Greg Bear by Quantico

Author:Quantico
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-11-27T04:36:01+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Seattle, Harborview Medical Center

SAC John Keller joined William in Griff's hospital room late in the evening. Keller turned a metal hospital

chair around and sat on it with his long legs jutting out like a crane fly's. In his late fifties, thin, with

sculpted Appalachian features and large gray eyes, he looked like a particularly conservative accountant

or an undertaker and more likely to be William Griffin's father than the man in the hospital bed, behind the

plastic curtains, even in his better days.

They said very little for the first few minutes of Keller's visit. Griff hadn't moved except for the rise and

jerky fall of his chest. “They're going to transfer him to Swedish in a week, I hear,” Keller said.

"That's what they tell me, sir."

"He's going to make it. He's tough. I've worked with a lot of fine agents and I have never known anyone

tougher. We cannot afford to lose agents like Erwin Griffin."

Keller was thinking out loud. Agents had come in and out, observing Griff in his bed and all of them

without exception had begun to think out loud as if at confession.

Keller glanced over his shoulder at William. “I hear you spend an hour here each day."

"I'm waiting for OPR to return me to duty,” William said.

"Right.” Keller smiled. “Rose gave you one hell of a spirited defense. Told me she'd be dead if you hadn't

turned arsonist."

"I'm not allowed to speak about the matter, sir."

"It was certainly unorthodox."

"Yes, sir."

Keller pushed to his feet and brushed off his midnight-blue pants. William stepped aside in the small

space as Keller strode for the door. Keller paused, turned, and held out his hand. “Thanks."

"Sir?” William shook with him.

"We need fine agents. Hate to lose any.” Reaching into his jacket, smiling like a bandit, Keller pulled out

a length of white toilet paper, about a yard's worth, hung it around William's neck, and made a quick sign

of the cross. “May this wipe away your sins."

Pleased with himself, Keller closed the door behind him.

* * * *

William sat in the metal hospital chair the same way Keller had and leaned his chin on the back like a

puppy.

Griff's face, in the shadow of a steel cage studded with screws, was a map of sutures held together by

shining glue and plastic strips. His nose and cheek bones had been pulled back into place from where the

bomb suit's face-plate had squashed them. Shims of sterile cartilage interlaced with stem cells from his

own marrow had been inserted between the bones. They made little bumps under the sutures. Nose

cartilage had been removed so Griff's face was still flat, and he would need more reconstructive surgery

later. His mouth was full of so much plastic tubing that he couldn't speak even had he been conscious.

"Come on, Griff,” William said. “I need some advice right about now."

Griff opened his eyes. The eyes surveyed the ceiling, but did not turn either left or right. They closed.

Still no Griff. Just the body fighting along as best it could, waiting for its owner to return. Waiting for the

commanding presence it had been used to for so many years.

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