Andrew nodded, “Yes, that’s what I said.”
“Well, let’s just have a good look to make sure there are no other problems, shall we?” Dr. Bennett looked in Andrew’s eyes with appropriate “Mmhmnns and then examined his ears and listened to Andrew’s heart and lungs; then, after thoroughly examining him for any other neurological damage, stepped away saying, “You’re a lucky man, Mr. Kincaid, you do have a mild concussion, but there is no permanent damage. As for your ears, the ringing will go away in a few days.
“That’s a nasty gash on your head and it looks like it will probably need a stitch or two,” he said removing the temporary dressing from the injury on Andrew’s forehead. “Bad bump there along with the cut—how did it happen? Did you get hit by debris?”
Andrew shrugged. “I don’t remember exactly… it hurts though.”
“Well, we’ll take care of that right now.” While a nurse cleaned and bandaged the contusions on his arms, Dr. Bennett sutured the gash on Andrew’s head, “This won’t take long. You need to have someone look at it in a week or…”
“Dr. Bennett—I want to see Charlene Thayer,” Andrew said emphatically, interrupting the doctor.
“I’ll see what I can do, ah…” he paused, “Are you a relative?”
“In a way, look, I need to see her,” Andrew insisted.
“All right, don’t get excited, I’ll arrange it—right after you get a tetanus shot.” Dr. Bennett said quietly, as he nodded to the nurse and she injected Andrew.
Coming out of the treatment room the doctor spoke with Father Ben and Jim briefly. “He’s okay—he can go home if there will be someone with him. He should be kept quiet for a few days. No driving etcetera, and his physician should check that head in a week or so.”
Father Ben shook his head, “I don’t believe Andrew will leave the hospital unless he knows that Mrs. Thayer is going to be all right, doctor.”
“Mrs. Thayer?” Dr. Bennett looked surprised. “Is there a Mr. Thayer?”
Jim answered the inquiry, “No Doctor, Charlene Thayer is a widow. I think Father Lee is right—I don’t think Andrew will want to leave. We’ll take care of him, and thanks… you take good care of her. She’s a special lady,” he urged, his voice dropping. They waited with Dr. Bennett as Andrew emerged from the room.
“Come on, Andy, let’s get you home and cleaned up a little. Then we’ll bring you right back here. Okay?” Jim put a strong hand on Andrew’s shoulder.
“I will, but I have to see her before I go… the doctor said…”
Dr. Bennett nodded and guided Andrew to a room where a medical team conferred as a nurse was monitoring Charlene’s vital signs. She was still unconscious. Dr. Bennett nodded to the nurse as Andrew moved to the bedside. Taking Charlene’s hand he gently kissed it and whispered, “Hang in sweetheart, I’ll be here.”
Jim and Father Ben were eager to hear any report from Andrew, but he just shook his head as he rejoined them. “She’s still out.” His words were mixed with frustration and concern. “Ben, please, will you stay here until I get back? I’ve got a couple of things to do.”
“Of course I will Andrew, and I will anoint her. Remember, my friend, we have a great source of help in our Lord. I will be praying—for both of you. It will be all right,” he said reassuringly.
“Come on, Jim, let’s go.” Andrew felt slightly energized. Maybe it was pure adrenaline. He had something to do.
Andrew had forgotten about Jack and found a note telling him that Hubbard would be at the WAC asking that Andrew call later.
On the way home, Andrew had told Jim they had to remove all the bugs in the apartment. They entered quietly and Jim silently pointed out each of the locations of the listening devices and then carefully removed each one. As they finished, Andrew breathed a sigh of relief. “If I had just been smarter, Charlene and those other people would be all right now. Me and my big mouth!”
“C’mon, Andy, you were targeted,” Jim said in defense. “Maybe something worse would have happened; you know better than to think that whoever did this was going to just forget about you and Charlene Thayer.”
“Maybe you’re right, but whoever was listening picked up some things that I wish they hadn’t heard. Have you spoken with Neil Klein today?” As he talked, Andrew stripped off the damaged clothing and splashed some water on his face. Looking in the mirror at the reflection of the bandaged and bruised individual looking back, he shook his head. “Looks like I’ve been in a fight with a big cat and lost,” he said, closely examining the scratches and the bump on his forehead.
“In answer to your question, no, Andy, I haven’t talked to Klein today, but then I haven’t been home all afternoon,” he said wryly. “And yeah, you do look a little the worse for the wear. I suppose now you’d like to go back to Harborview,” he stated.
“Not just yet. I need to make a couple of calls but not from here unless you know how to remove a phone tap, Jim?”
“Uh uh, negative, not this one. Want to go to the Times or my office?”
“Your office would be more private, right? Then you can drop me at the hospital.”
Jim nodded as Andrew closed the door behind them.
Jack had looked forward to getting together with a couple of the Times editors that afternoon. It was a nice day; the sun was shining and there had been mention of a barbecue pending the weather.
Instead of a barbecue the afternoon was spent with editors Jim Griswold and Bill Cunningham on Cunningham’s boat at the Shilshole Bay Marina. Bill had loaned him a heavy fisherman’s sweater remembering that though a lovely day in Seattle, Jack was still acclimated to Southeast Asia.
The camaraderie with the men from the Times felt good as they sat in the cockpit of the boat and talked. Jack almost felt like he did as a summer intern years ago at the Minneapolis Tribune; safe in their company; not required to prove himself. The conversation flowed freely as well as the Scotch.
When Jack returned to the Athletic Club it was nearly 8:00 PM Sunday evening. He checked for messages from Andrew at the desk, not finding any he went to his room. After changing his clothes and pouring himself a drink he tried to read and then watch the news on television. There had been an explosion in West Seattle injuring several people. Jack cursed, “Even here, I can’t get away from it!” he said throwing the glass against the wall and snapping off the TV.
He flopped across the bed. His body was tired, but his mind continued to play the images and sounds he so desperately wanted to leave him.
He closed his eyes and could still see George Kelshaw’s face and remembered the time they had spent with Vang Pao. The first night George spent talking with the Hmong leader as though he was an old friend. Jack could see the affection that he had for the Hmong people. Kelshaw felt at home.
Kelshaw related the incidents at Udorn and of himself being wounded. He told Vang Pao that he was trailing a man who he believed was a rogue American agent and was responsible for Thayer and Chernakov’s betrayal and ambush.
Vang Pao sat nodding as he listened. George continued, “It is strange, I have been in many villages looking and no one has admitted to seeing a person that might fit this guy’s description. It’s true that I didn’t see him clearly, but I’m certain he’s an American and something tells me he’s not far away.”
Vang Pao spoke thoughtfully, “Kelshaw, I will relate to you what I know and what I suspect. Two days before we were to go to the airstrip we received word from CIA that the rendezvous would be delayed. We were to wait for a new time. Three of our people were keeping watch at the airstrip and saw a military truck arrive. It carried a Soviet officer with a driver and a guard. As my men watched, the guard and the officer got out of the truck and it was apparent that the guard intended to kill the officer, but the truck driver shot the guard and after conferring with the officer briefly, drove away leaving the officer alone.”