Robin Cook - Foreign Body

“Let me check out in the hall,” Jack said. He pushed open the door and stepped half out. Glancing down at the elevator he saw Arun board. Looking the other direction, he could see the guard sitting in his chair. He saw no one else.

Jack opened the door all the way and motioned for the others to move. “The coast is clear,” he said.

No sooner had Neil negotiated the wheelchair over the cooler threshold than several doctors came out of the cafeteria.

“Jesus...” Jack voiced. The doctors acknowledged Jack as they passed, deep in conversation. Jack was afraid to look back but forced himself to do so. When he did, he saw that the doctors were already beyond Maria. Neil shrugged. Apparently, there had been no problem. Jack motioned for Neil and Laurie to pick up the pace to get by the cafeteria entrance to avoid any other confrontation.

The guard watched them approach. Jack arrived slightly before the others. “Hello there, young fellow,” he said. “You having a busy day down here today? We’re going to use this door. My mother is worried about how she looks and doesn’t want to run into any old friends.” Jack kept up the chatter as he tried to keep himself between the guard and Maria as they moved past. The guard made a meager gesture of looking at the others, but that was it. “I’ll see you later,” Jack said, as he backed out of the double doors.

“A piece of cake,” Jack mumbled, as he passed the others to get the van’s rear doors open. The concealed cord holding Maria had been provided with machinations for a quick release, and with a mere pull on one end, her torso came away from the wheelchair. Among the three of them, they got her into the van and the van doors closed.

Arun appeared from around the building.

“Why don’t you drive,” Jack said, flipping the keys to Arun. “You know where you are going.”

The group piled into the vehicle: Arun behind the wheel, Jack in the front, and Laurie and Neil in the second row.

“How about we get the windows down!” Neil said, impressed that the others could be so stoic.

“Let’s not act like we just robbed the bank!” Jack said. “But let’s not dillydally, either. What I mean to say is, let’s get out of here.”

Arun got the van engine going but then stalled the vehicle by not giving it enough gas. Jack rolled his eyes, thinking it was a good thing they hadn’t robbed a bank.

“What’s Jennifer doing today?” Laurie asked Neil. “Did she mind when Jack called you to bring over Maria’s clothes?”

“She was only too happy to have me go,” Neil explained. “I think she’s only now recovering to a degree from her jet lag. She said she thought she might sleep until noon or even longer and that I wasn’t to worry about her. She said if and when she woke up, she thought she’d get some much-needed exercise.”

October 19, 2007

Friday, 11:05 a.m.

New Delhi, India

The oversized key made an oversized sound in the lock when Cal turned it. “We’re never going to be able to sneak up on her.” He laughed back at Durell, who was behind him. He pulled open the door and supported it until he felt Durell could take it from him. “Lock it behind you with the bolt just in case,” he added, as he descended the stairs. At the bottom, he turned and waited for Durell to join him.

“She’s a tigress,” Cal said. “So we have to be careful. She was also stark naked when they brought her, which blew me away.”

“You have my attention,” Durell admitted. “Open the door!”

Cal put the key in, turned it, and pushed open the door. Jennifer was nowhere in sight.

Cal and Durell exchanged glances. “Where is she?” Durell whispered.

“How the hell do I know,” Cal responded. Cal pushed the door fully open until the doorknob hit the wall. “Miss Hernandez!” Cal called out. “This is not going to help.”

The two men listened. There wasn’t a sound.

“Shit,” Cal said. “We don’t need complications.” He stepped into the room. Durell followed.

“Let’s lock this door, too,” Cal said. He got Durell to move so there was room to close the door behind them. He threw the bolt. “She’s got to be in one of the bedrooms or the bathroom,” Cal said. At least he hoped she’d be in one place or the other. What had him particularly confused was seeing both bathrobes on the couch.

“We can see most of the bathroom,” Durell remarked.

“Okay, so one of the bedrooms. Come on!”

Cal walked across the room and approached the doorway. He pushed the door open all the way. The only furniture was the cot, a small night table and an old-fashioned lamp, and a straight-backed chair. There was also a tiny closet, the door of which was ajar. No Jennifer. Turning around, he stepped across the hallway and passed in front of the bathroom in the process. He then checked out the second bedroom. This room was a mirror image of the other except that there was no chair.

Durell, who had come up behind Cal and was looking over his shoulder, noticed the missing chair, and the words had barely come out of his mouth when there was an earsplitting, banshee-like scream that momentarily froze both men. Jennifer had launched herself out of the shadow of the small, shallow closet with one of the legs of the missing chair raised over her head.

Cal was able to react rapidly enough to move his head so that he took the blow on the shoulder. Durell was not quite so lucky. He took a direct hit on the top of the head and staggered backward.

With yet another yell, Jennifer turned back to Cal, but Cal had recovered sufficiently to lunge forward and drive into Jennifer’s naked body as if he were an NFL lineman intent on tackling her. And tackle her he did, while she tried desperately to hit him with her chair leg. They ended up on the floor between the wall and the cot, with Jennifer flailing at Cal but without enough arc to hurt him. By then Durell had recovered adequately to step forward and grab the chair leg. He tore it from her grasp. As suddenly as the battle had started, it was over, with both Cal and Durell forcibly restraining Jennifer.

“Holy shit,” Cal said. He let go of Jennifer. Durell did the same. All three scrambled to their feet and glared at each other. Durell was holding the chair leg, entertaining the idea of using it on Jennifer the way she’d used it on him. Blood was oozing from his hairline.

“That was not necessary,” Cal snarled.

“You are the ones that are keeping me in this Black Hole of Calcutta,” Jennifer lashed back.

Durell lowered his weapon, rationality gaining supremacy. But he still glared at Jennifer. Cal returned to the other room, wincing as his fingers found the highly tender spot where Jennifer had hit him on the shoulder, aiming for his head. He grabbed one of the bathrobes he’d seen on the couch and brought it back into the bedroom. He handed it to Jennifer and told her to put it on.

Cal returned to the other room and sat gingerly on the couch, trying to find a comfortable position for his shoulder. Durell broke off from literally challenging Jennifer to give him an excuse to hit her with the chair leg. He followed Cal and sat on the couch as well. Jennifer stalked out after him. She had put on the bathrobe and tied it. She defiantly stood with her arms folded. “Don’t expect any Stockholm syndrome from me.”

“I left the lights on in here to be nice,” Cal said, ignoring her comment. “Next time you resort to violence, the circuit is going to be thrown.”

Jennifer didn’t respond.

“We came back to hear if you’d given any thought to what I said when I left earlier,” Cal said in a tired voice. “We would like to know what made you suspicious about your grandmother’s heart attack. That’s all. You tell us that and you’ll be on your way back to the hotel.”