Trojan Horse

The idling car was the only sound Steven could hear as he sat in the dark waiting. He hadn’t had much time to formulate a plan and really hoped it would work. He opted out of calling Scotland Yard, he didn’t want them getting in the way and fucking it up. Not when Sam’s life was on the line. Plus, Steven had experience with thugs like this before. He contended with the darkest underbelly of society in his MI6 days.

He understood the power move of making him wait in an unlit parking lot. They were trying to get him into his head, over think the situation, get freaked out that someone could pop out at any moment. Steven was focused, but not on the demons in the shadows. He was focused on making the trade and getting Sam out of here. She should've never been involved with this to begin with.

Headlights turned into the lot and headed straight for him. Here we go, he thought.

Steven stepped out of his car as the headlights came to a stop about twenty yards in front of him. A black Mercedes cargo van with no windows and no identifying decals. He couldn’t see the plate, but he knew they were probably stolen anyway.

“You have Night Owl?” said a gravelly voice that never sang in a boys’ choir.

“Where’s Sam?”

“She close. Hand over Night Owl and you’ll find out.”

Steven walked over and handed the back lit silhouetted face a jump drive. As he turned and headed back toward the van Steven glimpsed a poorly healed gagged scar on his forehead.

“Where’s Sam?”

The bald tower of a man didn’t say anything as he got in the passenger side door and the van accelerated straight for him. Steven managed to jump out of the way in time. The van wheels squealed as it did an about face and headed toward Steven again. On the ground Steven rolled toward his car to use as a shield. The sliding side door opened as they tossed a body out. The body rolled a few times before coming to a stop and not moving. Steven ran over to find Sam unconscious, beaten to a pulp and bloody as hell. He scooped her up and laid her on his back seat. He needed to get her out of here in case their new friends decided to come back and finish the job.

Speeding out of the parking lot he knew he needed help. He was equipped with some medical training, he could stitch himself up, but not to the extent Sam would need.

“Yes,” came the answer on the other end of the phone.

“Is the doctor in?” Steven asked.

“Yes.”

“Coming in hot.”

Steven pulled up to an unassuming country cottage with well-manicured gardens. It looked like he was here to visit his grandmother. The oversized front door swung open as Steven stepped on to the stoop. He laid Sam’s motionless body on the gurney just inside the door. Two burly men, one pushing the gurney the other pulling while a third walked alongside taking vitals and assessing the situation.

Filled with adrenaline, Steven paced the tiny tearoom. Every time he looked at the amount of blood on his hands and clothes, he picked up pace. He didn’t know if she’d been shot, where did all this blood come from?

A tapping on his shoulder jostled Steven awake.

“Steve. Steve wake up.” The sun was streaming in through the sliding sash windows.

“How is she? How is Sam?” Steven jumped to his feet ignoring the stiffness in his neck and shoulders from sleeping in a Windsor armchair.

“It’s going to be wait and see at this point,” said the doctor covered in more of Sam’s blood. “I’ve patched her up the best I can but she’s been through a lot. It looks like she’s been tortured for days. She had some internal bleeds. A ruptured spleen. She has slices across her back. They aren’t deep, but you can bet they were painful. Her right arm is broken. The most concerning injury is her brain is swollen from the beating. We don’t know when and if she’ll wake up. If she does, we don’t know what state she’ll be in. We will observe her for 48 hours then prep her for transport.”

Steven sank back down on the chair, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands gripping his hair as he hung his head. He knew the rules, the doctor doesn’t do long term. He has quick turnaround to be available for the next emergency. Where was he going to take Sam? He needed to find someplace safe because when their Night Owl friends find out what’s on that drive, they aren’t going to be happy. While Night Owl was on the jump drive after ten minutes a trojan horse is set to target the algorithm and destroy any trace of it. Everyone knows you don’t put an unfamiliar jump drive in your system. You never know what’s lurking.

After a week, Steven had his routine down well. He would check on Sam first thing in the morning. They had coffee together and he’d read her the latest news and financial projections. The nurse would come in to check on her and to get her cleaned up for the day. That’s when Steven would excuse himself to give them some privacy. He’d retire to his den, a.k.a. the dining room table and get some work done. The physical therapist would come around noon to move her body and keep her muscles from atrophying and joints from stiffening.

In the evening he’d go in and chat about his day. What might be going on at the office without him there, really just making up absurd gossip wanting Sam to smile. The village doctor would visit and give her a checkup right before bed. Then he’d read Jane Eyre to her till his eyes couldn’t make out the words any longer. Steven would make his way over to the couch along the outside wall of the bedroom and lay down for the night. He didn’t want her to be alone. When she wakes up she’s not going to know where she is. He wanted to be her little bit of familiar.

The next morning, with his coffee in hand, Steven couldn’t help but notice how good she was looking. The swelling was gone around her right eye and the bruises were starting to fade. He brushes a stray strand of hair from her forehead. She looked so peaceful. He sat down and started reading the news when he thought he saw her hand twitch. He stared at her hand waiting to see if it was just his imagination and it happened again. He jumped out of the chair and grabbed her hand.

“Cynthia. Cynthia get in here,” he yelled in excitement. What does this mean? The nurse came running into the room. The look of focused concern on her face. “She moved her hand.”

The nurse started taking vitals and checking her over. “Go call the doctor.” Steven stood there staring at Sam for a minute. Cynthia pushed him out of the way. “Call the doctor,” she said more emphatically.

Steven was on the phone with the doctor when Sam’s eyes fluttered open like she was coming out of a deep sleep. Standing at the foot of the bed watching her eyes adjusting to the light. The nurse started talking to her assessing if she understood what was going on. Sam stared at Cynthia’s face confused. Her forehead furrowed trying to make sense of the situation.

“Who are you?” she asked the nurse. “What are you doing in my room?”

Cynthia slowed down what she was saying, “You were in an accident. I’m here to take care of you. My name is Cynthia. The doctor will be here shortly.”

Sam started looking around the room, “Where am I? This isn’t a hospital.” Cynthia kept talking but it didn’t look like Sam was comprehending what she was saying. Sam would ask a question after Cynthia already gave her the answer. She caught sight of Steven at the foot of the bed. “Are you the doctor?”