Lone Wolf (29 page)

Sarah nodded, but she was rapidly succumbing to exhaustion. It suddenly dawned on her that she had not been to sleep since she had been taken from the farmhouse in England the day before, and she couldn't stop yawning. The nurse smiled down at her. “All that stuff can wait, Sweetie. You look like you need some rest, so go ahead and take a nap.”

Sarah started to nod, but sleep closed over her.

Back at their base, Moose and Neil were getting worried. Neither of them had Carson's phone number, but Neil found the number for the embassy online, and used it as a foundation to start looking for other numbers. He finally stumbled across an office number for Carson, and dialed that.

A secretary answered, and Neil tried to explain to her that he was looking for information about his friend, Alexander Colson. The woman didn't seem to have a clue what he was talking about, so finally he just demanded to speak to Carson.

“I'm sorry, but Mister Carson isn’t in right now. If you leave your name and number...”

“I do not have time to wait for a call back, you stupid bitch! I don't care where Carson is, you get him on this phone right now! Trust me, if he finds out that I called and you didn't, you'll be looking for a new job before the day is over!”

The woman put him on hold without saying a word, and he listened to some ridiculous music for almost two minutes. He was just about to hang up and call again when the music stopped.

“This is Larry Carson,” a voice said. “Who are you, and why are you shouting at my secretary?”

Neil rolled his eyes. “Well it's about freaking time,” he said. “Do you know what I'm talking about if I say Team Camelot?”

Carson's voice lost all of its anger instantly. “I do,” he said. “Are you affiliated with that organization?”

“You're damned right, I am, I'm Camelot four, the computer whiz. I'm trying to find out what happened to Camelot, can you tell me?”

“Yes, he's downstairs in our clinic right now. He was in pretty bad shape when we brought him in, but the doctors assure me he's going to be fine. It's just gonna take a few days before he's up and about. If you need to come and see him, I can arrange it, but I'm sure he's going to be out cold for at least the next twelve hours or so. He's in surgery at the moment, to remove a bullet from his thigh. Luckily, it didn't hit any major blood vessels, but he did bleed a lot.”

Neil was suddenly overwhelmed with relief, and felt tears streaming down his cheeks. He couldn't talk for a moment, so Moose reached over and took the phone from him.

“Mister Carson, this is Camelot two. My buddy here is crying and can't talk, can you fill me in?”

Carson repeated what he had told Neil, adding the additional details about Sarah, and Moose suddenly understood the tears on the boy's face. He wasn't the type to cry, himself, but he knew that Neil was extremely emotional. The relief at learning that Noah was going to be okay had overwhelmed the kid, and Moose could understand that. He thanked Carson, and said he would call the next day to see about visiting Noah. He hung up the phone and looked at Neil.

“He's gonna be okay, little buddy. He's gonna be okay. Sarah is all right, too. She got beat up pretty bad and has a few minor fractures, and her hand is cut up, but other than that she's okay. We'll go see them tomorrow, okay? Tonight we just need to crash here and try to relax.”

Neil tried twice to get words to come out, but failed. On his third try, he managed to say thanks, then suggested they call down to the kitchen to get something for dinner. Moose thought that was a great idea, and it got even better when the cook said that making them a large supreme pizza would be no problem at all.

T
he doctor kept Noah sedated through the night, but canceled the order for sedation the next morning. Noah finally woke up at around 10 AM, and was surprised to find the whole team gathered around him. Sarah had bandages on her own hand, and she had obviously had a bath. Neil and Moose were sitting on chairs across the room, and Larry Carson was chatting with the two of them. When they realized that Noah was awake, they all hurried over to his bedside.

Neil was the first to speak. “I'm going to explain the situation to you, Boss, and I want you to listen to me real closely. I want to make sure you get it the first time, because I like to repeat myself.” He leaned down close to Noah's face. “You are not authorized to get shot! Do you understand me, Mister? No more getting shot, not ever!”

Noah stared into his face for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what the kid meant, then concluded that he was being sarcastic. “I didn't exactly volunteer for it,” he said, and all of them laughed.

“Boss, you're getting a whole lot better at making jokes, lately,” Moose said. “That one almost sounded like you knew what you were saying.”

Sarah pushed both of the men out of the way, and leaned down to kiss Noah full on the lips. Moose whistled, Neil groaned, and Larry Carson said, “If that's what you get for getting shot, I need to go find me a gunfight.” Another round of laughter made its way through them, but then things settled back to normal.

Sarah had already told Moose and Neil what had transpired in the nightclub, and Moose had told her about climbing up onto a nearby building to play sniper. He went over it again for Noah, and then Larry Carson took his place beside the bed.

“You might not have managed to kill Nicolaich,” he said, “but you did something almost as good. The fact that you took out so many of his operatives really pissed off his bosses at SVR. He ran an illegal operation for personal reasons using SVR assets, everything from people to equipment and favors from other governments. He was completely renegade on this, and has been officially disavowed by the Russian government as of this morning. There's a half-million-dollar bounty on his head, so he's not going to be showing himself anytime soon. His entire operation is under investigation, and is almost certain to be shut down. Under current Russian law, the government is not permitted to operate death squads the way the KGB used to do, so a few more heads besides his are going to roll before it's all over. I talked with our boss lady right after that news came out, and she said I'm supposed to put you on your plane and send you home the minute the doctor says you can travel. I got him to admit that you're stable earlier this morning, and he says you can probably fly home sometime tomorrow. He was a little worried about letting you get on a plane at first, because there's some risk of blood clots after surgery, but when he looked at everything they did, he said you shouldn't be in any real danger.”

“Then tell him I'm ready to go on today,” Noah said. “If all I'm gonna do is lie around, I can do that in my own house. Besides, I think I've earned a vacation.” Noah suddenly looked over at Sarah, and then turned back to Carson. “On second thought, scratch that. Call the Dragon Lady and tell her that I need to be here for at least three or four more days, then convince the doctor to go ahead and release me tomorrow. I think all four of us deserve a vacation, and we should take it right here in Moscow.”

Larry grimaced. “Actually, I don't think that's a very good idea. You really did kill off a lot of their people, and a few of them were important enough that they would have survived this shit storm. The government here wants Alexander Colson and Company out of the country as soon as possible. Nothing but the diplomatic immunity I got you when you arrived has kept them from demanding we turn you over right now.”

Noah shrugged, but doing so tugged on muscles all the way down to his leg, so he winced. “Fine, then send me on home, and when I get well enough to walk I'll take the whole team to Disney World.”

“Disney World?” Neil asked. “Can I hold you to that, Boss? I've always wanted to go to Disney World, and never had the chance.”

Noah looked at the kid who idolized him as a big brother. “You bet you can,” he said. “Like Sarah said, the team is like a family. We can take a family vacation, and you guys can even invite Elaine and Lacey to come along, if you want.”

Neil suddenly looked like he was going to panic. “Lacey? Um, don't you think I ought to get to know her a little better before I ask her to go to Disney World?”

Moose wrapped an arm around Neil's neck. “Kid,” he said in a loud stage whisper, “you and me have really got to have a talk about women.”

The team stayed with him the rest of the day, and the embassy kitchen fed them all lunch and then dinner. Doctor Novotny came in late in the afternoon and pronounced Noah fit to leave his care, and then suggested that Moose, Neil and Sarah should go and get some rest, so that Noah could do the same. Sarah took fifteen minutes to kiss Noah goodbye, but finally Moose managed to drag her out. The three of them headed back to the base house, to get everything packed up for the trip home.

Larry Carson came in to see Noah one more time that evening, and handed him a box. “We had to send the car to the repair shop, and we're lucky that our mechanic is an honest one. He found this up under the driver's seat, and I'm pretty sure it belongs to you.”

Noah opened the box to find his Glock, and he grinned. “I hope he didn't take it out back and try to get a little target practice in,” he said. Carson looked at him strangely, but Noah declined to elaborate.

Morning came, and the doctor stopped in just long enough to sign Noah's release order. The rest of the team came in a half hour later, with everything packed and ready for the flight home. Noah was loaded into a wheelchair and pushed out to the parking garage, where the ambulance was waiting for him once again.

“What's that for? I don't need an ambulance, the doctor released me.”

“That's to help you make it out of the country alive,” Carson said. “Diplomatic immunity only goes so far in Russia. After the things that happened the day before yesterday, there are agents of the government here that would ignore it if they got a chance to blow you away. If you ever decide to come back to Russia, change your hair color and make sure you have a different name. Now, get into the ambulance, all of you, so that we can get you to the airport alive.

Noah shook his head, but did as he was told. Moose and Neil brought all of their bags over from the Land Rover, and then they climbed in. Sarah had already gotten in and was sitting beside Noah on the padded stretcher, leaving the guys to sit in the tiny jump seats that folded down from the side.

The ambulance took a circuitous route, so they finally got to the airport about an hour and a half later. The paramedics, who were actually CIA agents in paramedic uniforms, helped Noah up into the plane while the rest of them waited on the ground. When the agents stepped down once again, Sarah was the first one up the steps, followed by Moose and Neil.

Sarah had just gotten into the plane when a car suddenly came screaming through the gate, and gunfire erupted. One of the CIA agents went down instantly, and the other produced a pistol and began firing at the car. There were three men in the vehicle, and the two on the passenger side were firing automatic weapons.

A few bullets hit the plane, and then Neil screamed and fell to the tarmac as a bullet ripped through his lower leg. Moose spun on the stairs and jumped down, scooping Neil up in his arms and then turning to run back up the stairs. He made it to the hatch, but had to turn sideways to get Neil through, and that's when a bullet struck him in the back. He fell into the plane, landing on top of Neil, and Sarah grabbed hold of them to help them crawl further inside.

Down on the tarmac, the remaining agent rolled out from behind the ambulance he was using for cover and fired several shots in quick succession. The car sped away, and the shooting stopped. The agent turned to his partner, but there was nothing he could do. The man had taken a bullet through his throat, and had already bled to death.

Sarah appeared in the hatch of the plane, screaming for help. “They've been shot, two of our guys have been shot! We need help, we need it now!”

Noah had slid off his seat on the floor, and was keeping pressure on Neil's leg. The bullet had passed all the way through the boy's thin calf muscle, and the bleeding was already beginning to slow. Sarah was trying to help Moose, her unbandaged hand pressing on the hole in his back.

Several people had come running from the terminal, trying to see what was going on. One of them announced that he was a doctor, and the agent ordered him into the plane, then jumped into the ambulance and grabbed one of the paramedic emergency boxes. He ran up the steps of the plane with it and passed it to the doctor, who was bending over Moose.

The doctor snatched the box and opened it, found a pair of scissors and quickly cut Moose's shirt away. The bullet hole was a little lower than halfway down his back, and two inches left of his spine. The doctor examined the wound, and muttered in Russian that Moose was a very lucky man. The bullet had passed into him away from his heart, and just below his left lung, slightly above his kidney. He was in no immediate danger, but surgery would be required to repair damage to his intestines. The doctor called to the CIA agent, still thinking he was a paramedic, to bring up a stretcher.

The agent spoke to the doctor in Russian, and the conversation went on for several minutes. Finally, the doctor reached into the emergency kit and began applying bandages. When he was finished, the agent helped him get Moose into one of the seats, and then the doctor inserted an IV line, connecting it to a bag that he found in the ambulance. Working through the agent as an interpreter, he explained that Moose was in shock from the wound, and that the solution in the IV would help his body to endure it. The IV should last long enough for the plane to make it to London, they said, and then the doctor turned to wrapping Neil's leg. Neil would not need an IV, the doctor said, but he gave him an injection of morphine for the pain and to let him sleep on the flight to London.

“We're diverting to London, then?” Noah asked.

“I'm afraid so,” the agent said. “Under the circumstances, we can't take you back off the plane, none of you. Since the doctor says both men are likely to survive, the only thing we can do is get you to the nearest friendly hospital. I'll see to it that arrangements are made for an ambulance to meet the plane at Heathrow, and get them the treatment they need. I'm afraid that's the best solution, and I know it sucks.”