Free Zero Separation by Philip Donlay Page A

I have a bad feeling this whole thing is about to break wide open. Right now I need to talk to a doctor and find out exactly what Michael needs to make a safe trip home. Then we’re out of here, even if I have to buy the whole damned hospital to do it.”
    â€œWe need to arrange some kind of private security we can trust,” William said. “I don’t think we should leave Michael unprotected for a second.”
    â€œI like that idea. Do you remember that Navy SEAL, Howard Buckley? I met him during Hurricane Helena. He’s a good man. I think he’d be the place to start.”
    â€œIf I remember correctly, he was connected with General Porter from the Joint Chiefs,” William said. “I’ll have someone in myoffice track him down. Do you want me to talk to him, or should I have him call you directly?”
    â€œHave him call me.” From where he was sitting, Donovan could see more and more cops walking up and down the hallway. “I think it might be a good idea for you to take care of all of our plans before you come up here. The place is crawling with police right now.”
    â€œI understand. I’m also going to call someone I know at the Fairfax County Hospital. We’ll plan on taking him there,” William said. “I’ll make the arrangements.”
    â€œThanks.” Donovan ended the call, made his way through the growing crowd, and went to the nurses’ station.
    â€œCan I help you?” A nurse asked as she looked up.
    â€œI need the neurosurgeon that did the operation on Mr. Ross up here as soon as possible.”
    She pulled a clipboard closer and ran down the list of names. “I’m not sure if Dr. Richardson is still on call.”
    â€œAfter what just happened, I suggest you find him.”
    The nurse pursed her lips as she nodded. Without further comment, she reached for a phone. Donovan didn’t stay to listen; he suspected the doctor would show up soon enough. He snaked his way through the small army of FBI agents. He avoided the room where the gunman lay dead and instead turned into a room across the hallway. Michael lay in his bed, the only difference from before was the armed FBI agent next to him.
    Donovan ignored the agent and went to Michael’s side. He studied the monitor, and then his friend’s face, looking for the slightest change in Michael’s condition.
    Montero stuck her head into the room. “If you need any medical attention, go down and get examined in the ER.”
    Donovan turned at the sound of her voice, his eyes burned with anger. “Where in the hell were you? Where was security? Why didn’t you intercept that guy until he was in the room and started shooting?”
    â€œI’m not going to discuss tactics with you.”
    â€œBecause it was illegal or because it was stupid and irresponsible?”
    â€œIt was neither. There was some confusion on the part of hospital security. Simple mistake, really.”
    â€œYeah, I bet. Want to try and explain the intercom? Was it fun listening in on my conversation?”
    â€œIt was an accident. Someone must have inadvertently pushed the button. I’m told it happens all the time. Good thing I happened by.”
    â€œYou’re quite the hero. I want to talk to your supervisor. Who’s in charge of the FBI here in South Florida?”
    â€œThe special agent in charge is Hamilton Burgess,” Montero said. “He’ll be here any minute.”
    They both heard a commotion in the hallway, and Donovan stepped out of the door behind Montero just in time to see the collection of people in the hallway part as if they were the Red Sea and Moses had just arrived. Dressed in a dark suit and tie, a short wiry man with narrow, pinched features was walking toward them with purpose. His blond hair was so thin that his face and scalp both burned the same bright red. Donovan thought the man looked like he was about to