Read Online F Paul Wilson - Novel 02 by Implant (v2.1) - Free Book Online Page A

She
watched Allard descend on an angle toward the waiting camera and reporter. His
movements were smooth and fluid during the first two flights, then he stopped
on the landing halfway down.
                 He
paused and rubbed his eyes, shook his head as if to clear it, then continued
down. At the top of the last flight he stopped again.
                 A
warning bell sounded in Gin's brain. Something was wrong.
                 Allard
leaned against the bronze handrail and pressed a hand over his eyes. Even from
here Gin could see that the hand was shaking.
                 He
lowered his hand and began to sway. He grasped the rail and turned around to
stare back up at the Capitol. His expression was frightened.
                 He
looked lost, confused, as if he didn't know where he was. He took a faltering
step to his left but wobbled backward instead.
                 God,
he's going to fall!
                 As
his arms windmilled for balance, his aides cried out and rushed down to him.
But Allard was already toppling. He managed to twist around but could not break
his fall. He hit the granite steps and began to roll.
                 Shouts
now from the TV crew as the reporter rushed toward the falling legislator. The
cameraman followed her, taping all the way. A couple of Capitol Police started
running from the other end of the steps.
                 Gin
was already on her way down as Congressman Allard landed in a heap at the base
of the steps and lay still, arms akimbo, his toupee skewed so that it hung over
his left ear. His aides, the TV crew, and the cops converged on him from three
directions.
                 Gin
reached the growing knot and forced her way in.
                 "I'm
a doctor," she said. "Let me through." The onlookers made way
for her and soon she was kneeling at Allard's side. He was on his back, his
face was a mess, blood everywhere. Gin dug her index and middle fingers into
the side of his throat, probing for a carotid. She found it, pulsing rapidly,
but strong and regular.
                 She
saw his chest moving with respirations, small bubbles of saliva fluttering at
the corner of his bloodied lips as air flowed in and out.
                 Pulse
and respiration okay. Good. But he did seem to be in shock.
                 "All
right," she announced to the onlookers. "His heart's beating and he's
breathing. No need for CPR. But nobody move him. He may have a spinal
injury." She looked around. "Is somebody calling an ambulance?"
                 One
of the Capitol cops pointed to his partner who was babbling into his radio. "We're
on it," he said.
                 Gin
returned her attention to Allard. She couldn't do a neurological evaluation
here, but if she had to bet she'd put her money on a stroke.
                 Maybe
he'd flipped an embolus to his brain.
                 She
glanced up and saw someone standing at the railing along the edge of the west
portico, looking down. She blinked. It was Duncan . She couldn't read his expression. He stood
there staring for a moment, then turned and disappeared from view.
                 Duncan ? she thought. Aren't you going to help?
     

5
     
    COFFEE
     
                GINA DIDN'T GET BACK TO THE
SURGICENTER until shortly before noon . She'd hovered by Congressman Allard's side
until the E.M.Ts arrived. She watched them bandage his face, strap him to a
back board, load him into their rig, and howl away toward G. W. Medical Center .
                 She
stopped back at Allard's office to let them know what had happened, and after
that she'd been at loose ends, wandering around the Capitol area, thinking,
wondering . . .
                 Duncan had acted so strange this morning, and he
hadn't shown the slightest concern for the fate of the congressman, who wasn't
just