unhurt but even more pissed off at me.

College Boy said something behind me, and I could hear the voice of the security guard as well, but I slammed the door shut behind me, and locked it. Finally, I turned to see what I had gotten myself into.

The first thing I noticed was Niki moving in my direction with a look of nasty intent, his hand slipping into his jacket where he had a pistol holstered under the side of ham he called a left arm. I snarled, but a shout stopped him in his tracks.

“Nikolay!”

He stopped, wavered, then removed his hand from under his jacket and backed up to lean against the wall.