43. Adrian

"We need to do further testing. I"m sending you to get a scan. For now, I"m mostly worried about your ribs and your right hand." The doctor writes down the order for the x-ray before telling us he"ll be back later on.

Bianca had insisted on an ER visit when she"d seen me wincing a few times when moving, even though I"d said I was okay. Sure, there was some tenderness around my chest, but I"ve suffered worse in the past.

I"m now sitting on the hospital bed, pulling my shirt back on and avoiding Bianca"s gaze.

"I don"t think it"s just your ribs and your right hand. What about your upper back? You smashed directly into the wall with your back." She shakes her head.

"I"m sure the doctor knows what he"s doing."

"No," she starts adamantly. "I can"t have you broken. What if he misses something?"

"Bianca, calm down."

She"d nagged me all the way to the hospital and almost bullied the hospital staff into looking at me as soon as possible. By the way she was speaking, you"d think I was bleeding out. In fact, when we"d come through the emergency entrance, she"d immediately gone to the reception, and straight-faced she"d said, "My husband is broken. I need you to fix him. Now!" For a moment, I thought she"d pull a gun on them.

I tried to calm her down, but she"d been belligerent until a doctor had seen me.

I may have been annoyed at this type of behavior under any other circumstances, but coming from Bianca, it was a little too endearing to get mad at. Especially since I actually believe her concern is genuine.

It had all happened so fast. Marcel was taking out the contents of the safe; the next, I noticed a countdown on its display. When I"d realized the imminent danger, my only thought had been to get Bianca as far away from the explosion as possible. I"d only managed to grab her and make for the floor when we"d both been flung to the other end of the room.

And then there had been the shock of finding the envelope with the list of names. I hadn"t quite registered the pain as I"d been too caught up remembering that long-ago conversation my parents had had with Greg.

"Marcel is compiling information on every name on that list," Bianca relays this as she gets off the phone with Marcel. He"d refused to get a check-up, saying he was completely fine.

"I"m still not sure how he managed to avoid that blast altogether," she adds, and I have to agree. I didn"t see exactly what happened with him, but it"s impressive that he"s wholly unharmed.

A nurse comes by, and she tells me to follow her to get the scan. Bianca starts behind us too, but the nurse shakes her head.

"I"m sorry, ma"am, but you must wait here." Bianca"s eyes widen a little in disbelief, and I can almost tell she won"t accept this.

"It"s fine, B. Wait here," I try to tell her gingerly, afraid she might cause a scene. She scowls at me but reluctantly nods.

We go to a different floor, and they take x-rays of my ribs and my right hand. After I"m done, the nurse accompanies me back to my bed.

"That was fast," Bianca notes when I lie down again.

"They don"t usually take long," I say almost absentmindedly.

"I wouldn"t know." Bianca shrugs.

"You"ve never had broken bones?"

Given her profession, it would be almost abnormal to not encounter that sort of injury.

"Oh, I"ve had plenty." She waves her hand as if it"s nothing, and my head snaps in her direction. "But I"ve never gone to a hospital for them." I mean, I can empathize with that.

When I was fighting, we couldn"t go to the hospital because they would alert the police. But we still had a makeshift clinic special for the fighters. After all, if you lasted longer, you could make more money for them.

I"m curious how she got them treated, though. Maybe Vlad had doctors working for him?

"Then how did you deal with them?"

"Usually, they happened while on a mission, and Vlad or I would make do with whatever materials we had. I think I"ve been lucky so far, though. I"ve only popped my shoulder a few times, broken my left wrist a time or two… but it wasn"t something too bad."

"You mean you never had them looked at by a professional?"

"Well…" She thinks about it for a minute. "A surgeon once told me I shouldn"t worry about it?"

"A surgeon?" I stare at her in disbelief.

"Yeah." She tugs her shirt, so her shoulder is exposed, pointing at a white puckered scar. "Got shot once. It was pretty messy because the guy couldn"t find the bullet. He told me that compared to that, a dislocation isn"t that bad."

I"m… shocked.

She tells this in an emotionless voice, as if she"s just reciting some random facts. I"m even more shocked to realize that the many scars that she"d blamed on childhood accidents were not actual childhood accidents.

Remembering many of the marks on her body, I now realize how gullible I"d been. Or maybe, better said, blind.

I, better than anyone, should recognize a knife or bullet wound, given my experience both in the force and during my time under Andrew. But of course, my sweet, sheltered wife couldn"t have possibly gotten shot or stabbed.

"What about your other scars?" I find myself asking. "The ones you said were childhood accidents."

"Oh… let me think. I don"t have that many. I"m good at my job." She looks at me offended, as if I"m questioning her abilities. "Let"s see. The one on my thigh is from a bullet. There"s the big one on my back from a knife… oh, and there are also the smaller white ones on my chest and belly. Those are from some very shallow knife wounds. They scarred quite prettily, actually."

She"s about to take off her top to show me, but I stop her when I spot the doctor coming our way. She pouts for a second but doesn"t continue.

"Doctor." I nod at him, and his expression doesn"t look too good.

"Mr. Hastings. I fear I don"t have good news. I"ve looked at your scans. You do display some cracking in your ribs and wrist. But what I"m most concerned is the bone that hasn"t healed." He turns his tablet towards me and pulls up my chest x-rays. He points to some circled areas in blue.

"These are your new injuries. But these…" He now points towards some areas in red. "These are old injuries that never healed properly. Have you had any breathing problems? Pain in your chest when you try to inhale and expand your lungs?" I shake my head.

"Good… that"s good." He almost sounds relieved. "Given your extensive previous trauma, it"s imperative that you avoid anything that might cause further injury." He explains that badly healed ribs could affect my lungs and, worst-case scenario, restrict my breathing.

"He will do just that!" Bianca is quick to assuage the doctor, her hand on my back.

"Now, on to your wrist scans. These are better. I can still see a lot of remodeled bone, but it"s been set properly, so it shouldn"t trouble you. There"s only a hairline fracture on the distal side of your radius and should heal on its own. That"s why I"m going to recommend you wear a hand brace instead of a cast. Don"t put too much stress on it, though, because it will worsen."

I nod as the doctor describes everything I need to do. He ends up only prescribing me some pain medicine and advising me to be careful while my ribs are healing.

We thank the doctor, and after he leaves, Bianca crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow at me.

"And you were saying about my injuries…?"

"Why are you so satisfied with yourself?" I grumble.

"Because maybe at some point, you"ll realize we"re not so different, you and I." I stare at her for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts for a reply, when her phone goes off again. She puts one finger up before accepting the call and putting it on speaker.

"There you are, little goddess. Marcel told me you encountered some problems."

"Yeah, we"re about to leave the hospital," Bianca replies.

"Good. Come by, will you? I think we"ve found something with that list of yours."

"Fine. We"ll be there soon." She hangs up the phone, and I voice something that"s been bothering me for quite some time.

"Why does he always call you a little goddess?"

"It"s from my code name." She leans in to whisper in my ear, "Artemis. One day, he just called me that, and I went with it." She shrugs as if it doesn"t seem entirely too intimate.

"I don"t like it," I tell her, and she frowns at me.

"Why?"

"I just don"t," I complain and cross my arms.

"Fine, I"ll tell him not to call me that anymore." She takes her purse to go.

"Just like that? No objections?"

She doesn"t seem to understand what I"m trying to say as she replies nonchalantly, "Why would I object? You don"t like it, so I"ll tell him to stop."

"Never mind." I stand to go.

We get to Vlad"s place, and we find him and Marcel in front of the computer, focused on whatever is on the screen.

"There you are," Vlad says without looking up. "Come see this." We both go around the desk, and Vlad points towards the document he"s pulled up.

"So, there are a total of eighteen names on the list. We"ve managed to track all of them." He shows us pictures of the two sheets of paper containing the names, with six of those names being crossed out.

"What did you find out?" I ask, hoping they found something.

"All of those twelve names we can make out were important men in the public functions or heads of businesses twenty years ago."

"Were?"

"Some are dead now, and most have retired already. I"ve also talked to my IT guy to try to make out the crossed-out names."

"This isn"t much," Bianca notes, but Vlad quickly puts up his hand to stop her.

"Not finished, please. The working theory is that these people were involved with Jimenez at one point. Marcel and I started looking at each person"s finances. If they invested with Jimenez, there must be some type of evidence, right? We didn"t manage to go through all, obviously, but the three people we did manage to investigate gave us something."

"Something?" I ask, and Vlad pulls up financial statements next.

"We noticed the three have something in common. Around twenty years ago, they started making regular yearly payments to an offshore account." He points to the amount, and it"s staggering. Each person would wire two hundred and fifty thousand dollars each.

"Shit! Blackmail?" Both Vlad and Marcel nod.

"And the offshore account?"

"Still working on that. But if my theory is right… and it probably is." Vlad starts in his usual self-assured manner. "We"re going to find similar payments made by the rest of the people on that list."

"What would Martin be doing with this? Insurance?" I wonder aloud. It doesn"t make sense.

"No… not insurance," Bianca finally speaks, and her insight brings a whole different angle to the problem. "My father was never poor, strictly speaking, but he went through a rough patch when I was a child. I remember because that was around the time he started being meaner than usual, and he would complain a lot about money. Can you check Martin"s accounts from around that time?"

"You really think he was the one who blackmailed these people?" The names on the list belong to politicians… people in power. How could Martin…

Shit.

I remember Martin"s widespread connections, and how everyone seemed so subservient to him. Retrospectively, maybe he did have something on them?

"I only have access to public information now, but…" Vlad is focused on the screen, trying to access some data. "B"s right. There was a rough patch around twenty-two years ago. He was losing more money than he was making. He was almost contemplating insolvency at that point." He shows us some financial statements that show millions in debt. "Then, he was suddenly on his feet again." He scrolls through more statements, and the date on the one that shows him on plus is… eighteen years ago.

"The timeline would match," Bianca states. "So, let"s say that Martin made some bad investments, was losing money, and needed urgent capital. He got that list with people who were clearly involved in illegal things, and he blackmailed them. We can account for that four-year lag in profits because his debts were just too big to be wiped clean immediately."

"That would be the logical conclusion," Vlad agrees. "Although, I still want to run the rest of the names to confirm this. "

"I"m curious about the other six crossed names." Marcel stands to pace around the room. "And is Jimenez involved?"

"I think there is one way to find out." Bianca"s face suddenly lights up, and I sigh. I"m learning her facial cues, and this can"t be good. "We interrogate some of the people on the list. They should be able to give us info on Martin and Jimenez."

"That"s a great idea, little goddess!" Vlad exclaims, rubbing his hands together in excitement. There"s a one-second pause before Bianca gives him a blank look.

"You can"t call me a little goddess anymore. He doesn"t like it." She raises her hand and points her finger at me—way to throw me under the bus, B.

Vlad immediately chuckles.

"Are you jealous, Hastings?" he coos at me, and I close my eyes to maintain my calm.

"Aww, don"t worry." He pats my back in a mocking gesture. "I"ve seen her naked, and she doesn"t do anything for me."

The moment the words are out of his mouth, the hand now sporting a brace shoots out and wraps itself around Vlad"s throat, almost lifting him from his chair.

His expression is still amused when he says, "No offense, B." Then, he turns his gaze from her to me, and in a deadly voice, he utters, "Take your hand off me, Hastings, or I won"t play nice."

Before I can say anything, Bianca intervenes.

"Don"t you dare, Vlad! He just came back from the doctor. Adrian, let him go!" She taps her foot and waits expectantly. I reluctantly let go, and Vlad is back in his seat.

"Now, make up!" Her command seems to have the same effect on Vlad as it has on me. I give him a side-eye and reluctantly mumble something.

"Great. Now that we"re done with the family drama, we can focus on Bianca"s suggestion." Marcel intervenes, barely able to hide his laughter.

"Yes, take your husband with you and go do your thing." Vlad massages his neck as if I"d applied Herculean force on it.

"Nope. Can"t do that. He just came back from the doctor!" Bianca reiterates, almost outraged that Vlad would suggest such a thing.

"Well, I can"t go. Marcel can"t go. So, either you go alone or take him." He nudges his head in my direction.

I want to reply, but Bianca once again speaks, "Why can"t Marcel?"

"He"s not made for these things…"

"I guess you"re right." She frowns at the notion before adding, "Then, I"ll go alone."

"You"re not going alone," I finally say.

"No, no, you"re not coming," she scoffs at me as if it"s the most absurd thing.

"Yes, I am. If I"m not going with you, then I"ll go alone."

"Alone?" Her eyes widen at the possibility, and I realize I know exactly how to get her.

"Yes. You know, it"s probably going to put a strain on my arm and my ribs… but I"m sure I can do it alone too."

"No! You"re coming with me. I"ll take care of you."

"Fine," I reply, trying to seem indifferent but inside, I"m smirking.

I think I"m getting the hang of how this Bianca operates. And it"s kind of fun to push her buttons.

"Good one, Hastings!" Both Marcel and Vlad nod at me while Bianca looks a little confused. She doesn"t even know what she"s just given me.

"Now… who are we paying a visit to?"

"You"re welcome to choose from here." He gives us an updated list of their professions before looking at his phone and adding, "My IT guy just confirmed that the rest have outgoing payments to the same offshore account too. Once we got the pattern, it was fairly easy for him to check for the same thing."

"Let"s see. We want someone willing to talk," B says as she scans the new list and settles on a name. "Former Senator Wolfe. I remember him. He used to come to our house all the time when I was younger."

"Yeah, I know him as well…" I add drily. He was an old man who had to include Jesus in every single conversation. We"d had a few disputes under the guise of debates over the years. He retired some eight or nine years ago, last I remember.

"Have your IT guy get all information on Wolfe, and then we"ll act." Bianca nods towards Vlad.

It seems that our visit to Atlantic City will have to be delayed… again.