The SPECTRE Of The VATICAN ©

Chapter 74 - The Hospital.

Time: Present Day
Location: Vatican City

Jihad Yazzi poked his head up from behind the conference table. He was a little embarrassed to see he was the last to emerge from cover. Even the girl, the star child or whatever they called her was already on the phone calling an ambulance. The police would soon follow. He had to escape. After all there was a Million Euro price on his head - Dead or Alive. He preferred to be alive and free.

He said to Graz, "Your Anton is right. You are crazy, ghosts. I want no part of ghosts. Keep your money. Blow up your own fucking planes. ISLA is out. I am out. Get me out of here!" he said to his personal body guard who had joined the party from the outside waiting room through the broken door.

Sirens wailed outside. Yazzi and his henchman scurried out like rats deserting a sinking ship.

Graz tried valiantly to stop the bleeding. It was forming a pool around Peter's head contrasting his ever whitening face. He was dying, the saviour of the Church was dying! This was not how this was supposed to end. "Fucking women!" Graz swore to himself.

Anita glared at him as she put down the phone. "I had to tell them what happened. They are calling the police. I better go too. We had all better go before the police get here. We don't have your precious immunity."

"Get out then, mignotta you freak! Leave us! Stay with us Petros. Stay for God's sake! Stay!

Graz thought he had stopped the bleeding somewhat. Peter was still breathing, but his breath was shallow and erratic.

The paramedics arrived and Carter was transported back in time to another time and place where he was again looking over the shoulder of a paramedic as he worked on a body on the floor. This time it wasn't him he saw but his father. He wished his father would hurry up and die so he could confront him as he watched his movie. He would show him the damage he had caused. He would see how he had participated in his own son's murder. Had robbed him of happiness with Layla just as he had been robbed of his chance for happiness with Amelia. Carter now felt uneasy as he realised just how like his father he really was.

Had it been him that assassinated Enrico and Andre or Peter? It seemed looking back to be a joint effort. Peter didn't flinch, didn't resist him, except for fucking up the safety catch. We might have been able to kill them all, including that bastard Jihad Yazzi. How would the Vatican have explained that? Why they had a notorious terrorist leader in their conference room and dead to boot. I would have liked to see the After Dark crew run with that story! I could even help them out with some little known facts and background.

The paramedics were lifting Peter onto a stretcher for transport to hospital.

"Where are you taking him?" Graz asked.

"He's lost a lot of blood and his heart is damaged. We have to go to the closest if we are going to save him. We'll take him to Santo Spirito," the paramedic was answering as they wheeled him out.

Carter followed them out. He passed through the side of the ambulance and was already waiting inside when they flung the rear doors open and put Peter in the back. One paramedic stayed with Peter, setting up catdio monotoring while the other raced onto the drivers seat and put the siren and lights on and floored the accelerator as the ambulance took off wheels squealing across St Peter's square, scattering tourists to both sides.

Jihad Yazzi watched with distain as he made his way to the heliport.

At least the bastards aren't flying him out, he thought to himself relieved. We should be able to get out undetected now. I should have known better than to do business with fucking Christians, especially priests. You can't trust them."

The paramedics were speaking to each other in Italian but Carter was able to guess what the conversation was about, especially when the ambulance stopped in the entrance driveway to Ospedale Santo Spirito.

The paramedic started giving Peter CPR. Suddenly Peter's spirit appeared opposite Carter. He looked around bewildered. He shielded his face. His cord was pulsing between Brown and fire Red. Carter looked down at his own cord and was surprised to see how calm it was, just purring a pretty Blue colour. He could sense Peter's panicked state. The paramedic reached for the defib. Peter's cord was still connected to his body. He was floating a few feet above it. "Clear" Peter's body convulsed then went limp. Sparks flew from Peter's cord and his spirit was thrown to the side and detached itself from his body. He floated another foot towards the roof of the ambulance. "Clear" His body was wracked and spasmed again. Peter tried to push down towards his body, tried to reconnect his cord instinctively in the vicinity of the centre of his spine. He came face to face with Carter. "Get out of my way. What are you doing?" Peter screamed, "I don't want to die."

"Hello Dad." Carter said matter of factly. "We all have to die sometime Dad. I guess now is as good a time as any."

"Get out of my way. I have a great destiny to fulfil. I can't die like this . . . not now."

"Oh you're going to die alright! Look on the bright side, you can see my mother again, and me, and all the other people you hurt during your poor excuse for a life."

"Let's get him inside. Let the surgeon have a look . , . We can't do any more," the paramedic stated.

As they wheeled him into emergency and into the waiting operating theatre. They were oblivious to the battle going on just above their heads.

The more Peter tried to attach his cord the more Carter resisted him.

"Let go!" Carter ordered.

The surgeon was repairing his heart muscle now.

He quickly tapped off the severed artery and stopped the bleeding. He stitched the tear and lazered the cut closed.

He grabbed the defib. Peter shoved his cord into his body Carter tried unsuccessfully to push him away. The attraction between Peter's body and his Spirit was stronger. Carter tried to shove his cord into Peter's body instead. He thought if he was already in the spine Peter wouldn't be able to connect.

"Clear" Peter's body convulsed. They were both thrown across the room, sparks flying from their cords. Carter recovered a bit quicker than Peter. He had an advantage at last. He knew how to negotiate distance, while Peter was floundering, like a man trying to walk on the moon for the first time. Carter got to Peter's body first. He waited, "Clear" . . . Peter's body jumped a foot off the table, as it came up to him he placed his cord behind Peter's back and rammed his cord hard into Peter's spine. "Get Out". . . "Get Out" . . . "Let Go!" The words echoed through the operating theatre but it wasn't his voice, it was familiar though! . . .Teacher!

"He's back! We've got him back!" The surgeon yelled triumphiantly.

The surgeon checked his vital signs. "That was close, I was just about to call it.

"Let's get, ah, give me the sheet . . . Father Margate to intensive care shall we? Wait a minute," the surgeon checked again, "Orderly, what does that say?" The surgeon pointed to a line on the admission sheet.

"Brown, Mister Panetta."

He opened one of Peter's eyes and asked, "and what would you call that?"

"Blue, sir," the orderly looked puzzled.

"You made a mistake. We can't afford mistakes in surgery! Not even little ones . . . understand?"

"They were brown when he came in," the orderly said quietly to himself.

"What did you say orderly?"

"Nothing sir. I'm sorry I must have made a mistake."

"It's not to happen again! Understand?"

"Yes sir," but under his breath the orderly added, "but I don't really understand."