The Life We Lead: Ascending (6 page)

Two minutes later, they were ready to go,
aside from putting on the traditional lead radiation bib. This was
a one shot deal, so it wasn’t worth taking the time to look for
it.

“Alexander, stay with me. Nikolias and Igor,
I’ll need your help to lift him so I can place this plate for the
film behind him. At the same time, Ola, if you and Bryan can
manually bring his bed up to support him as I get the film in
place, that would be best. Anna will hit the radiation. Nikolias
and Igor, we’ll need to then move him back up so I can get the
film. Ola and Bryan, you’ll reset the bed manually to how he was
when we came in. Everyone clear?”

Ola signed James’s instructions to Anna, who
had obviously run the machine before, while Daen translated for the
others.

“On three.” James verbally counted up and
held up three fingers. He had the film in his left hand, ready to
be placed, and started counting. He pointed to Anna to signal for
the radiation.

“Now,” he said to kick off the second half of
the maneuvering. Moments later, he retrieved the film and handed it
to Anna to process.

Meanwhile, Alexander’s blood pressure was
dropping, as was his heart rate. James began gathering tools to
drain the lung. He suspected this was the most immediate threat,
and he used the time while the x-ray developed to grab those tools
he would need to address the lung. He also grabbed a defibrillator
and had it ready to go.

Anna came back with the x-ray. The lung was
damaged, but the puncture had missed the heart. James noted that
Alexander’s lungs were rather small for an adult, which added a
level of unneeded complexity.

The man was starting to fade. James moved
quickly and removed all the bandages.

The moment they were off, James reached for
iodine.

At that moment, the monitor flat lined.
Simultaneously, there was the unmistakable sound of a chambered gun
behind James’s head.

James moved so fast no one expected it. He
turned and disarmed Igor before the man could respond. He removed
the bullets, tossed the gun, and said, “I’m trying to save his
life; leave me alone.”

“Leave it,” commanded Ola to Igor, who had
gone to retrieve the gun.

James did a quick wipe over the ribs with
iodine. He made the incision, placed the draining tube, and secured
it. He was a bit sloppy but fast. “Turn him toward me,” he
instructed.

Nikolias and Daen gently lifted
Alexander.

“Stop, that’s good enough,” said James when
they had him at the correct angle. Anna had already started
propping him up. The blood began to drain.

James placed a manual respirator on Alexander
and had Nikolias operate it. Now the tricky part was shocking
Alexander’s heart back. If it didn’t take the first time … James
didn’t have time to worry about that.

He gelled up the paddles and told everyone to
move away. Anna was ready for the signal.

“Clear,” James said and nodded to Anna.

Two tense seconds passed before they heard a
bleep on the monitor. They had a heartbeat. Alexander then took a
breath on his own that seemed to be the signal that others could
breathe again, too.

“We still have work to do. Ola, can you
please ask Anna to get … Never mind.” James had started to ask for
blood, but Anna had already gotten it. James gave her a big smile
and she smiled back as she hooked up the bag. James returned to
tidy up the draining tube.

“He will live now?” Igor asked.

“I’ve done the best I can. I’m sure the
doctor will be able to mend him better, but yes, I think he’ll
recover.”

After washing and drying his hands, James
turned and punched Igor squarely on the cheek, knocking him to the
floor.

“Don’t ever put a gun on me again,” he said
in a clear but unemotional voice.

The room was stunned.

Ola broke the silence. “Igor is sorry, I am
sure.”

She’d gotten the message. James would do what
he needed to do, but he wasn’t going to be pushed around. He had
patience, and that made him a formidable enemy, but it could also
make him a strong ally.

James turned to Ola. “Could we please bring
Petior here to address some of his wounds?”

She nodded and motioned for Igor to bring
him.

While they waited, Nikolias told Ola
everything that had transpired. James and Daen filled in where
needed but limited what they said. They knew it was far better for
this to come from Nikolias. About halfway through, Petior arrived,
and James set to work to dress the wounds of his Russian
friend.

***

The next day, James received a call from Ola
saying the doctor had agreed Alexander would make a full recovery
and that he, Daen, and Petior were free to go. She apologized that
she was not able to personally tell them, but said Nikolias would
arrive in a moment to escort them out.

The three had been placed in a room made of
solid brick with only one way in or out. A guard had been placed
outside the steel door. James figured this was so he could
conveniently execute them if Alexander died. It couldn’t actually
be to guard them, since the door didn’t open from the inside and it
was the only exit.

Nikolias bounded into the room just as James
told Petior and Daen they were free to go.

“I will take you back to the hotel,” he
smiled, showing them out of the room and to the car.

Daen and Nikolias took the front seat while
James sat in the back with Petior. As they drove, Nikolias and Daen
spoke in Russian, hitting it off, now that the crisis had passed.
One of Daen’s more admirable skills was his ability to quickly make
friends.

“My Ameri`can friend, how can I repay you for
this debt of my life that I owe you?” Petior asked in a sheepish
voice.

“You came to try to help Bryan and me,” James
replied in a soft voice, looking over at Petior. “We saw you enter
the hotel and get into a fight, but how did you know we would
possibly be in danger?”

“No, it is different. I notice children
following you, so I follow to see why. Very different than you
saving my life. You bet your life in order to save mine. Not the
same. I will not forget this, my friend. My life, it is yours.”
Petior said in a way that meant it would be pointless to argue.

James didn’t know what to say, so he merely
gave a nod of recognition.

“I do have question,” Petior continued. “Who
are you, Stephen? You and Bryan, you are not normal Ameri`cans. I
know many people, and I know how to see people. I see more than you
think. You know how to do things. Things like spy, but you are not
spy like I ever know. You are not CIA or FBI. I am former KGB, for
reasons we don’t have to discuss, but I know this. So, who are you,
Stephen?” he whispered to James.

James paused, considering Petior. “We are
part of a group that is trying to understand how the mafias work to
continue the drug trades,” he said quietly.

“You are talking of Russian ways to Italians
into America and how they got it from the Slants,” grumbled Petior.
“This is a fast and dirty thing you want none of. It will break you
into million pieces.”

“Slants, what or who are the Slants?” James
asked.

“Is that not what you call them, the Asian
people?” Petior inquired.

“Oh, I see. Tell me, Petior, why will this
break me, and how are the Asians connected?” James asked.

“You are good man. Strong, smart, and fierce,
but this goes too deep and too ugly. You do not want to follow. I
know some, and it is too ugly. Save your youth for a happier life,”
Petior said, looking down.

“Petior, what can you tell me? I appreciate
the warning, but if I can rid the world of this evil, I will.”
James stared at Petior, who finally looked up.

With a slight lurch the car stopped at the
hotel.

James knew it was now or never. Petior’s body
language signaled he was shutting down, no doubt to protect
James.

“Nikolias, drive around the block once more,
please,” said Daen, who knew with a quick glance in the rearview
mirror that James needed more time.

“I do not understand,” said Nikolias, but
Daen insisted and began to tell the pig joke from the night before
to distract him while James grabbed Petior’s shoulders and pushed
them back into the seat in a body motion meant to keep him
open.

“I take responsibility for what I ask,” James
told his new friend. “I truly believe it is a horrible thing I am
seeking and that ignorance is often bliss. But for men like me,
like us, that is never an acceptable reality. If you value what I
have done for you, please at least point me in the right direction.
You have the power to help me, and I certainly need it.” James made
sure he did not blink as he said this. His tone was measured, half
pleading and half demanding.

“Da, I know of what you speak. I will put you
in contact with a man in UK that can give you information. Calum
will send you to the Asians. They know of the Italians’ ways and
will help you. They hate them.” Petior took a piece of paper from
the seat pocket in front of them and wrote down a phone number with
a pen he asked Nikolias for. He gave James the paper just as they
pulled back up to the hotel.

“But I ask you, please, do not call him,”
Petior said slowly. “I know, wasted words, but I ask it anyhow, my
friend.”

The men exchanged goodbyes, as well as
contact information. A minute later, Nikolias and Petior left in
the car and James and Daen walked in to enjoy a hot shower, soft
bed, and a meal before heading back to the States and classes a few
days later.

Natalia was at the desk reading as they
approached the lobby. When she saw them, she quickly picked up the
desk phone, whispered something, and began to talk in her normal
volume.

“Interesting, man,” said Daen. “Wonder why
she missed her original shift.”

James gave an acknowledging grunt and they
walked on.

Entering the room they shared, they found a
man wearing a coat with a turned up collar and bowler hat peering
out the window.

“I hear you have been busy these last hours
disrupting the peace, capturing my men, saving lives, and earning
the respect of the people. Oh, and enjoying my hospitality. Thank
you for what you have done. I trust you will not wear out your
welcome or earned status with us.”

The man turned, and it was Roman. He had no
trace of an accent. Clearly, James had been wrong about his ability
to speak English.

He went on in his out-of-breath voice, “I
have covered your costs for the trip here and have you on a plane
leaving tonight, in first class. You will find you have enough time
to shower and pack before your flight if you do not delay. Simply
take what you need for your flight, walk out to the black Mercedes,
and the driver will take you directly to the airport. The remainder
of your things will be shipped as you like.”

He said nothing else but placed their tickets
on the bed and walked out.

James and Daen weren’t sure what to make of
this, but James suspected the call Natalia had made was to
Roman.

Daen checked the tickets. “These are first
class … Hey, all our stuff is packed, and they have shipping labels
ready for most of our gear. What the …”

“I don’t know, but this is one of those ‘Go
with the flow’ moments,” James said.

“Really, man, why?” Daen questioned. “A man
we don’t know just did all that for us? What about not being in
someone’s debt and all that jazz you talk about?”

“We aren’t in his debt; he’s in ours. Or he
feels he is. This is his way to try to level the field,” James
answered.

“Are you nuts? How do you work that out?
Okay, yeah, maybe the others, but him?”

“Well, Roman is related to Alexander. I
suspect his friendship with Petior is business related, given that
exchange in the hall with the paper last night. More than likely
illegal business, actually. Roman is obviously in a position of
influence with Ola and the others. Natalia does some spying
directly for him but not for the freedom group, as she didn’t
bother to tell them about us splitting rooms.”

James said all this in a matter-of-fact tone
as he gathered fresh clothes for a shower. He was exhausted and
smelly.

“Man, I know you’re right. I don’t know how
you know that, but you’re never wrong.” Daen shook his head and
began filling in the shipping labels.

James went on as if talking to himself,
practically ignoring Daen and speaking his thoughts aloud.
“Alexander has small lungs, a trait that is passed down genetically
and one that Roman shares, from what Roman’s breathing sounded
like. They also have identical height, hair color, and ear lobes.
My guess is they’re father and son, but that Alexander is a bastard
child. Ola spoke of his family and its importance, but they also
believe in dying for the cause, so why be so worried about one
member’s life unless he’s super valuable to someone high up?”

James shrugged and went on. “The fact that
Ola spoke about Roman understanding means she knows Alexander is
Roman’s son and probably would agree to Petior’s death if he’d
died. What’s interesting is that Ola and Petior didn’t know each
other. That concerns me.”

James continued thinking out loud as he moved
slowly toward the bathroom. “The fact that Roman wanted to stay
away from us at dinner, even though he had to know about us by
then, given the symbol burned into the windowsill where we ate,
tells of his debt to Petior. We also know our actions were
communicated to Roman before we arrived at dinner and again just
now by Natalia. I think Roman’s comments sum up the remainder
nicely, don’t you?” James said all this in a passive tone as he
turned on the shower and undressed.

“Translate that for me in English, not crazy
James thinking,” Daen said.

“I think Roman is some sort of commander in
that freedom group. The one with the symbol that I saw at the train
station, at his place, the tattoos and all. I think Ola is in
charge of all of that for him. We discussed Roman and Petior’s
rather lucid relationship, but Petior doesn’t seem to be involved
with the freedom movement group at all. Roman is the key, like he
sees the two sides of a coin.”