The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2604 by Angharad Copyright© 2015 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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The next morning, I awoke feeling exhausted. Simon was still asleep so I went and made myself some tea. Julie and Danni came to see how things were and helped themselves to a cuppa. Basically, I didn’t know how things were. No one seemed to know what drug Simon had been given and it didn’t look as if anyone cared that much. I finished my tea and went to check on Si.

He woke when I stroked his cheek. “Hiya,” he said, “I love you.” He closed his eyes and stopped breathing. For two or three seconds I was stunned, then I screamed. Julie was first in.

“What’s happened?”

“He’s dead.”

“Call an ambulance,” she shouted and I heard someone rushing from the room. Moments later Stella arrived, Julie took me away while Stella did her nurse bit.

“Get him on the floor,” she yelled and we all helped to do so. “You,” stop crying and start your magic—NOW—Cathy.”

The shock lifted for a moment and I began to draw down the energy. Stella was pounding on his chest doing CPR. I put my hands on his chest just below his shoulders and the blue light blasted into him making Stell recoil. “Jesus, that was like a defibrillator. Warn me next time.”

She checked for pulse, there wasn’t one. I heard sirens down below. I hit him again with the energy, this time directly over his heart. This time his eyes moved, Stella checked we had a pulse, it was weak but he was breathing. His colour wasn’t very good but the blueness around his lips was slightly better. I was aware the paramedics had arrived and while one of them put an ECG on him the other asked for a history. I explained about his kidnap and that he’d been given some sort of drug but no one seemed to know what it was. They decided he was stabilised enough to be taken to hospital and with me dressing rapidly, we went off in the ambulance to A&E at the QA.

“What are you doing here?” asked a familiar voice. It was Ken Nicholls and I spoke to him while some of the physicians did tests on my darling husband.

“He actually arrested?”

“Yeah, Stella started doing CPR, I was doing my impression of the Wailing Wall. She told me to do something and I came out of my stupor and thankfully the blue stuff started him again.

“Usually when you do that, five minutes later they pick up their bed and walk.”

“Not if they actually died they don’t.”

“A mere technicality. Why are we treating him when you could sort him quicker yourself?”

“I don’t think I could. The energy allowed me to keep him alive, there must be a reason why he needs to see conventional doctors.”

“He had some sort of sedative last night?”

“Yeah, but that was hours ago—it couldn’t have caused it, the arrest, I mean?”

“I’m not a pharmacologist, Cathy, but I suspect we’ll be talking to one before too long. I’ll find someone to get you a cuppa.” He wandered off and ten minutes later a young woman arrived with a tray of tea and some custard creams. I’d had no breakfast so they were very welcome.

An hour later he was sent up to the cardiology ward and I was allowed to see him for a few minutes. At this point Julie arrived with a travel bag that she and Stella had packed for him for the hotel—spare pyjamas, toiletries and his toothbrush. He woke enough to smile at Julie and then me before he closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

The cardiologist, Dr Johnson--not that one he was a lexicographer—took us into the office on the ward. “You said he had some sort of drug administered by whoever abducted him and an emergency doctor administered a sedative last night?”

“You don’t have the syringe, do you?”

“No, he shoved into his own sharps box. Is there something wrong?” He grimaced momentarily. “There is isn’t there?”

“I think the cause of his problem was the injection last night. I’m waiting for the blood tests to come back but I suspect he was given some sort of slow acting poison.”

“By a doctor?” I gasped, “Deliberately?” my tummy churned and I felt sick.

“Did you know him?”

“No, the hotel organised it.”

“You didn’t hear that a doctor and his driver were found trussed up in the boot of their car earlier this morning?”

“No, I was a bit preoccupied...”

“Of course. The man who attended you was an assassin. How your husband is still alive completely baffles me. Half his heart is damaged yet it’s still pumping enough blood to keep his brain and kidneys going—amazing. Usually, by this stage we’ve got them piped into everything—amazing.”

“We Scots are a hardy lot, ye know,” I said with a hint of an accent.

“You must be. He’s still quite poorly but stable, so there’s nothing you can do here. If there’s any change we’ll let you know. Go home Mrs Cameron and get some rest, he’s going to need you later on.”

“That doctor was a murderer, the one who came to the hotel?”

“Seems like it.”

“The bastards—how did they know we’d send for one?”

“They must have hacked into the emergency doctor system, phones or computer possibly both.”

Why didn’t he just give him cyanide or something like that?”

“It would have alerted us to what was going on and he might have been caught. No these people are too sophisticated for that sort of stuff.”

“Shit, that is scary—we could be killed at any time?”

“Julie, you know what’s happening so I can’t lie to you, yes, we’re at risk all the time until this is over.”

“How will we know it’s over—apart from waking up dead, that is?”

“I don’t know, I presume if they manage to kill Henry or Simon they’ll put the bank in such disarray they might sell out.”

“Never.”

“What?” I was bemused by her defiance.

“Our bank is two hundred years old so some bloody Cossack tossers aren’t going to bring it down.”

“If Henry or Si are killed, who’s going to run it?”

“You will, you’re a director and a Cameron—you’ll do it.”

“Don’t be silly, darling, I’m a teacher not a banker.”

“Okay, okay—look I’ll give you hand on Sundays, all right?”

At that I laughed until my sides hurt and hoped Julie meant it as a joke.