Free Holding Their Own IV: The Ascent by Joe Nobody Page B

know she wasn’t feeling well.
    Two cubicles away, a man stood and scanned the area. Casually strolling to Sophia’s computer, he again checked to verify he wasn’t being watched. Three clicks on the keyboard later, the small laser printer hummed a signal that it was warming up.
    The man stepped to the exit door, carrying the still-warm printout from Sophia’s computer. Carefully studying the black and white characters once and then again, he strolled to a nearby dumpster and tore the paper into several small pieces before depositing them into the huge, metal receptacle.
    Stealthily, he followed a seldom-used maintenance walkway behind the HVAC equipment servicing the building. The modified cell phone in his pocket would attract unwanted attention if anyone noticed it. Cell towers weren’t functional anymore.
    Glancing nervously around one last time, the man hit the send button and waited for the connection.
    The call was answered with a question . “Do you have a name?”
    “Yes.”

    The hospital smelled, well, like a hospital. Bishop hated the scent. Despite knowing better, he couldn’t help but associate the place with turmoil, pain, and death. People are healed here too , he forced himself to admit. My child might be born in a place like this.
    Each room was marked by a small black placard, advertising its assigned number. Bishop’s attention was divided between watching for the colonel’s doorway and staying out of the way of the bustling workers who were rushing around to provide care. Maybe I should come back later when things aren’t so busy , he thought. He quickly dismissed the urge, deciding instead to suck it up and get it over.
    The nurses and staff no longer dressed in primary white, despite the place being a military institution, and that seemed to help override the building’s sterile, cold personality. Still, to Bishop’s eye, it wasn’t a place he would describe as warm, bright, or cheerful.
    The little black sign beside him indicated the colonel’s room was the next threshold. Bishop paused.  Like a patrolling soldier who entered a narrow pass, Bishop’s eyes scanned forward, wary of the ambush. He listened and watched, secretly hoping some important medical procedure was in progress that would forbid visitors. The area was quiet, no presence of hostiles was detected.
    Taking a deep breath, Bishop moved forward and glanced through the door. He could see the foot of a hospital bed and the outline of two legs underneath the covers. No doctor, nurse, or aide was present— the colonel had no other visitors. Maybe he’s sleeping , thought Bishop. I wouldn’t want to disturb his rest. That’s an important part of healing.
    Approaching like a warrior ready to spring on an enemy sentry from behind, Bishop slipped quietly into the room. He found the colonel lying with his head elevated, a magazine unfolded and resting on his chest. His eyes were closed. I’ll come back later after he’s rested , thought Bishop.
    Relieved, Bishop exercised extreme stealth while pivoting to exit the room. A voice shredded the calm, “Hi , Bishop! Grandpa will be so glad you came to visit him!”
    Behind him in the doorway, Samantha and David carried several books and a tray of food. Grinning ear to ear, Samantha rushed forward, embracing Bishop in a hug. The colonel’s sleepy voice sounded out, “Bishop? Is Bishop here?”
    Busted.
    “Yes, sir, I’m here,” a dmitted Bishop. Straightening his spine and pushing back his shoulders, he gathered himself and entered the room.
    The colonel ’s genuine smile eased Bishop’s apprehension—somewhat. As the two men shook hands, Bishop observed the patient’s grip was strong. “You’re looking much better than the last time I saw you, sir.”
    The older man waved off the words. “Thanks in no small part to your efforts, Bishop. I would’ve surely died in Meraton if you hadn’t sent David back with that equipment. The sawbones there said it saved my