Chapter 41

I was wheeled into the room on a gurney. Glancing over through the glass, I saw a bevy of activity.

Then I spotted Theresa, Fiona, and a man.

Tim mistakenly walked into the room I was in. As he was standing, he had a better viewpoint than I did.

"What the hell?" he said.

He looked at me for a brief second, and then ran into the next room.

I saw Theresa pull at him, getting him to stay way from the doctors and nurses.

Fiona saw Tim burst into the room, but then her eyes caught mine. She pulled the man into the room I was in.

"Shall I close the blinds?" the doctor asked me, pulling my attention to the fact there were others in the room with me.

"No!" I said wanting desperately to know what was going on.

"Then, John," the doctor said, "I need a moment or two of your concentration."

I took a split second to glance over to Fiona. I realized the man with her must be her father, although we had yet to meet. Knowing that Jessica was in the other room and something had happened to her, didn't make my concentration level very high at that point. I also knew there was little I could do. As I was expecting Fiona would tell me what happened, I looked at the doctor.

"Ok. Tell me how bad it is," I said.

"I'm sure you know your cast is going back on. Not only did the water do a number on the cast, buy when they pulled you out, they set you back two weeks. Not that the alternative was a good option."

"I kind of figured that might happen. They were none too gentle, but when I saw the fire floating across the ceiling as they pulled me out, I wasn't going to complain."

I heard a gasp that came from Fiona. The doctor went on.

"That comes to the second part. Your other leg is broken, as well."

He let that news hang.

I looked over to Fiona and her father. She had this look of horror on her face. His expression was hard to discern.

"Will I be able to walk?" I asked.

"It's just a break and I expect it will heal nicely."

"I meant when I have the casts on."

"You're kidding, right?"

"I guess I am," I said with a sigh. "How long will I be immobile?"

"Six weeks, and you'll not be totally immobile, John. You can use a wheel chair. The new cast will not be the full cast your other leg has," the doctor said, as though he had some idea of what a limiting factor that might be. Going on, he added, "The nurse will need to scrub the dead skin off your leg and then we'll be ready to get your new casts on. In the mean time, I think this young lady needs to be seen."

I looked over to Fiona. She had a very surprised look upon her face. That look changed as she realized that she was at the hospital to be checked out.

My gaze continued passed her, looking into the next room. It was empty!

'What happened?' was all I could think.

"Downs, are you secure?" the voice from his cell phone asked.

"Not now."

"Call back."

It wasn't a request. It was an order. The problem was that Special Agent Downs was having a logistical nightmare. Running off to have a private conversation was not in the plans. He had little choice, though, and it made him groan at the bureaucracy that created such problems.

Using the walkie-talkie that hospital security had given him, he asked where he might go to have a private conversation. After a few chuckles, he was directed to an out of the way place.

Once behind a closed and locked door, he called back.

"Downs, that took some time."

"Do you have any idea what I'm up against?" Downs replied.

"Yes, I believe I do. There are four agents en-route. They should arrive in less than thirty minutes from now. Six more are on their way, but it will take a bit longer before they get there."

"It's about time," Downs said.

He knew, that the reason everything fell apart, was that the agents were scattered. The plan to search two properties had been too hasty. There was little thought given to contingencies. With the four agents looking at the one house that had originally been under surveillance, there might not even have been any shots. Maybe. Maybe there wouldn't have been a fire that destroyed a house. What had transpired was unacceptable, and he blamed one person for that: Woods.

"I understand your frustration," the man said.

"I doubt it," Downs replied.

It was not politically sound to say such things to your boss's boss, but Special Agent Downs was not in the mood to care what he said, right then.

Instead of berating Downs, the man chuckled. The reaction threw Downs. Even as mad as he was, he knew he was treading on thin ice.

"I worked with his father. He was on our team ... once. Once was more than enough."

"Did he leave one of his team in harms way?" Downs asked.

Instead of answering that, he said something of more interest to Downs.

"Barnes is in recovery. She pulled through fine, although I understand she's going to have a hell of a long recovery."

Downs found himself sitting. He was damned glad that the chair was in back of him, or he would have landed on the floor.

"Thank you, Sir, for that information. It is hard as hell to get anything out of these people."

"Downs, we don't have the pressure that you are feeling, although I have to say that given the situation, you have been doing a hell of a job. Having your partner in surgery is bad enough. Not being able to pass your authority off, so you can deal with that, is hard. You've been making some good decisions. Moving the kids out of the Bartenelli house was smart. In fact; having both houses vacated, but watched, was very good thinking."