Border Lines (Reachers Book 2) Read online

  “As I suspected. How are things going with you guys?”

  “Well we're now on the run from the cops, which is exciting. We're lying low at your place which is disgusting, and this is our third day in and we've got absolutely nothing yet. What about you?”

  Roxy sat up some more and checked the door. “Things are looking up pet because I've been making vast amounts of progress. Dr Curtis is an interesting one. He's not going to last here at all. He's trying to make all these hospital reforms and most of the other doctors hate him.”

  “Why?”

  “Mainly because he's the son of a pastor and doesn't deny his Christianity or so I'm told. But I think it has a little to do with his total disrespect for the board of directors too. He knows he isn't sticking here so he's making every change he can now before they get rid of him.

  “He's in his office at lunch time and after hours. The rest of the time he's in surgery or doing the rounds. From what the other nurses say he doesn't have much of a life outside of the hospital. No wife or kids, and he's sharing nursing accommodation across the road, despite what he's earning at the minute. I think we're going to enjoy cracking this one, partner.”

  23

  Colonel Mal Moore lived out in the suburbs. His backyard touched the border fence, but the other side as far as he was concerned only stretched out another half a mile before the ground broke away into nothing. It was a strategically placed home. Fixed on the end of the road there was only one route in or out and the colonel would be able to see everything from the comfort of his front porch.

  It wasn't the biggest house Charlie had staked out, but it was big enough to remind the neighbours what an upstanding citizen General Mal Moore had been during his military life. He was a hero around these parts, which was partly due to the lies he spread about himself, and partly due to the fact this was where most of the retired Institute militia ended their days. And to them he was a hero.

  Another eight houses surrounded him and all had the potential to be filled with faces from Charlie and John's past. Faces they might recognise and faces that might recognise them. From the comfort of their car they watched the houses.

  “Is he watching us?” Charlie asked. There was no one out in the gardens or walking the street. It was as though the mere sight of an unfamiliar car was enough to put them back in their watchtowers – guns poised.

  “Second window from the right, ground floor,” John said. “So is the house on the left.”

  “Does it look like he's got any security?”

  “No extra people. He's there on his own. There's cameras set up in the driveway, probably motion sensor. He's got an alarm too, I can just about make it out.”

  “In through the back to avoid the neighbours and disable the alarm then.”

  “What about the cameras?” John asked.

  “Leave them on.”

  “How do you want me to kill him?” John asked.

  “You kill him? We haven't decided who is going to kill him.”

  John scowled. He had more of a vendetta against the militia than Charlie, but that didn't mean Charlie didn't hate them enough on his own.

  “Are you seriously going to pout at me until I give in?”

  “Are you seriously trying to tell me you can kill the guy in one shot?” John arched his eyebrow.

  “Screw you! I can kill a man with one bullet, you arsehole.”

  “And if you miss?”

  “I won't miss.”

  “If he's moving?”

  Charlie sighed. “Fine, you do it then. But do it quick.”

  “He deserves a slow death for what he let happen.”

  Charlie nodded. Men like Colonel Moore were all the same – cowards in uniform. The colonel had supervised the Institute laboratories for years. Watching the progress of the scientists as they experimented on kids like John and Charlie. Often Charlie would tilt his head back in agony and see the colonel's face, encouraging the scientists in their latest sadistic innovation. He was like a little ray of enthusiasm in a sweltering hell, popping up and clapping as John shot dead another helpless innocent. And then one day he was ordered to pack up his team and dispose of the laboratories. That meant the research, the scientists, the test subjects.

  When Charlie and John escaped that night, running through the sodden undergrowth, both boys stopped and turned to watch all of the scientists executed in the courtyard.

  John's jaw twitched as he ground his teeth – remembering the same moment.

  “Tomorrow?” Charlie said.

  “Tomorrow.”

  24

  Buildings in S'aven exploded all the time and bits of people were brought into the hospital. She'd seen a lot in her career and yet this was the first time she was totally and utterly dumbstruck.

  The man in the bed was Mr Laurie. He was sixty-four – a borderline diabetic from an uncontrollable sweet tooth. His face was wrapped in bandages – a souvenir from his second facelift this year. He'd barely touched his food and his tray had been clumsily pushed away in what looked to be a strop. But that wasn't what was shocking. The treatment was a surprise, the behaviour an irritation, but Rachel had no idea how to answer him as he presented her with a flaccid penis and told her to get to work.

  “Excuse me?” she eventually said.

  “Listen sweetheart,” he said through the bandages. “I haven't got all day, either stick this in your mouth or fuck off.”

  “You know this is a hospital?”

  “Do you? Where's Cara? I want Cara.”

  “She's on holiday, I guess she needed a break from something. Mr Laurie, I'm going to tell you this once and only once. If you present your penis to me again, I am going to assume there is a problem with it and then I am going to find the thickest surgical camera I can, stick it in there and have a damn good poke around.”

  Laurie quickly drew the covers up over himself. “I'm going to report it to your boss.”

  “You do that. Now your stats look fine, I'll be back to check on you in an hour.”

  Her bedside manner had been good. She commanded a patient while still putting them at ease. She prided herself on her ability to deal with even the most difficult patients but after two hours she wasn't sure she would be able to make it to the end of her shift.

  She needed some air. Each ward had access to an open balcony, it was supposed to be a Zen zone, but the only purpose it really served was a smoking area for patients getting their arteries blown. When Rachel stepped outside there was only one other person out there.

  The open backed gown wasn't strictly necessary, but obviously Roxy liked the intimate draft blowing across the Union Jack tattooed across his right buttock. He rested against the balcony railings, a twist of smoke dancing over his liquorice flavoured cigarette. She stood beside him and took the cigarette out of his fingers. She wasn't a smoker – she couldn't afford to be – but after a bad day at St Mary's a lot of the doctors would gather outside after their shift and share a cigarette in silence before fleeing home. She let the smoke fill her lungs and for the briefest moment her body had a surge of adrenaline.

  “So how is it being back playing doctors and nurses?” Roxy asked.

  “Well let me see, all of the staff here are useless. All of the patients are more than well enough to go home and Mr Laurie has just waved his dick at me – so I'm having a whale of a time.” She took another drag and returned the cigarette to him. “How's the arm?”

  “Hurts like a bitch.”

  “Do you want me to have a look? You're one of my few genuine patients. Do you know I've got one guy who is in recovery with a broken toe? A broken toe? I've worked a twelve-hour shift with a broken hand before! Stupid bastard is still complaining he's not getting enough pain relief.”

  “Welcome to the world of the rich and useless.”

  Her tablet started beeping at her. She pulled it out and tried to get the screen to work.

  “Problems?”

  “Probably just one of them needing their
pillows fluffing.”

  “Nurse Kenzie is good at that,” he said with a wink.

  She nudged him in the side. “Is there a nurse here you haven't slept with?”

  He pursed his lips. “No, I think I've got them all covered. I'm moving up to the doctors tonight. I'll have this place figured out by the morning.”

  “Let me know when you start pillow talking with Dr Curtis.”

  The tablet started to become impatient. She sighed and headed back into the disappointing lull of the best hospital in the country.

  When she got the screen to work it was flashing the room she needed to go to. Mr Jeffries was another of her actual patients. He'd just had major heart surgery and his recovery was slow. Jeffries was in his fifties with a string of health issues. He had been a border guard his entire life, not a profession Rachel was fond of, but at least he was a worker – not like the rest of them in Great General.

  She opened the door to the room and greeted Jeffries and his wife. His wife had been crying and Jeffries seemed to be struggling to hold things together. Rachel smiled, wondering if she'd just walked in on a fight and then she tapped her tablet to find out what all the fuss was about. It simply read: discharge patient immediately.

  She checked Jeffries' vitals. He was slowly getting back to stable health, but the next days were crucial. Moving him would be too dangerous, especially as another day on the medicom could see him make a full recovery without relapse. If Laurie could stay another day, then there was no reason Jeffries couldn't. She tried to cancel the ringing and settled with just switching it off altogether.

  “How long do we have to pack?” Mrs Jeffries asked.

  “I'd say you're going to be with us a little while yet. Your husband is going to have to stay here until at least tomorrow, but personally I'd like to keep him in a couple more days just to make sure. His stats are good, but they're not great. I'd like to keep an eye on him for a little bit longer.”

  “We can't afford any more days,” his wife said and Jeffries glanced away in shame. “I know we said we could, but our money ran out. We have nothing.”

  “This is your husband's health, you can't put a price on that.”

  “We have nothing left,” Jeffries confessed. “She sold the house, everything we have. We can't pay you.”

  Rachel frowned. They had a high discharge rate in St Mary's, but that was usually the best way to keep patients alive. If you were in St Mary's for longer than a day you were probably in the morgue. But Great General kept people in for weeks, allowing them to occupy beds for as long as they kept paying for them.

  “Listen, it'll be for a day, maybe two. I'll hold off on the paperwork, you two just concentrate on getting some rest.”

  Neither of them seemed to believe what she was saying. She backed from the room and decided she'd just leave the tablet switched off. That way it wouldn't do what it needed to and Jeffries could just lay under the radar. She congratulated herself and went for a celebratory coffee.

  It was an hour before her mistake caught up with her.

  “Did you want to get fired today?”

  Rachel turned around and stared at the tall man standing in front of her. He was wearing a suit rather than a white jacket, but he had the look of a doctor. An important doctor.

  “Excuse me.”

  “Hand me your tablet.”

  She hesitated, but gave it over.

  He shook his head angrily when he realised it was switched off. “You have endangered the lives of your patients with your carelessness.”

  “How exactly I have done that?” She cringed at the sound of her own voice. She hadn't meant to challenge him.

  “You are supposed to monitor the progress of your patients.”

  “Which I've done. I don't need a computer to check on my patients.”

  He looked up as though he didn't believe her. “Then why is Mr Jeffries still here?”

  “Because he's still sick and he has nowhere to go. To pay for his treatment his wife sold everything. He's still in recovery, there's no way he would survive a night on the streets.” She could hear Charlie's voice in her head, screaming at her to be quiet.

  “What happens to Mr Jeffries is no longer our responsibility. He is no longer a patient here.”

  “Really, that doesn't play on your conscience? This man has worked hard his entire life. He's given up his home, everything he has, and you're going to kick him out so it's all for nothing!” She sucked in the air around her, trying to calm down. “It's not like we've even got a full ward. There are more than enough beds to spare one.”

  “Do you know how much a medicom costs to run?”

  “Do you know that half the people here don't even need to be on one?” She stopped herself, arguing with him wasn't going to help. “Okay, if it's the machine that's the problem let's switch it off. I can monitor him myself.”

  His anger started to subside. “You will monitor him?” he asked incredulously. “And what makes you think you can monitor a patient without a medicom?”

  “I trained in St Mary's in S'aven.” She saw confusion on his face. “I'm a stand–in, here for the week,” she added. “I know how to work without any of those machines.”

  “From St Mary's?”

  She nodded. “Please doctor, eh?” She realised she didn't know his name.

  “Dr Curtis,” he replied.

  Of course it is. Charlie was going to go ballistic.

  “And you are?”

  “Dr Smith, eh Rachel Smith.” She tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her gut. “I know this isn't how you people work here, but this is a hospital and there are half a dozen patients who are treating this place like a hotel or worse. You've worked hard to fix Mr Jeffries' heart, please don't let it be for nothing.”

  His face morphed into a series of emotions – confusion, outrage, anger, empathy – then he settled on understanding. “One day. This isn't St Mary's, our patients here are expected to pay for their treatment.”

  She nodded and allowed him to lead her back to Jeffries' room. Dr Curtis was an imposing man. He commanded the hospital and his presence had every idle employee attending their posts like they lived and breathed for their patients. When they entered Mrs Jeffries started to shake, obviously fearing the worst.

  “Mr Jeffries,” Dr Curtis said with a degree of familiarity. “Your funding has run out and under normal procedure it is the requirement of the hospital that you be discharged. However, Dr Smith has persuaded me to give you this room tonight to continue to recover free of charge.”

  Tears started to form in Mrs Jeffries' eyes.

  “You understand that your stay here will have nothing to do with the hospital. You will have the bed, unless it is required. There will be no use of medical equipment or pain relief.”

  This didn't seem to bother Jeffries. He sat up, ready to stoically take on whatever he had to do, as though this was the least he could endure for his wife.

  “Thank you Dr Curtis,” Mrs Jeffries said. “And to you too Dr Smith.”

  “It's the least we can do,” Rachel replied, ignoring the glare Curtis gave her. “You should probably use the opportunity, Mrs Jeffries, to try and find somewhere to house yourselves when the time comes.”

  She nodded eagerly. “Will it be okay to leave him?”

  “Mrs Jeffries, your husband has had the best care in the whole of the country, I'm sure he'll survive a few hours without you.” Curtis strode over to the medicom and began unhooking Jeffries. While he did so he asked him about the pain and healing. If Rachel didn't know better she'd say he actually cared.

  When he was done, he tipped his head to them all and gestured that Rachel follow him. Like an obedient pupil she did, eager to not push her luck any further. He closed the door for her and continued down the ward. His legs were much longer and she had to move quickly to keep up.

  “Thank you for that, I mean it. I'll work an extra shift to cover the night, nobody else will be put out.”

  He s
topped and she nearly ran into him. “We do not allow our staff to double up on shifts. That's how mistakes happen. Hospital policy insists staff have twelve hours break between shifts.”

  At St Mary's she was lucky if she managed four.

  “If you intend to come in for your shift tomorrow you will go home on time and get proper rest.”

  “I've worked a twenty–four hour shift before,” she said.

  “You've broken one rule today, that's enough. I don't want to see you here after your shift, am I understood?”

  “Yes Sir.”

  25

  The Grange was one of those buildings Mark had no business being in. He'd never paid it much attention since he arrived over the border. Just being a citizen of London didn't grant an automatic pass to everything the city had to offer. Places like The Grange were strictly off limits to people like Mark and Adams. Usually they'd have no right to stain the marble floor with their dirty footprints. But today was different.

  Despite their appearance the receptionist smiled at them. “Good morning gentleman, how can I help you today?”

  Adams already had his badge out, Mark fumbled for his.

  “Agents Adams and Bellamy, your check-in system flagged up a couple of people we'd like to have a chat with, can I trouble you to take a look at some pictures?”

  She took the photographs off Adams. “You know we didn't expect the cops to come out and investigate it. We only file the reports to get the insurance payout.”

  “Excuse me?” Adams asked.

  “You're not here about the robbery? These guys checked in two days ago. They paid a cash deposit, but then left sometime last night. The cops have been given all the camera footage, we paid them to get it processed quickly.”

  “Which officers were that?”

  “Eh, Ruth and somebody. Sorry I can't remember the other one. Man and a woman though.”

  “Did they check the room?”

  “Yeah, but it was totally cleaned out. Even housekeeping said it was spotless.”