Night Watch (Kendra Michaels #4)(115)

“Yes, I would.”

“It was the only thing I could—”

“No, it was what you chose.” He inclined his head. “And I have no intention of discussing it with you when you’re lying in that hospital bed. When I attack, I prefer an opponent to be on their feet.”

“So you can knock them down?”

“It has a certain appeal at the moment.” He turned to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Kendra.”

“Yes.” But she had to say one more thing. “You saved both me and Waldridge today. I haven’t said thank you.”

“No, you haven’t. You’re welcome.” He smiled recklessly. “But I didn’t give a damn about Waldridge at the time. I still don’t. If I’d had to go in another direction, Waldridge would have just been collateral damage.”

She felt a ripple of shock. “Charles Waldridge should never be considered collateral damage.”

“Maybe not to you. I’m having a few problems with him. Good night, Kendra.” He went out the door.

She lay there, only vaguely aware of the nurse dimming the lights, putting the burner phone her mother had brought on the nightstand, and leaving the room.

Lynch’s words had been disturbing and so had been the leashed emotion she had sensed since she had left the ER. It had probably been present since he’d brought her from the desert, but she’d been too wired and profoundly relieved to notice.

And now she wasn’t in any shape to probe the mental and psychological mysteries of Adam Lynch. The pain medication they’d given her was taking effect, and she was having trouble keeping her eyes open. She’d have to deal with Lynch in the morning …


2:35 A.M.

Her phone was ringing, she realized drowsily. The hospital room was still dark, but she could see her phone screen flickering on the bedside table. Who the hell would be calling her at the hospital in the middle of the night?

Something must be wrong.

She reached for the phone. No ID. Maybe a wrong number? But she couldn’t take a chance of not answering after what she’d just gone through.

“Kendra Michaels.”

“You sound half-asleep,” Charles Waldridge said. “And so you should be. Yes, it really is two thirty in the morning. Just another bit of blame to heap upon my head, Kendra.”

She was suddenly wide-awake. “Why on Earth are you calling me at this hour, Charles? Are you all right?”

“Yes and no.” He paused. “But I had Griffin call and check on you, and he said you were doing splendidly. I asked him to get your burner number so that I could check on you later myself. How is that wound?”

“Practically nothing. Why is it yes and no?”

“The physical checkup I went through showed that I was in the pink of health considering what I went through for the past week. Everyone was particularly happy that my brain functions were positively normal.”

“That’s wonderful.” She paused. “What’s the no?”

“The fact that I’m disturbing your sleep and calling you at two thirty in the morning.” He added soberly, “Because I may not be able to talk to you again for a long time.”

She stiffened. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’ve spent the last six hours being debriefed on Night Watch by Griffin and his boss, John Howell, the director, plus several members of congressional committees who are very interested in the progress I’ve made. It seems I’m an asset who can increase their political clout because I can give their voters a gift they can’t get anywhere else. They’ve scheduled another round of talks with more committee heads this afternoon.”

“And that means you may have to go to Washington or some university think tank?”

“That means I’ll have to go on the run,” he said quietly.

“What?”

“I know how it works, Kendra. It starts off with my being treated as if I walk on water and everyone kowtowing. Then there’s a subtle change as the program is infiltrated by the money and power brokers. I watched it with Night Watch.”

“It doesn’t have to be like that. I know Griffin is honest and wouldn’t intentionally set you up with anyone who wouldn’t want the best result from Night Watch.”

“Not intentionally,” he repeated. “But now the word is out about what I’m doing and how successful it’s proving to be. I tried to play it down, but the investigation is ongoing, and it’s attracting too much attention. It’s going to be a political football game, with me as the football.” He paused. “And one of the senators who was sitting at that table was Robert Lockart. I’d met him before he was elected to Congress. He’s an industrialist Dyle brought on board with your stem-cell procedure years ago. He was particularly interested in the commercial possibilities of it. He didn’t know anything about the work I’d done lately on Night Watch, but he was exceptionally interested today. To quote Mr. Shakespeare, he has a lean and hungry look.”

“But the government could protect you.”

“Could it? Look at the political system. The U.S. government and economy is just as bureaucratic and self-serving as Great Britain’s. Perhaps more. I can’t risk letting anyone else control my work. The project is nearly finished, and I won’t let it be hijacked, as Dyle was trying to do. The minute I sat down for that debriefing and watched the eagerness light up those faces, I knew what I was going to have to do.”