In which Arabella learns this undercover agent shite is incredibly stressful.
Arabella…
“Dinnae leave, aye?” I whisper, squeezing my husband’s cousin’s hand until my knuckles are white.
“Not even for a moment,” Mason promises. I can feel the steady beat of his pulse under my fingertips. This terrifying episode isn’t even raising his blood pressure! He’s wearing horn-rimmed glasses that make him look a wee bit like Clark Kent.
The medical clinic situated within the ship could rival the most prestigious surgical floor in any hospital in the world. Everything is new and gleaming and perfect. Peeking into the surgical suite next to this room makes me think there’s advanced technology here that hasn’t made its way into the mainstream medical world yet.
Lighting is muted, with light flowered wallpaper instead of glaring clinical white walls. There’s elegant artwork and soft music being piped through a speaker in the wall. I’m going to have to ask them to turn that off, it’ll impact my ability to hear the doctor’s questions.
I change into a white silk gown in the ensuite bathroom while Mason scrolls through his phone with his feet resting on the bed, looking completely comfortable with the situation. Folding my bra, I hide it under my clothes. I don’t know why, it’s not like Mason or the doctor haven’t ever seen a bra before, but it felt nyaff just leaving it there on top of my Hermes dress.
“Darling,” Mason says, “why don’t you put in your earbuds? They’ll help you relax.”
“Of course, thank you sweetheart.” Putting them in my ears, I hear the subtle click before Xenia speaks softly.
“You both have a flash drive. You’re looking for a specific double USB port, it can be in any of the devices around you, look for something that’s plugged and wired into at least one other device. Once you find it, plug in the flash drive. Your job is to keep the doctor busy while it downloads the data. Once I’ve got it, I can upload a virus. Keep your cool, Arabella. Can you do that?”
“Mm-hmm…” I hum idly, swaying slightly like I’m listening to some elegant, classical piece.
“You’ve got this. Be careful of your movements, Mason’s glasses are recording everything, but I can’t disable the cameras in the room without getting into the system. There’s one over the bed and another in the corner facing the door. Make sure your back is to them if you can get the flash drive plugged in.”
“Buon pomeriggio,Mrs. Bianchi, may I call you Guila?” The doctor is unsettling; she’s a round wee woman with silver hair and a sweet face that should belong to a grandmother, baking cookies for the bairns in the neighborhood.
Instead, she’s planning to cut into some innocent person. Lots of them, and steal their organs along with their life.
“Of course,” I force a smile. “Apologies, doctor. I’m a little nervous.”
“No need to be,” she smiles warmly, patting my hand. Over her shoulder, I see Mason strolling by the medical monitors in the corner. “Please, call me Alice.”
She launches into a detailed review of the renal failure that the real Guila is dealing with, and I’m feeling mighty grateful for Mason’s insistence of going over and over our backstories.
“Dr. Williams, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we had a question about your next patient?” A pretty blonde nurse smiles at us apologetically and I could kiss her.
“Excuse me, I’ll just be a moment,” Alice says, giving me a gentle pat on the arm that makes my flesh crawl. I reach out to Mason, smiling prettily as he takes my hand and leans in, pretending to kiss my cheek.
“Did ye find it?” I whisper.
“One of them. I had trouble getting the flash drive in, so we might have a problem.”
“What about the surgical suite? Any of the equipment there should have exactly what we need.”
He sits on the bed with me, patting my back as we eye the open door. One of the operating rooms is right across the hall, and it’s empty. “It’s risky, Arabella.”
“Aye, but I’m a spoiled wee princess, remember? If they catch us, I’ll carry on and make a fuss about how worried I am.”
I’d slipped my flash drive in the pocket of my robe when I’d changed, and my sweaty fingers curl around it as we walk out the door and into the OR. Mason’s leaning against the door, arms folded and keeping an eye on the hallway as I tiptoe around.
There.
A large heart-lung machine, to the left of the door. I pretend to look at the display as I push the flash drive into the port. Sweet Mother Mary and all the Saints, my heart is ready to pound out of my chest. There’s a discreet red light on the flash drive; I canna pull it out until it turns green.
Mason wiggles three fingers.
Thirty seconds.
Feck, I wish I hadn’t taken out my earbuds! Xenia could give me a countdown, or something. Angling my body, I block the view of the machine from the cameras while looking around the room, wide-eyed like I’m taking it all in. The blindingly sterile equipment and the surgical table is making my stomach churn. Straps dangle along the sides of the bed. It all comes back, how it felt to be immobilized in that scanner at Anselm’s compound. Helpless. Terrified.
