Private Monaco

Chapter 93

I was taken to Princess Grace Hospital and scanned before undergoing surgery on my shoulder. My surgeon, Christos Argyropoulos, assured me it was a routine patch job. The scan showed the bullet had gone straight through with minimal tissue and bone damage. I went into theater, but the work was done under local anesthetic, so I got to listen to the Greek doctor cracking wise with his team while he worked. I wasn’t squeamish, but there were times I had to look away as Christos and his American resident, Anthony Leonardi, sutured me inside and out. Thankfully the surgical team had music playing, which helped distract me, as did the back and forth of good-hearted banter between the doctors who constantly ribbed each other.

“Explain the role of T-cell differentiation in immunosenescence,” Christos said.

Anthony scoffed, “I’m not a med student anymore.”

“So, you don’t know?” the senior surgeon countered.

“Of course I know, but I’m not educating you unless you agree to kale sandwiches for lunch.”

“Urgh. Don’t threaten me with that foul weed,” Christos responded, his face scrunching in disgust. His expression changed and he was suddenly thoughtful. “We should get chili.” He patted me on my good shoulder. “You’re all done.”

“Thank you,” I replied. “For fixing me and for the laughs.”

Their humor wasn’t an indication of carelessness, it was a common trait in the Marine Corps and at Private. It was the mark of professionals who had confidence in their abilities and were trying take the heat out of what might have otherwise been a stressful experience for everyone involved, especially me. They’d given me exactly what I needed, and spending some time with people who took joy in everyday life was the perfect way to adjust back to normality. I was no longer facing immediate danger and needed to get myself out of the habit of viewing everyone as a potential threat.

I had my arm put into a sling and was wheeled out of surgery where I found Justine in the waiting area. Her expression was strained, but she smiled when she saw me looking so cheerful, and the tension melted out of her face.

“Jack,” she said, hurrying over.

“I’m fine,” I replied. “Much better.”

I offered her my good hand, and she took it and squeezed it. We held each other as I was wheeled to my private room.

Justine stayed with me as I regained my strength, but we passed much of the time in silence, simply enjoying one another’s company and the joy of being alive.

At 8 p.m. Christos came to check my dressing.

“It looks good. Sutures are holding well,” he said. “You can spend the night here or I can discharge you, provided you promise there’ll be no exertion.”

“It would be nice to go to the apartment,” I replied. “Okay, no exertion.”

“And if you notice any discharge or feel unwell in any way, you come straight back,” he instructed.

I nodded.

“Okay. I’ll write you a script for antibiotics and pain relief,” he said. “You should be able to leave in twenty minutes.”

The pain relief I’d had pre-surgery had reduced the agony in my shoulder to a dull ache and the sling restricted my movement to reduce the chance of my hurting myself. I felt confident I’d be comfortable out of hospital.

Half an hour later, once my discharge paperwork was complete and a nurse had given me a prescription, Justine and I left my room and took an elevator to the fifth floor.

We walked slowly, Justine giving me sidelong looks of concern as though I was made of glass and might shatter at any moment.

We rounded the corner and entered the private ward where I saw the police officer who was supposed to be protecting our friends was missing. My instinct for danger hadn’t died in the operating theater and I felt a flush of adrenalin as I hurried to Sci’s room and peered through the observation window.

His bed was empty and neatly made.

Had something happened to him? My heart sank. I couldn’t take a loss like that.

Justine tapped my good arm and I turned to see her pointing at Mo-bot’s room.

Sci sat on the side of her bed, playing cards with her. There was a mobile IV stand by his side, the bag hanging from it feeding a line into a canula in his left arm.

The cop was at the end of the bed, joining in the fun, clasping a run of cards tightly so no one could see them.

I smiled with relief and Justine and I went inside.

“Jack,” Mo-bot said enthusiastically. “I see you’ve been making use of the facilities.” She indicated my sling. “Come in. Sci has already lost his house to me. He’s such a bad gambler.”

“We’re not gambling. This is just for fun,” he replied.

“This is Officer Jean-Louis,” Mo-bot said, and the young cop shifted uncomfortably.

“I need to return to my post,” he said, shamefaced.

He sidled past us and shut the door on his way out.

“What happened?” Sci asked, gesturing to my injured arm.

“Roman Verde shot me,” I replied. “He’s not a problem anymore.”

There was a moment of silent reflection, which Mo-bot finally broke with a single word.

“Good.”

“I’m glad to see you up and around,” Justine told Sci.

“Yeah, I don’t do bed rest,” he replied. “And you can imagine what this one is like stuck in here.” He nodded at Mo-bot.

“Hey,” she protested. “I can’t help it if I feel fine and they want to drive me out of my mind with boredom by keeping me for another five days.”

“They reckon it will be at least a week for me,” Sci said. “Not quite the Riviera vacation I’d dreamed of.”

“But you’re alive,” I said, “and that’s better than any vacation.”

“True,” Sci replied.

“Do you need anything?” I asked.

“My computer,” Mo-bot replied instantly. “Just the baby one so I can hack this place and bring my discharge forward.”

I smiled and shook my head. “No chance. You’re not doing any work until the docs sign you off as fully recovered.”

“Killjoy,” she countered.

“I think we’re good,” Sci said. “You should get some rest. You look pretty pale.”

I nodded. “We’ll check on you tomorrow. And we’ll fill you in on exactly what happened with Carver and Roman Verde.”

Justine and I headed for the door.

“Jack,” Mo-bot said, and I paused. “Thanks for taking care of him.”

I glanced back at her. “Wasn’t going to end any other way,” I said before leaving.