"Major," the Asian said softly. The tall man gently put his hands on the grips of the wheelchair and pulled the old man three feet back. "We have to go."
The Major's mad, blue-eyed stare never left Kurtz's face. Kurtz didn't mind this. He'd been hate-stared at by experts. But he had to admit that this old man was a finalist in that contest.
"Major," whispered the tall man and the man in the chair finally broke the gaze, but not before lifting his huge, blunt forefinger and shaking it at Kurtz as if to make a promise. Kurtz saw that the finger was bloody a second before he felt the blood flowing down his right temple.
The Asian wheeled the old man around and pushed him out the door into the dimly lighted hallway. Neither man looked back.
Kurtz didn't think he'd go to sleep after thator, rather, lose consciousness, since real sleep wasn't an option above this baseline of painbut he must have, because he woke up with James Bond looking down at him in the early morning light.
This wasn't the real James BondSean Connerybut that newest guy: dark hair blowdried and combed back, sardonic smile, impeccable suit from Saville Row or somewhereKurtz had no idea what a Saville Row suit looked likeplus a gleaming white shirt with spread collar, tasteful paisley tie sporting a Windsor knot, pocket square ruffled perfectly and not so gauche as to match the tie, tasteful Rolex just visible beneath the perfectly shot starched cuff.
"Mr. Kurtz?" said James Bond, "My name is Kennedy. Brian Kennedy."
Kurtz thought that he did also look a bit like that Kennedy scion who'd flown his plane and passengers upside-down into the sea.
Brian Kennedy started to offer Kurtz a heavy cream business card, noticed the handcuffs, and without interrupting his motion, set the card on the bedside table.
"How are you feeling, Mr. Kurtz?" asked Kennedy.
"Who are you?" managed Kurtz. He thought he must be feeling better. These three syllables had made his vision dance with pain, but hadn't made him want to puke.
The handsome man touched his card. "I own and run Empire State Security and Executive Protection. Our Buffalo branch provided security cameras for the parking garage in which yesterday's shooting took place."
Every other light had been knocked out when we came into the garage , thought Kurtz. That tipped me . The memory of the shooting was seeping back into his bruised brain like sludge under a closed door.
He said nothing to Kennedy-Bond. Was the man here because of some lawsuit potential to his company? Kurtz was having trouble working this out through the pain so he stared and let Kennedy keep talking.
"We've given the police the original surveillance tape from the garage," continued Kennedy. "The footage doesn't show the shooters, but it's obvious that your actionsand Officer O'Toole'sare visible and clearly above suspicion."
Then why am I still cuffed ? thought Kurtz. Instead, he managed to say, "How is she? O'Toole?"
Brian Kennedy's face was James-Bond cool as he said, "She was hit three times. All twenty-two slugs. One broke a left rib. Another passed through her upper arm, ricocheted, and hit you. But one caught her in the temple and lodged in her brain, left frontal lobe. They got it out after five hours of surgery and had to take some of the damaged brain tissue out as well. She's in a partially induced comawhatever that meansbut it looks as if she has a chance for survival, none for total recovery."
"I want to see the tape," said Kurtz. "You said you gave the cops the original, which means you made a copy."
Kennedy cocked his head. "Why do you oh, you don't remember the attack, do you? You were telling the detectives the truth."
Kurtz waited.
"All right," said Kennedy. "Give me a call at the Buffalo number on the card whenever you're ready to"
"Today," said Kurtz. "This afternoon."
Kennedy paused at the door and smiled that cynical, bemused James Bond smile. "I don't think you'll be" he began and then paused to look at Kurtz. "All right, Mr. Kurtz," he said, "it certainly won't please the investigating officers if they ever discover I've done this, but we'll have the tape ready to show you when you stop by our offices this afternoon. I guess you've earned the right to see it."
Kennedy started through the door but then stopped and turned back again. "Peg and I are engaged," he said softly. "We'd planned to get married in April."
Then he was gone and a nurse was bustling in with a bedpan jug and something that might be breakfast.
It's bloody Grand Central Station here , thought Kurtz. Dr. Singh came inafter Kurtz had ignored everything on the breakfast tray except the knifeto shine a penlight in his eyes, check under the bandages, tut-tut at all the bleeding visibleKurtz didn't mention the cuff in the head from Mr. Wheelchairto direct the nurse in replacing the gauze and tape, to tell Kurtz that they'd be keeping him another twenty-four hours for observation, and to order more X rays of his skull. And finally Singh said that the officer who had been guarding this end of the hall was gone.