“Here we go.” He pushed the forceps into the raw wound and Robert screamed aloud with the pain. Bright lights flashed in front of his eyes. He started to lose consciousness.
“It’s out,” Dr Hilsinger said.
Robert sat there for a moment, trembling, taking deep breaths, fighting to regain control of himself.
Dr Hilsinger was watching him closely. “Are you all right?”
It took Robert a moment to find his voice. “Yes … patch it up.”
The doctor poured peroxide into the wound, and Robert started to pass out again. He gritted his teeth. Hang on. We’re almost there. And finally, blessedly, the worst was over. The doctor was strapping a heavy bandage across Robert’s shoulder.
“Give me my jacket,” Robert said.
Dr Hilsinger stared at him. “You can’t go out now. You can’t even walk.”
“Bring me my jacket.” His voice was so weak he could hardly talk. He watched the doctor walk across the room to get his jacket, and there seemed to be two of him.
“You’ve lost a lot of blood,” Dr Hilsinger cautioned. “It would be dangerous for you to leave.”
And more dangerous for me to stay, Robert thought. Carefully, he slipped his jacket on and tried to stand. His legs began to buckle. He grabbed the side of the table.
“You’ll never make it,” Dr Hilsinger warned.
Robert looked up at the blurry figure in front of him. “I’ll make it.”
But he knew that the moment he left, Dr Hilsinger would be on the phone again. Robert’s eyes fell on the spool of heavy surgical tape Dr Hilsinger had used.
“Sit in the chair.” His words were slurred.
“Why? What are you …?”
Robert raised the gun. “Sit down.”
Dr Hilsinger sat. Robert picked up the roll of tape. It was awkward, because he only had the use of one hand. He pulled the end of the wide tape loose and began to unroll it. He moved over to Dr Hilsinger. “Just sit quietly and you won’t get hurt.”
He fastened the end of the tape to the arm of the chair, and then started winding it around the doctor’s hands.
“This really isn’t necessary,” Dr Hilsinger said. “I won’t …”
“Shut up.” Robert continued to bind the doctor to the chair. The effort had started the rivers of pain flowing again. He looked at the doctor and said quietly, “I’m not going to faint.”
He fainted.
He was floating in space, drifting weightlessly through white clouds, at peace. Wake up. He did not want to wake up. He wanted this wonderful feeling to go on forever. Wake up. Something hard was pressing against his side. Something in his jacket pocket. With his eyes still closed, he reached in and held it in his hand. It was the crystal. He drifted back to sleep.
Robert. It was a woman’s voice, soft and soothing. He was in a lovely green meadow, and the air was filled with music, and there were bright lights in the sky overhead. A woman was moving toward him. She was tall and beautiful, with a gentle, oval face and a soft, almost translucent complexion. She was dressed in a snow-white gown. Her voice was gentle and hushed.
No one’s going to hurt you anymore, Robert. Come to me. I’m waiting here for you.
Slowly, Robert opened his eyes. He lay there for a long moment, then sat up, filled with a sudden sense of excitement. He knew now who the eleventh witness was, and he knew where he was to meet her.
Chapter Fifty
Day Twenty-Three
Paris, France
He telephoned Admiral Whittaker from the doctor’s office.
“Admiral. Robert.”
“Robert! What’s going on? They told me …”
“Never mind that now. I need your help, Admiral. Have you ever heard of the name Janus?”
Admiral Whittaker said slowly, “Janus? No. I never heard of him.”
Robert said, “I’ve found out he’s heading some kind of secret organization that’s killing innocent people, and now he’s trying to kill me. We have to stop him.”
“How can I help?”
“I need to get to the President. Can you arrange a meeting?”
There was a moment of silence. “I’m certain I can.”
“There’s more. General Hilliard is involved.”
“What? How …?”
“And there are others. Most of the intelligence agencies in Europe are in it, too. I can’t explain any more now. I want you to call Hilliard. Tell him I’ve found an eleventh witness.”
“I don’t understand. An eleventh witness to what?”
“I’m sorry, Admiral, but I can’t tell you. Hilliard will know. I want him to meet me in Switzerland.”
“Switzerland?”
“Tell him I’m the only one who knows where the eleventh witness is. If he makes one wrong move, the deal is off. Tell him to go to the Dolder Grand in Zurich. There will be a note waiting for him at the desk. Tell him I also want Janus in Switzerland, ;.n person.”
“Robert, are you certain you know what you’re doing?”
“No, sir, I’m not. But this is the only chance I’ve got. I want you to tell him my conditions are not negotiable. Number one, I want safe passage to Switzerland. Number two, I want General Milliard and Janus to meet me there. Number three, after that, I want a meeting with the President of the United States.”
“I will do everything I can, Robert. How will I get in touch with you?”
“I’ll call you back. How much time will you need?”
“Give me one hour.”
“Right.”
“And Robert …”
He could hear the pain in the old man’s voice. “Yes, sir?”
“Be careful.”
“Don’t worry, sir. I’m a survivor. Remember?”
One hour later Robert was speaking to Admiral Whittaker again.
“You have a deal. General Hilliard seemed shaken by the news of another witness. He’s given me his word you will not be harmed. Your conditions will be met. He’s flying to Zurich and will be there tomorrow morning.”
“And Janus?”
“Janus will be on the plane with him.”
Robert felt a surge of relief. “Thank you, Admiral. And the President?”
“I spoke to him myself. His aides will arrange a meeting for you whenever you’re ready.”
Thank God!
“General Hilliard has a plane to fly you to …”
“No way.” He was not going to let them get him into a plane. “I’m in Paris. I want a car and I’ll drive it myself. I want it left in front of the Hotel Littre in Montparnasse within half an hour.”
“I’ll see to it.”
“Admiral?”
“Yes, Robert?”
It was difficult to keep his voice steady. “Thank you.”
He walked down Rue Littre, moving slowly because of the pain. He approached the hotel cautiously. Parked directly in front of the building was a black Mercedes sedan. There was no one inside. Across the street was a blue and white police car, with a uniformed policeman behind the wheel. On the sidewalk, two men in civilian clothes stood watching Robert approach. French Secret Service.
Robert found that he was having trouble breathing. His heart was pounding. Was he stepping into a trap? The only insurance he had was the eleventh witness. Did Hilliard believe him? Was it enough?
He walked toward the sedan, waiting for the men to make a move. They stood there, silently watching him.
Robert moved toward the driver’s side of the Mercedes and looked inside. The keys were in the ignition. He could feel the eyes of the men fastened on him as he opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat. He sat there a moment, staring at the ignition. If General Hilliard had double-crossed Admiral Whittaker, this was the moment when everything would end in a violent explosion.
Here goes. Robert took a deep breath, reached down with his left hand and turned the key. The motor purred into life. The Secret Service men stood there, watching him drive away. As Robert approached the intersection, a police car pulled in front of his car, and for a moment, Robert thought he was going to be stopped. Instead, the police turned on their red flashing light, and the traffic seemed to melt away. They’re giving me a fucking escort!