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“Yes. We need the nearest hospital.” Mark stood with his hands on his hips. “Fast.”
When Tess noticed all the color had drained from Mark’s face, she forced herself to stay alert. The pale pallor of his skin alarmed her.
“We’ll take you to Vancouver General, a couple of hours south. I’ll escort you, and Sergeant Peters here will meet the coroner to recover the suspect,” Sergeant Morrison said.
A faint siren wailed in the distance, and Mark held up a hand. “Wait. You must send someone to Anderson Campbell’s farm, where we were held captive. The gunmen took him hostage, and he needs hospitalization if he’s going to avoid having his foot amputated.”
“You’re telling me the suspects took over Campbell’s farm?” Morrison dropped his mouth open, whipped off his sunglasses, and squinted at Mark.
“They imprisoned us in the barn, but we escaped into the woods. Two of the kidnappers are still searching for us,” Mark said.
“I’ve known Campbell since I first moved to BC. Did they hurt him?” Morrison’s forehead wrinkled, and he extracted his phone from his pocket.
“No, but he’s got a septic infection and needs immediate care. He told me how to escape the barn, which saved our lives, and I’m grateful he helped us.”
Morrison nodded. “Gem of a guy, though he sure loves his whiskey. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll send a unit over to help him ASAP.” He stepped away and leaned an arm against Tess’s side of the truck.
Tess overheard Morrison call the Vancouver RCMP office and order an emergency response team to the Campbell farm. Awake again, she leaned her head out the door. “Sergeant? You’d better warn them the armed suspects could still be at the farm.”
“Affirmative.” Morrison gave her a thumbs-up and nodded.
Peering out the dusty truck window, she saw the ambulance truck arrive and pull up alongside the RCMP SUV. The tension in her body released.
Outside, Mark staggered to the ambulance and slumped limply against it.
Before Tess could shout for help, one EMT rushed to catch him and quickly strapped an oxygen mask over his nose.
After the EMTs got her loaded into the two-stretcher cab compartment and set up a line containing IV painkillers, she waited for the pain relief to kick in. She heard Mark groaning in the stretcher next to her and reached over to squeeze his hand. Glimpsing his smile under his oxygen mask, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
When she realized she hadn’t thought of Kyle since yesterday afternoon, she suffered pangs of guilt. Still holding Mark’s hand, she lifted her other hand to touch the Celtic amulet around her neck but found only her bare, scraped skin. The necklace was gone. She patted her neck several times, then checked for it inside her blouse, as well as in the oversized barn coat. Nothing. Stifling a sob, she bit her lip. Was losing Kyle’s amulet her punishment for having sex with Mark? If there was an afterlife, would Kyle know she had slept with Mark?
Hurtling over the twisting road, the ambulance headed south on the Sea-to-Sky Highway to Vancouver. Towering rock walls formed the road's eastern side. To the west, snow-capped mountains rose from the Pacific Ocean and reached toward the sky.
Hazy from the painkiller, she perceived the view as a dreamy mirage. By all measures, she should feel more relief. Returning to civilization assured her physical safety, but the fresh, raw emotional trauma retained its grip. Inside her head, she still perched on a wobbling, craggy precipice atop a cliff that could collapse at any moment. After countless dark moments since Friday night, she expected the mere act of rescue to fix everything—injuries, shock, and trauma. Despite the blasting heat inside the ambulance, she shivered as her body turned cold from the fear haunting her. Yuri and Dmitry are still out there.
Chapter Nine
Aftermath
A couple of days later, Tess leaned on her crutches in her living room and gazed at Seattle’s Lake Union in the first light of dawn. The colorful collection of yachts, speedboats, and kayaks docked around the lake stood out in contrast to the dull, gray sky. Soft drizzle filled the air. The scene reminded her of September’s golden days when she moved into her condo, which now seemed like several lifetimes ago. Since she returned home, these signs of everyday life comforted her and proved she had survived and wasn’t trapped or suspended in time.
The attack in Canada was over, and the police completed their gritty accounting of witness interviews, physical evidence, and bullet casings. Out of respect for Riku’s death, Timberline Ventures hadn’t rescheduled the cybersecurity summit, and all new business remained on hold. Mystified the earth could keep turning on the same axis, Tess couldn’t understand how the snow-capped Canadian mountains stood untouched as if nothing nefarious had happened. Despite the bright daylight, a persistent chill remained lodged under the surface of her skin. Fear had burrowed deep in her consciousness, making her uneasy. Her life had divided into two halves—one before the attack, and this other one, a present filled with nothing but uncertainty.
At first, all she remembered were sounds, which replayed in her mind: the gurgling bronze fountain in Cedarcliff’s foyer, Riku’s crystal whiskey glass shattering, then gunfire. She recalled Mark’s soothing voice assuring her they’d survive. Other sensory memories jarred her at strange moments without warning, like the metallic smell of blood and the taste of the farmer’s whiskey burning her throat. Buried deeper were the forest scents of fresh, wet pine trees and Mark’s sandalwood cologne. Sometimes she couldn’t remember anything except the hospital’s antiseptic odor and the buzz of morphine coursing through her body after surgery.
Her days in the hospital remained a blur. A vague recollection of arriving at Vancouver General surfaced. Overnight, she and Mark became accidental celebrities, dubbed the “Cedarcliff Hostages” by Canadian media. Terrorist attacks and high-profile kidnappings were unheard of in British Columbia, and the hospital staff had hummed with curiosity around them. The hospital lights blinded her with brightness, and she wanted to run away but couldn’t flee due to her injuries.
When she had fallen into the ravine and impaled her leg on a tree branch, she was left with two gaping wounds. Her leg had swollen to a shocking size at the hospital, and she had lost all nerve sensation. An argument ensued near her, filled with loud voices and words like severe and emergency. Groggy from painkillers, she couldn’t focus on anything except Mark’s worried gaze, although he reassured her everything would be fine. Unable to recall any details, Tess experienced flashes of random, disturbing moments she couldn’t connect.
The day after surgery, her nurse shared Mark refused treatment for his broken ribs and injured lung until he was satisfied with her doctor’s surgical plan. Another nurse confided Mark spent hours by her bedside while she recovered post-operatively. After the police ran tests on it, her bloody satellite phone arrived in a plastic evidence bag. A nurse cleaned it before returning it to Tess, mercifully sparing her the sight of Riku’s blood.
The first dressing change after her surgery proved a rude shock and revealed two raw incisions carved into her lower calf, both red and angry. During the same surgery, a plastic surgeon sewed together the broken skin over her cheekbone with a thin, neat line of stitches designed to minimize scarring. She hoped it worked. Not for vanity but to avoid reminders of Yuri whenever she passed a mirror for the rest of her life.
A reminder beeped on her phone, announcing her next painkiller dose was due. She swallowed a white capsule with water and eased herself back onto the couch with a fresh ice bag. Wide-awake and restless, she got the random idea to call Kavita Chakyar.
“Tess, my goodness. How are you holding up?” Kavita answered on the fifth ring, breathless.
“Pretty sore and bruised, and I needed surgery on my leg. How are you?” While Kavita’s voice tended to trigger her annoyance, today, Tess curved her mouth into an awkward smile of relief.
