Page 73 of Airborne
“No need to walk through this alone.”
“I already am.”
On the main floor, he exited the elevator. He’d wait in the lobby for the New York agent to pick up and return his devices. Later he’d grab a ride to the airport and work until his flight left. A crowd of people with cameras and mics rushed toward him.
“Dr. Lawrence, why are you in New York?”
“Why are you at Jamaica Hospital?”
“Is your conscience bothering you?”
The whoosh of cameras.
“Did you infect your wife with the killer virus?”
“Are you here to observe your dirty work?”
A large bearded man bolted his way. “Murderer.” His fist landed in Chad’s face and shoved him backward. His head cracked against the tile floor.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAD STRUGGLED TO MAKE SENSEof his world. An ax cut into the back of his head and chopped into his skull. The excruciating pain limited his ability to think straight. Words formed but they were rooted in his mind.
“Dr. Lawrence, move your fingers if you hear me.”
The urgency in the woman’s voice told him this was important, but her voice sounded distant, muffled. He tried to wiggle the fingers on his right hand.
“Good. I’m Dr. Weslyn. You’re in the emergency room.”
“Head...”
“You had a nasty fall.” She lifted his eyelid and shone a blinding light. Then the other. “Your pupils are dilated.” She took his hand. “Squeeze once if you are nauseous.”
He followed instructions with a slight touch.
“Is your hearing impaired?”
He concentrated hard despite the pain. He squeezed her hand again.
“What you’re experiencing is normal for your type of head trauma. I’ve requested a CT scan to give us a better idea of potential injuries. We’re ready to roll you to imaging. You also require stitches.”
“Wait a moment,” a man said. “Let me talk to him.”
“Make your conversation brief,” Dr. Weslyn said.
“Dr. Lawrence, I’m Special Agent McNally from the New York FBI office. Agent Rivera requested we pick up your phone and laptop. I walked into the hospital shortly after you were assaulted. Do you remember anything about the situation?”
Chad recalled the reporters... the questions... He fought the relentless pain and willed his eyes to open. Through blurred vision, he glimpsed a suit, but the agony in his head forced his eyes shut again. “A man attacked me.”
“A reporter?”
“No idea. Media was there.”
“Did you recognize him?”
“No.”
“Did he say anything?”
