Hidden Secrets (Garrett Investigation Book 1) (22 page)

“It seems you’re right sir.”  Mary raised the needle checking for air bubbles before injecting Fletcher straight into his arm.  Next Mary re-checked his blood pressure and heart rate, changing his saline drip, attaching another.  “We need to send this to the lab in case the solution is contaminated.  I think the drugs were administered through his drip!”

“Why’d you think that Mary,” Mal asked quietly

“Look I’m not a doctor, it was just a suggestion,” she replied in a flustered tone.

Narrowing his eyes, he looked at her carefully.  “Who are you?”

“M-Mary Kranski sir,” she stuttered.

“No, I don’t think so,” he put his head on one side looking down at her, “tell me who you are?  More importantly what did you inject into Fletcher?”

Mary sank to the floor beginning to sob.  Two security guards appeared at the doorway. “All medical staff found and tended to sir.”

“Take this woman to security interview room.”

“This way please,” helping her to stand they led her away. She turned to look at Malachy and said.

“He’s my son; I would never hurt him.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, he stood over Fletcher watching, waiting for the doctor to arrive.  A noise at the door made him look up.  Abby stood there watching him.

“Yes Abby? What’s the matter?”

“Ana moved her hand Malachy.  I think she’s pulling through,” she smiled wanly.

Malachy’s smile bloomed.  “Great news, I’ll be back shortly. I need to see the doctor first, make sure he’s safe.”

“Okay Malachy.”  Abby turned and left.

Quin was the next to arrive on the scene followed by a doctor.

“Sorry for the delay sir. A bit like a war zone in medical right now,” he smiled.

“Fine,” he turned to Quin.  “So who escaped and who’s dead and injured Quin?”

“Truit is dead, a bullet to the brain. Blaze is missing, though I doubt he’ll get far.”

“He’s gone far enough already Quin,” Mal snapped.  “What about injuries of the men?”

Quin blanched. “Yuri will survive. He’s got some third-degree burns.  The surgeons are trying to save his leg at the moment.  They’re cleaning out a lot of shrapnel.  We have two dead.  Abe smacked into a jeep, so has a broken shoulder.  Everyone else, it’s cut, burns and bruising.”

“Right Quin, see if we can feed everyone in the cafeteria.”

“Yes boss.”

Turning to the doctor, “Doctor, give me an update on Fletcher.”

“He’ll be fine.  He should wake in the next half hour, only had a small amount of the drug, luckily Nurse Kranski injected him when she did.”

“She mentioned the drug was in the saline.”

“Possible. I’ll have it checked. I see she changed the bag.”

“Thanks doc.”

“Get back to medical, Mr Garrett and get your wrist sorted.”

“Yes doc,” he smiled sheepishly.

Malachy wandered back to medical pulling his thoughts together.  What to do about Blaze, how to explain Truit’s death?  Who was the other person who’d disappeared into thin air, never mind Mary Kranski and her tall tale!  Sighing. He pushed through the double doors, stopping in shock as people raced all over tending to minor injuries.  Thrusting his right hand in his pocket, he walked to Ana’s cubicle.

“How is she Abby,” he said softly.

“She’s out of danger now.  Her doctor wants to move her to a room.”

“She’d like that, a bit quieter than in here right now.”

Reaching out he stroked her hair back from her face, a sigh escaped her as she nuzzled his hand.  He leaned down kissing her swiftly on the lips making her smile.

“Hi Mal,” she whispered.

“Hey Ana, keep working hard and come back to me,” he pleaded.

“Hmm,” she sighed as she fell back into her dreams into a deep sleep.

“I’d better go see the other men Abby.  We need to get things sorted and settled.  I’ll be holding a meeting in the cafeteria within the hour.”

“First get your wrist strapped correctly,” she scowled. “I’ll organise Ana to be moved.  Do you want guards on the doors?”

“Nope, should be
alright
now Truit’s dead.  I don’t think Blaze will come back, and we have cameras on everyone now.”

“See you soon Malachy.”

“Maggie, we’ve been ordered to take you to Trengrove.  Please get yourself ready, we leave in ten minutes,” said Frank.

“Frank, please what’s going on?  Is it safe?”

“As safe as it can be Maggie.”

Sighing, Maggie packed the few bits of clothing she’d been given, looking around her bedroom which had been her home for a week, wondering what was in store.  Closing the door behind her, she walked downstairs waiting in the hallway for Frank and Jones.  The front door burst open.

“Get down Maggie,” yelled Frank as he took her in his arms flinging them both to the wooden floor.  Jones was outside; shooting from behind their car at two dark figures bathed in early morning light.  One flew backwards as the other dived behind a tree.

“Frank he got me pinned.”

“Hold on Jones.  Maggie, keep down and stay down while we get this sorted.”

She shuddered as she clutched at Frank, “don’t leave me.” 

He reached into his boot, “here use this if you have to Maggie,” he said passing her a small pistol. “I presume you know how to use one.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Frank crawled towards the back of the cottage.  Exiting the door, he quickly skirted the gardens towards the forest surrounding them.  Running swiftly and silently, he made his way towards where the gunman was hiding.  Leaning against a tree, he peeked around finding the shooter just out of range.  Moving from one tree to another until he was closer, he smiled before shouting out.

“Hey honey, I’m over here.”

The gunman turned as Frank shot him in the head.  Lowering his gun he walked up to the dead man at his feet, kicking him over, bending down, he checked his pockets for ID stilling when he felt a gun rest against his neck.

“Crap.”

“You could say that Frank.”

“Why Jones, why’s she so important.”

“No idea Frank, just doing my job.  Jones pulled the trigger splattering Frank’s brains over the forest floor.  Smiling, he walked away to collect Maggie and take her to Trengrove.

They arrived by eight in the morning.  Maggie was a mess of nerves. Jones was nonchalant at the loss of Frank.  Their eyes widened when they saw the entrance, something big had gone down.  Jones was secretly amused at how much they’d accomplished.  It seemed like Patrice knew his stuff. Getting out of car, security watched carefully, checking their movements.  They walked toward the entrance.

“Looks like you’ve had some fun recently,” Jones grinned. 

Shots suddenly rang out, Maggie fell to the ground.  Spinning round Jones shot Blaze in his shoulder as one of the security guards shot him in the kneecap.  Jones walked over, kicking Blaze. 

“Don’t think we need the likes of you anymore Blaze,” whispered Jones, pointing his gun at his head.

“Enough Jones,” said Malachy, who appeared quietly at his shoulder.  “Detective Moran is coming to collect him.”  Turning, he watched the medics deal with Maggie taking her into the medical department.

“Come on Jones, I need an update.  Where’s Frank?”

“He didn’t make it boss; we were ambushed outside the cottage.”

“Crap.  I’ll send men out to investigate and remove the bodies.”

“Yes boss.”

“Get some food Jones then we’ll talk in my office.”

“What the hell happened here?”

“Later Jones. I need to see how Maggie’s doing.”

They entered the compound going their separate ways.

EPILOGUE

Anastasia awoke, hearing noises around her; she struggled to sit up, before opening her eyes to blackness.  She blinked her eyes repeatedly before putting her hand on her face to see what was blocking the light.  Her pulse jumped; she couldn’t see her hand, shaking her head she whispered out.

“Is anyone there?”

“Hi Miss Belaruski, your fine love,” whispered a soothing voice.

“W-who are you, where am I?”

“You’re at Trengrove love.

“Malachy, I want, no I need Malachy now, oh god what’s happening to me.”

I’ll make the call; he’s very anxious about you.”

Malachy rushed through the door five minutes later with Abby at his side.

“Mal, is that you,” she whispered, looking towards the noise.

“Yes Ana, I’m here now, so is Abby.  We’ll take care of you.”

Malachy sat on her bed taking her in his arms, “You’re safe now love,” he murmured into her hair.

“Mal, I-I …” She choked on a sob, “Mal I can’t see.”

His body tensed as he released her looking into her beautiful green eyes.  She was staring straight at him.  He gulped quietly.

“Everything will be fine Ana. I promise.  I’ll call the doctor in.”

He stood as Ana stretched out, grasping his suit. “Please don’t go Mal, stay with me.”

Mal looked across to Abby, who was wringing her hands.  Stepping across the room, she took Ana’s hand gently.

“I’m here now Ana; I’ll sit with you.  Mal needs to sort a few things out for you love.  He’s still here.”

“Oh Abby, what’s happening to me.  Why can’t I sit up properly?”

“You’re still partially paralysed from a drug overdose.  It’s causing your temporary blindness.  You’ll be in fighting form soon enough Ana.”

“Truit, I’ll kill that bastard, he injected something into me.  What the hell was it?”

“You can’t kill him Ana; he’s already dead.”

“Good,” she said viciously. “So what’ve I missed and when will my sight return?”

“Ana, the doctor’s on his way now; he’ll be able to explain things better than us,” replied Malachy.  “Here have a drink Ana, you must be thirsty.”

“Yes, I am, though more hungry than anything.  Tell me what’s happening, Abby says Truit is dead?”

“Yes, that’s correct, by whose hand, we don’t know though I suspect Blaze.”

“Blaze, why him?”

“He just tried to kill his sister.  Detective Moran has just taken him away.”

“Oh god, what happens if they let him out on bail?”

“Too much evidence stacked against him Ana, it won’t happen.”

The doctor entered the room, smiling to see Ana talking and partially sitting up.

“Morning Anastasia, how are you feeling?”

“She’s emotional, scared, and at present she can’t see,” ground out Mal.

“Can’t see hmm; we’ll let them rest for now.  With what happened to you and how long you were affected, we thought you’d have temporary blindness.”

“Nice of you to let me know doctor,” Mal said mildly.

“Apologies sir, with all that’s been going on…” He trailed off.

“Mal stop making a fuss.  Let the doctor do his examination,” said Abby.

“Don’t go Mal,” Ana said uncertainty in her voice.

“I’m in the chair beside you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“So how do you feel Anastasia?”

“Lousy,” she grumbled.  “Can’t feel my legs, can’t see anything, can’t do anything,” she muttered.

“Sounds like you’re going to be alright then, humour is important.”

“Was I laughing doctor?”

Malachy smiled at her attitude, knowing, in the long run, she’d be fine.  “All your vitals are normal and active; we just need to keep an eye on the paralysis and your eyes.  We’ll get them tested in a few days if no changes.”

“Thanks doc.  How’s Fletchers progress since the small set-back last night?”

“He’ll be fine, had to put a new cast on his leg, no serious damage there.  We also had to do a new drip since you managed to rip it out of his arm.”

“Hey, it wasn’t me doctor.  I’ll visit him later.”

“I’ll check back tonight, Mr Garrett.”

“What on earth have you been up to Malachy,” Ana asked curiously.

“This and that Ana,” he said, standing up and bending over her kissing her waiting lips.  A whoosh of breath escaped her as she responded, enjoying his taste.

A cough brought him to his senses remembering Abby was behind him.  “Food Anastasia?” asked Abby gently.

“Yes please, I’m starving.”  Ana heard Abby bustle away.  “So, tell me how is Maggie?”

“Not good, looks like she may end up in a wheelchair, they’re not sure yet, still doing tests.  Two bullets hit her, one bruising her spine.”

“Crap, not that I like her. However, nobody deserves that.”

“Nope,” said Mal shaking his head.

“Anyone else hurt or dead that I need to know?”

“Yuri lost a leg below his right knee.  Abe…”

“Abe, he’s on leave,” she piped up.

“He came back, especially for you, my love.  He has a broken shoulder.”

“Any deaths I need to know about?”

“Frank is dead along with Mac and Hank.  Two others from those other marines that went into Truit’s house are also dead.”

“Anything else to tell me?” she said mildly.

“Fletcher is alive and well as you know; would you like to visit him?”

“Later Mal,” she replied as she heard the door open, the smell of some hot and spicy food filling her nostrils.  “Oh, Abby you spoil me,” she grinned.

“It’s all chopped small, so you can feed yourself.  I bought you a napkin too.”

“While you’re eating, I’m going to check on Fletch, Abby will stay with you just in case you need a helping hand.”

Fletcher was sat up in bed reading, though looking thoroughly bored when Malachy entered.

“Hi Mal, have you come to apologise for the damage you did to my cast,” he grinned.

“No, I have a more pressing matter, Fletcher.”

Fletcher closed his book looking at Mal. “What may that be?”

“The nurse called Mary Kranski.  She said that she was your mother.”

“Well, you know it’s a tall story Mal.  The documents you gave me proved we share a mother.”

“Exactly Fletch.  I’m wondering if she was one of the women in the trials that produced you and Anastasia.”

“Is it possible she could be Ana’s birth mother?”

“There isn’t much resemblance. However, DNA can be taken if her story matches any of these documents.”

“The wisest choice no doubt.  How is Ana?”

“She’s still paralysed from the waist down and blind.  It is a good job that Truit’s dead or I would’ve killed him myself.”

“I can’t believe my life has been such a huge lie,” Fletcher grouched.  “It’s going to take some getting used to having a family; so take it easy on me eh Mal.”

“Yeah, we’ll manage.”

Malachy left the room, checking on Ana before proceeding to the interview room where they held Mary Kranski.  Entering the bland room, Mary looked up her face pale, her eyes red from crying.

“Would you like a cup of tea Mary or anything to eat?”

“No,” she replied quietly, “the water will do.”

Malachy sat down in the chair across from her.  Placing a file on the table, he told Mary that he was going to record their interview.

“W-why are you doing this sir?”

“Well, for a start, we need to know who you are, where you’re from and why you said you were Fletcher’s mother.”

“Well, I am his mother.  He was taken from me at birth.”

Leaning forward, placing his hands over hers, he gently said.

“You’re not his mother, Mary.  You never have been and never will be.”  Mary sobbed softly.  “I can prove it, Mary.”

“You’re wrong sir.  He’s my son.  Please let me have my son back,” she sobbed.

“Mary I need you to tell your story from the start.”

“M-my story,” she cried out yanking her hands out of his.  “It’s the truth.”

“All right Mary, tell me the truth from what you know or think you know.”

“Fine, I’ll tell you how I know he’s mine.”

“Good,” Malachy started the recording, giving the date and who was talking.  Go ahead Mary.”

“I was sixteen and living on the streets; my parents were both dead.  I sold my body so I could eat and keep warm.  About a year after I started living on the streets, I was approached by a gentleman who said he could give me a better life.  Of course, I was sceptical, nobody believes that rubbish.”  Mary sighed.  “Anyway, for some reason I believed him.  He was young and well dressed, said he was a scientist…”