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Authors: John Birmingham
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himself to Pradesh. ‘Doctor, you will find papers have been served to your administrators releasing Mr Hooper into our care. We require his consultation on a matter of national security.’
Pradesh started to object loudly. His arms flew around, and he bobbed up and down on his expensive-looking loafers as he argued with, or rather at, Captain Heath.
‘Well I’m afraid this will not stand, Captain Heath. It will not stand at all. This patient is under my care and will remain under my care.’
Nurse Fletcher was still invested in her issues with Pradesh, sniping at him as he railed at the iniquities of military high-handedness and fought a gallant rearguard action in defence of his Nobel.
‘I told you, Doctor,’ she said. ‘I told you there was something wrong with this patient.’
Meanwhile the intimidating Captain Heath absorbed the doctor’s attack and the general uproar with an utterly impassive face. He waited for Pradesh to take a breath, looking just like a dude with the patience of Buddha. No , Dave thought as his mind began to wander, scratch that. He looks like a dude with the patience of a statue of Buddha . When Pradesh paused momentarily, Heath seemed to come to life, as if he’d been in power-down. He strode into the room with a nod to Allen, and his physical presence seemed to subdue the doctor in a way no words were likely to. He limped, though, ever so slightly, and Dave’s eye was drawn to the subtle imbalance in his gait. He had to make himself look away, like when you saw someone, some hot-looking piece of ass, say, with a really ugly birthmark messing up half her face. You didn’t want to be caught staring. Nobody else was staring, however, or even seemed to have noticed the limp. Probably got his Purple Heart for whatever gave him the gimpy leg , Dave thought.
‘If you’ll get dressed, please, Mr Hooper,’ said Heath. ‘I have transport waiting for us downstairs. Time is short.’
He didn’t look at his watch but gave Dave the impression he could tell the time to within thirty seconds without it.
‘I must protest this,’ Pradesh began.
‘Of course you must,’ said Heath.
‘Doc, from what I’ve seen,’ Allen said, jerking his thumb at Dave, ‘we’re doing you a favour. You’ll thank us someday.’
‘Thank you, Chief Allen,’ Heath said in a tone that gave everyone to understand he didn’t think the CPO was helping. Dave wondered if the captain was the senior SEAL hereabouts and quickly hid a smirk at the sound of that phrase. Senior seal. Good one, Dave . He couldn’t shake the faint, buzzy, blurred feeling of being stoned. Not totally wasted. Just pleasantly high – say, half a joint rather than three bongs – finding everything funny and, of course . . . hungry. So hungry.
Heath produced a sheaf of paper and handed it to the doctor. ‘Complaint form,’ he explained. ‘We’ll need it in triplicate. Mr Hooper, sir. I note you are still not dressed.’
The warning tone in Heath’s voice transported Dave back to his childhood. To the sound of his mom’s voice warning him he’d be late for school. Again. And the fear of his father appearing from somewhere, smelling of hand-rolled cigarettes and breakfast bourbon, snarling threats and backhanding him hard enough to raise a bruise. Dave, feeling as though he’d done something wrong – you know, besides throwing that last navy guy halfway through a wall and totally smashing the crap out of a bunch of innocent hospital furniture – fumbled for an excuse until he realised he actually had one.
‘I got no clothes,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what happened to mine, and this hospital gown –’
‘Chief?’ Captain Heath snapped his fingers, and CPO Allen bent over and produced a sports bag, which he tossed onto the bed.
‘Brought it in while you were sleeping. Had to guess at your size. Are you an Eddie Bauer man?’
‘Not normally,’ Dave said.
‘Dude, you are today. The Original Outdoor
Pradesh started to object loudly. His arms flew around, and he bobbed up and down on his expensive-looking loafers as he argued with, or rather at, Captain Heath.
‘Well I’m afraid this will not stand, Captain Heath. It will not stand at all. This patient is under my care and will remain under my care.’
Nurse Fletcher was still invested in her issues with Pradesh, sniping at him as he railed at the iniquities of military high-handedness and fought a gallant rearguard action in defence of his Nobel.
‘I told you, Doctor,’ she said. ‘I told you there was something wrong with this patient.’
Meanwhile the intimidating Captain Heath absorbed the doctor’s attack and the general uproar with an utterly impassive face. He waited for Pradesh to take a breath, looking just like a dude with the patience of Buddha. No , Dave thought as his mind began to wander, scratch that. He looks like a dude with the patience of a statue of Buddha . When Pradesh paused momentarily, Heath seemed to come to life, as if he’d been in power-down. He strode into the room with a nod to Allen, and his physical presence seemed to subdue the doctor in a way no words were likely to. He limped, though, ever so slightly, and Dave’s eye was drawn to the subtle imbalance in his gait. He had to make himself look away, like when you saw someone, some hot-looking piece of ass, say, with a really ugly birthmark messing up half her face. You didn’t want to be caught staring. Nobody else was staring, however, or even seemed to have noticed the limp. Probably got his Purple Heart for whatever gave him the gimpy leg , Dave thought.
‘If you’ll get dressed, please, Mr Hooper,’ said Heath. ‘I have transport waiting for us downstairs. Time is short.’
He didn’t look at his watch but gave Dave the impression he could tell the time to within thirty seconds without it.
‘I must protest this,’ Pradesh began.
‘Of course you must,’ said Heath.
‘Doc, from what I’ve seen,’ Allen said, jerking his thumb at Dave, ‘we’re doing you a favour. You’ll thank us someday.’
‘Thank you, Chief Allen,’ Heath said in a tone that gave everyone to understand he didn’t think the CPO was helping. Dave wondered if the captain was the senior SEAL hereabouts and quickly hid a smirk at the sound of that phrase. Senior seal. Good one, Dave . He couldn’t shake the faint, buzzy, blurred feeling of being stoned. Not totally wasted. Just pleasantly high – say, half a joint rather than three bongs – finding everything funny and, of course . . . hungry. So hungry.
Heath produced a sheaf of paper and handed it to the doctor. ‘Complaint form,’ he explained. ‘We’ll need it in triplicate. Mr Hooper, sir. I note you are still not dressed.’
The warning tone in Heath’s voice transported Dave back to his childhood. To the sound of his mom’s voice warning him he’d be late for school. Again. And the fear of his father appearing from somewhere, smelling of hand-rolled cigarettes and breakfast bourbon, snarling threats and backhanding him hard enough to raise a bruise. Dave, feeling as though he’d done something wrong – you know, besides throwing that last navy guy halfway through a wall and totally smashing the crap out of a bunch of innocent hospital furniture – fumbled for an excuse until he realised he actually had one.
‘I got no clothes,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what happened to mine, and this hospital gown –’
‘Chief?’ Captain Heath snapped his fingers, and CPO Allen bent over and produced a sports bag, which he tossed onto the bed.
‘Brought it in while you were sleeping. Had to guess at your size. Are you an Eddie Bauer man?’
‘Not normally,’ Dave said.
‘Dude, you are today. The Original Outdoor
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