"Hey, be careful, this guy is damaged goods!" I heard Harvey shout.
Harvey.
That bastard left me to be caught.
I turned to see he was receiving the hose treatment as well.
"You bastard, where the fuck did you get to?" I muttered through chattering teeth.
"Later, Cap, later, just concentrate on getting the shit off."
I was so weak, I collapsed again before they finished. I heard someone cursing but could no longer give a shit. At that moment, I honestly would have preferred to die, as every bruise and broken tooth ached abominably. I felt them dressing me, but had switched off completely. I heard Harvey getting upset and, by the tone of his voice, I think he was worried, but I blocked everything out as I slid to the ground in merciful oblivion once more.
Still, no hospital.
The next time was even scarier than the shit.
The wind was the first thing I became aware of, and then the noise.
I was on my back being bombarded by wind and noise.
I opened my eyes to see nothing.
The wind and the noise were so terrifying that for a moment I thought I had died and gone to hell. The absence of flames and pitchforks just made me believe that that hell had suffered at the hands of bad trade descriptions.
However, as the throb of the noise began to permeate my addled mind, it became familiar.
I was strapped down, but my arms were free. Reaching up with my hands, I felt a cowl or cover over my head. It was dark beyond, but I could see stars when looking out past my feet.
Memories of M.A.S.H came to mind. I'd enjoyed the movie and TV series back when I'd been growing up, never forgetting the helicopters with stretchers on the side, with casualties coming back from the front.
Helicopters had become more sophisticated, so why was I in a time warp?
Vietnam wasn't really up with the rest of the twenty-first century, so maybe they were using what they could get, or was there another explanation.
I was still wondering when the helicopter landed, mercifully the wind and noise stopped abruptly. We were on a boat, a very small freighter, but other than that, I neither knew nor cared. It all became too much, I passed out again.
I became aware of the pitch and roll of the ship before anything else. I waited for the pain to return, as whenever I'd woken over the last few months, the pain had arrived straight afterwards.
This time I didn't feel any pain.
I moved my legs, wondering why I didn't have muscle cramps due to the bare boards of my bed. I only felt sheets, no boards. I stretched, finding an intravenous line going into my left arm. The lights were dimmed, but there was sufficient light for me to see I was in a compact room, or cabin, as the round porthole told me. I remembered my death, or lack of it. I recalled the smell of the pig shit and then the scary helicopter ride. It all came flooding back.
My bed was the only bed in the cabin, and I the only patient. I looked up to see two clear plastic bags containing liquid hanging on a frame, leading down to my arm. That explained the lack of pain, so I wondered whether it was morphine or something else.
My face was numb and covered in bandages, as if they'd done something to me. As I believed they'd broken my cheekbones, nose and jaw, let alone several teeth, I suppose my rescuers had taken advantage of my being unconscious.
In fact, much of my body was bound in bandages. I frowned, wondering what other injuries and defects I had sustained at the hands of my Vietnamese captors. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't pissed off with anyone for accusing me of something I didn't do. I did it, and was caught. I was pissed off that those who pulled my strings shafted me …again!
Still, this was better than prison, and it was a hell of a lot better than being dead. I just wondered who wanted me so bad to engineer the charade I'd just experienced.
I had no alternative but to lay back and doze, waiting for my saviours to make themselves known.
Chapter Five.
"How do you feel, Captain?"
I woke, slowly and hesitantly. Whatever was killing my pain was numbing the rest of my senses. It was like trying to tread water in treacle. I had been more awake the last time.
The lights were brighter, so I had to screw up my eyes.
"I asked, how do you feel?" the voice asked again
"Like shit."
"Do you know what day it is?"
"I couldn't give a shit."
"Look at the light, please."
A strong beam shone straight into my eyes, and I followed it dutifully for a moment, but then got bored and closed my eyes.
"I think he's okay. The dose is quite high, so he may be disorientated."
"Will he understand me, doctor?" asked a new, female voice. I recognised that one, as it was Maryanne's.
Still feeling numb, and not a little bolshie, I simply lay there, making it as hard as I could for them.
"Robert, can you hear me?" she asked; her voice displaying the timbre and tone of someone who actually cared. I was almost duped into believing her.
"Robert!"
Reluctantly, I turned and faced her, opening my eyes.
"Don't shout, I'm beaten to pulp, not fucking deaf."
She surprised me by smiling. "They never beat your sense of humour out of you, then?"
"They tried. What do you want? I want to sleep."
"I want you to know that you're safe and outside Vietnamese waters. The doctors are fixing you up and that I want you to get better."
"Why the fuck should I?"
"Because, Robert, I want you to. You were caught because I didn't have enough intelligence, so that makes me responsible. If you want to blame anyone, blame me."
"Okay, I blame you. Feel better now?"
"They never found the diamonds, did you know that?"
"I'm sorry, but the paper boy must have missed me off his rounds over the last few months. Of course I know that, Quang Lam tried to get me to tell them where they were one last time just before they shot me."
"That means we can go get them."
"Go on then, don't let me stop you," I said, closing my eyes.
"Where are they, Robert?"
"Sorry, never told anyone, and won't now. Goodnight," I said, slipping away into glorious oblivion.
I dipped in and out of semi-consciousness several times over the next few days. I lost all track of time, so it could have been hours or weeks, but when I finally became more rational, the Thai nurse told me I'd been on the boat for six days. She was a cute little thing who knew very little English, but we managed to at least find out how long I'd been on the ship.
The doctor currently on the boat was a taciturn Thai, who was not disposed to talk to me much. Mind you, I was hardly disposed to talk much either, so we were a well-matched pair. He was thorough and efficient, but refused to divulge what work he’d done on me.
With rationality came boredom and more pain. They had obviously turned my pain relief down a peg or two, so I didn't sleep so much. I knew what they were doing, but I seemed to hurt in the oddest places. They wanted me to wake up and get the fidgets, that way I'd be more inclined to help them. However, they hadn't been inside one of the nastiest prisons in the Far East. I wasn't inclined to do anything that could take me back there.
Maryanne gave me three more days, by which time I was going up the wall. The nurse changed my dressings, but as there was no mirror, I had no idea how bad I looked. When the President of the Corporation finally graced me with her presence, I was angry, frustrated and completely uncooperative.
"Hello Robert, how do you feel?"