Chapter Six Noah
Pushing an empty trolley in front of him, Noah exited the lift for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. It was early evening, and the flow of victims from the bombsite seemed to have subsided. Thankful that there were no more bodies to move to the morgue, Noah had been happy to keep busy with the multitude of other tasks that had arisen since the explosion.
The operating rooms had been in constant use all day, as the doctors worked on patients who had been brought in with various wounds. Though at the beginning of the day Noah had never been inside the operating suites before, they were fast becoming familiar.
On his eighth visit, he hurried in with a pile of fresh scrubs for the medics.
"Wait there," one of the techs barked at him. "Op's almost over. You can clear the area before the next patient comes in."
Noah didn't ask questions. Placing the scrubs on the half-empty shelf, he backed away and stood as unobtrusively as possible in the corner. He had never been asked to clean out an operating room before, and found himself thankful it was one of the tasks Rowan had run through in their brief training session.
First: collect the detritus left over from the previous operation. Bag it up to be taken to the incinerator. Next, fetch the sanitising machine (kept in the blue storage unit at the side of the room). Connect it to the power supply and place it centrally in the space. Ensure the room is empty before pressing the remote detonator. Put signage on the door to indicate the ten-minute re-entry period. Leave area, taking any rubbish away with you.
His palms were sweating. He didn't enjoy spending long periods of time around medical personnel. And the outer room of the operating suite was small. There were two techs present. He counted the legs, hoping the operation would finish soon so he could get the job done and leave.
At least the techs weren't paying him any attention. It meant he had fooled them. Drudges were infamously invisible. As the conversation between the techs continued, Noah knew he was playing his role well.
"Thank goodness Sanders managed to patch this one up," one tech exclaimed. "Not sure I could have taken another one down to the morgue."
"It's too much," the other replied. "Those bastards have got a lot to answer for."
Noah tensed, trying to tune out the conversation. It wasn't hard to work out who the bastards were. Obviously, the blame was already being placed at the Eremus door. He shouldn't have been surprised.
"Which ward is this one bound for?"
There was a pause as a set of fingernails clicked on the keyboard of a datadev. "C7. Needs to be watched carefully for signs of infection. And not–"
The woman broke off as the door from the outer hallway burst open. Noah worked hard not to flinch at the sudden entrance, knowing it would attract unwanted attention. But he needn't have worried. The techs' attention was firmly focused on the newcomer.
"Susie?" Shock pervaded the tech's voice. "What is it?"
"Need to see Sanders. Now."
Noah recognised the shoes at the same time as the voice. This was the medic who'd been assigned to look after Sophia. And Noah was willing to bet he knew exactly what shocking news she had to tell the doctor.
"She's in the middle of an operation! Can't it wait?"
"How much longer will she be?" Susie was panting. "It's pretty urgent."
The tech tapped at her keyboard again. "She's just closed the patient up. Won't be long now. Want to leave her a message?"
"I need to tell her in person."
The tech sighed loudly. "She should be done any minute now."
Susie tutted, but fell silent. Noah heard her shoes padding across the room. He suspected she was heading for the viewing window which would allow her to see what was happening inside the operating theatre. Holding his breath, he waited, hoping he'd at least get to witness Sanders' reaction.
"Look at that…" One of the techs had turned back to the datadev. "Another press conference."
The other crossed the room to peer at the screen. "What do you think Danforth's got to say this time?"
"Not sure." The tech tapped at the screen of the datadev. "Let's hope the news is more positive."
As the volume increased, Noah could hear a reporter's voice. Chancellor Danforth herself will be here in just a few moments. We're all eager to hear what she has to say about…"
The reporter was drowned out as the inner door banged open and a medic rolled a trolley into the space. The two techs jerked away from the datadev, hurrying to deal with the new arrival.
In the doorway of the operating room, another set of feet appeared.
"Know where this one's going?"
"Yes, Doctor Sanders."
"I've removed all the metal, flushed out the wound and sewn her up, but I want half-hourly checks on her vitals. No point in me saving her life for her to die of sepsis. Tell the lead medic to–" She broke off. "Susie? What are you–?"
"Need to speak to you. Now."
Sanders seemed flustered for a moment. "Half-hourly checks, okay?" She dismissed the techs. Crossing the room, she began washing her hands. When the door had swung shut, she turned to Susie. "This had better be important. I don't have long."
"It's important." Susie took a step forward. "She's gone."
"Who's gone?" Turning off the water, Sanders began to dry her hands.
"Sophia." Susie's voice trembled. "I think she's been tak–"
"Stop." Sanders cut Susie off. Moving across the room, she stopped a foot away from Noah. "I assume you're here to sanitise the operating room. Get on with it!"
Noah obeyed. Sanders waited until he was on the other side of the sound-proof glass before she spoke again. But as Noah donned a pair of gloves and moved around the room, collecting the abandoned swabs and bandages, he chanced a glance through the glass panel.
Sanders and Susie were paying him no attention. Instead, they were locked in an intense discussion, their faces horrified and their gestures wild. Lowering his head again, Noah hid a grin. Without Sophia, Danforth's experiment would fail. It had to.
No matter how badly the rest of the mission had gone, they'd succeeded in removing the chancellor's only successful subject.
He continued with the task, bagging up the rubbish and placing it at the door. Wincing at the twinge in his left arm as he picked up the heavy sanitising machine, he set it down at one side of the operating table and turned it on. Retreating to the door, he flipped over the Keep Clear for Ten Minutes sign. Then he pulled it open and stepped through, closing it before pressing the remote detonator.
A quick scan of the ground showed Noah that the outer room was empty. The techs had yet to return, and Sanders and Susie were gone, no doubt to report Sophia's disappearance.
The datadev lay on the counter, still open on the news channel. Noah chanced a couple of steps towards it, raising his gaze just high enough to view the screen. His eyes caught on a bright red tickertape running along the base: Chancellor Danforth speaks out.
Noah placed the bag on the counter, fiddling with the neck of it, so it looked like he was completing a legitimate task. As Danforth appeared on the screen, he tensed. Seated behind an official-looking desk, she was dressed smartly, her face its usual mask of calm.
"Citizens of Bellator," she began, "I know the past two days have been stressful for us all."
Noah peered at the screen. Danforth"s comfortable surroundings could not be located in Matriarch House, if the reports on the extent of the bomb's damage were to be believed. Where was she? Her ability to rebound and relocate was impressive.
"This press conference aims to allay your fears and reassure you that this kind of attack will not be tolerated by your government." She paused for a second, letting her words sink in. "As you know, the leader of the band of rebels which threatens our town is already in custody. And whilst the number of males in the forests surrounding Bellator appears to be larger than we perhaps suspected, I have guard teams combing the area right now to find and bring in any other stragglers."
Noah's heart sank. Additional guards in the woods would put Eremus under a great deal of strain. He said a prayer that his ma and Paulo were managing to keep everyone at home safe.
On the screen, Danforth was listing the additional security measures she had put in place to protect them all. "…bringing in a city-wide curfew, for your own protection of course; additional guard presence on the streets, day and night; the latest bomb-detection technology in all our public buildings." She stared directly into the camera. "I will personally make sure that Bellator remains a safe place for us to live."
Of course, she would spin the tragedy into something which made her look good. Noah clenched the rubbish bag too tightly, cursing Jacob's actions. How much damage had he wreaked with his ill-thought-out scheme?
The threat of rogue males in the woods had always made the Bellator citizens nervous. Today's explosion had terrified them. And Danforth, as always, would use their fear to control them. She would claim that everything she did to counteract the threat was for their own protection.
And they would believe it.
He cast his mind back to Faith's speech. To her magical words, which he knew some of the audience had listened to. Believed. How powerful was Danforth, that she could destroy that fragile seed of truth with a few well-chosen words? Noah hated her.
At the sound of footsteps in the hall, Noah lowered his head. He picked up the rubbish bag, ready to leave if necessary. But the footsteps passed by, ignoring the room altogether.
Relieved, Noah allowed his eyes to wander back to the screen. Danforth had moved away from the desk and was walking across the room. The camera followed her. On the far side, a chair came into view. She circled it as the camera zoomed in. There was a figure sitting in it. Noah's heart started thundering as he recognised his father.
Flynn's face was bruised and bloodied, his arms bound behind his back in what must have been tight bonds, given the tension in his body. The expression on his face was one of anguish, but realising he was on display, he raised his eyes to the level of the camera.
"…no doubt you recognise this face." Danforth stopped directly behind him. "This is the man who tried to weasel his way back in with the Bellator women yesterday. And while his words sounded kind and reasonable, let's not forget that his associates were working away in the background, planting and detonating a lethal bomb in what they knew was a vital city establishment."
Despite his injuries, Flynn was somehow managing to retain an expression of calm. It was his way of trying to convince the Bellator public that Danforth was wrong, Noah knew. But would any of the viewers look beyond his masculine appearance and his bloody face? He doubted it.
"Remember," Danforth continued, "the male of the species is built for violence and cruelty. No matter what pleasant fa?ade they hide behind, they are rotten to the core, and will turn on the female without warning if they are permitted even a modicum of power."
She walked around the front of the chair and took Flynn's chin in her hand. Forcing his gaze up to meet hers, she scowled and turned back to the camera.
"As you can see, this man has already been physically punished for his crimes. But the attempt to dupe us into submission while he murdered so many of our citizens is..." she paused, enjoying Flynn's discomfort, "unforgiveable."
"To that end," she released her hold on Flynn, permitting him to drop his gaze, "and because I am aware how many of you lost people in yesterday's attack, I am planning a public memorial ceremony this coming Thursday. It will be a time when we can come together as women to mourn our losses. As part of the healing process, to show you that justice has been done for all those women who died, this male will be present."
With a growing sense of dread, Noah stared at the screen. Thursday was less than a week away.
"He will be present," Danforth crowed, "so he can see the depth of our sorrow for the women he murdered. So he can witness the extent of our hatred of his gender, our determination to never again let men rule over us. And present, so we can all bear witness to what happens to men who seek to undermine and destroy us."
She was building to a grand finale. Returning to her position behind Flynn, Danforth took hold of his face, placing her hands on either side of his cheeks. She pulled his head up sharply. Noah winced at the pained expression which crossed his face at the movement. Making sure that he faced the camera, Danforth paused, her face a twisted mask of vengeance.
"The memorial will leave any other rebels with no doubt as to how we deal with threats and traitors to our city." She gave a definite nod before delivering the final blow. "It will show the people who is in control, who will come out on top. Every. Single. Time."
She paused once again, her eyes zeroing in on the viewer.
"Because it will end…" she let the sentence hang in the air for a moment, "…with a public execution."