Chasing Anne

Bartholomew's Replacement

  All was still. But in seconds, the silent room erupted into utter chaos as a limp man was wheeled into the ER on a stretcher. Doctors and nurses scurried everywhere, trying desperately to save the wounded man's life. They worked tirelessly, knowing that everything was worth it if they could save the young man's life. It took what seemed like ages, just to stabilize him and then another forever to transfer him to another unit of the hospital where he would be cared for by others. But once he had been transferred from the ER to another ward of the hospital, the action seemed to die down. At least, it did in the hospital room.
Jackson Taylor ran through the doors of the hospital, past the front desk, and straight to the elevator. His wife, Cindy stood at his side, shaking. Jackson wrapped an arm around her to reassure her, but Jackson knew that she was truly terrified. Jack didn't exactly know what had happened back at the hotel they'd been staying at, but somehow while his best friend, Mark Normand was using the elevator, the cables had snapped, and the elevator had plummeted. Mark had gone down with it.
The hospital elevator's doors opened and as soon as they did, Jackson was trotting out into the halls of the new floor. Cindy tried to follow, but then stopped at the main desk on the level. A young man that looked about the age of thirty sat behind the desk and was tapping away at his keyboard. Cindy knocked on the top of the desk to get his attention and succeeded easily, but the man looked annoyed.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
Cindy nodded. "Is there a man by the name of Mark Normand in this ward?"
The man's forehead wrinkled. "Mark Normand?"
Cindy nodded. "He should have just been checked in."
The man nodded and tapped a few keys on the keyboard before looking back up at her and smiling. "There's a Markus Normand here. He was just brought in from the ER."
"That must be him. Can we see him?"
"In about forty-five minutes. He's going into surgery for his broken arm right now. But it shouldn't take too long. I'll let you know when he's coming."
Cindy smiled in relief. "Thank you."
"The man nodded. "My pleasure." And then he went back to tapping at the computer keys.
Cindy turned to find her husband, but he wasn't in sight. She rolled her eyes and began walking in the direction he had gone. How was it possible for a single man to get so caught up with himself that he forgot where he was? This always seemed to happen when he got nervous. He would get himself completely lost, start talking to himself, or both. She turned the corner around the hall, but then immediately wished she hadn't. Jackson was just beyond her, but he was furious. His face was bright red and his hands were on his hips as he defiantly stood in front of a short nurse who looked just as angry as she was. Cindy hustled over and touched her husband's shoulder.
"Jackson, is everything okay?"
The nurse rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Is this your husband?" she asked.
Cindy nodded. "Yes, he-."
"Then get him out of my ward! I want nothing to do with a proud, self-centered man in my hospital!"
Cindy just smiled warmly. "I'm sure Jackson meant no harm. He's just worried about his friend. Mark Normand."
"You mean the fella that was just transferred here not ten minutes ago?" the nurse asked, her gaze softening.
Cindy nodded. "Yes, he was in quite an accident. We only want to be sure he's okay."
"Are you friend or family?"
"Friends."
"Then I'm going to have to wait on telling you exactly what his condition is. It won't take too long for his surgery to finish, so that shouldn't be much concern, but please, find somewhere to sit where I'm not around!"
"We'll do that. Thank you."
The nurse rolled her eyes and turned away. "I don't know what she was thinking when she married that man," she mumbled.
Cindy heard it, but pretended not to and took Jack's hand. "Come on, the other nurse knows where Mark is and-."
"He does?" Jackson interrupted, hope flooding over his face.
Cindy nodded and tugged on his hand. "Come on."
Jackson didn't hesitate and quickly took the lead, charging back up the hall to where his wife indicated the other nurse was. As he drew nearer to the nurse's desk however, Cindy pulled back on his hand.
"Jack, he's undergoing surgery right now. He broke his arm when he fell."
Jackson nodded and slowed slightly. "I think I need to sit down," he mumbled, turning and plopping down into a chair. Cindy sat down next to him and looked at the floor. She and Jackson had been upstairs in their room when the accident had happened. They had only known something had gone wrong when they hear sirens blaring. Jackson had gone to the window to try to find out why the sirens were so loud when he realized that a bright red firetruck, a dozen police cars, and two ambulances had pulled into the hotel parking lot. He'd immediately run for the stairs, knowing the elevator wouldn't get him down fast enough. Once he'd reached the lobby, he saw twenty or more EMT's rushing toward the elevator doors as a few firemen forced the elevator doors open. Jackson tried to peer around them, but he had no luck seeing any of what was in the elevator. He turned to the woman at the desk, but she wasn't there. Jack rolled his eyes. How was he going to get answers now? He turned back to the action and watched as the EMT's lifted a limp man to their stretcher. At the time, Jack couldn't tell who the man was or even if he knew him, but as they started to rush the young man out of the hotel lobby, Jackson's blood ran cold at the sight of Mark, his best friend, lying limp upon the stretcher.
By then, Cindy had made her way down to him and arrived just in time to see him bolt towards the door. She'd run after him as quickly as he could and barely made it into their car as Jackson fired the automobile to life and pulled out of the parking lot.
"What hospital was Anne taken to when she was shot?" Jackson had asked, glancing at his wife.
Cindy had pulled out her phone and opened the maps app. She scrolled around on the screen a while and then directed her husband towards the hospital that Anne had last stayed in. From then on, what happened had been quite simple. Jackson had pulled into the hospital, saw Mark go into the ER, and had begun to follow him since. Of course, Jackson hadn't really known where Mark would end up after the ER, but he guessed and to his delight he'd guessed correctly. And now he sat in an ugly beige chair...waiting...and waiting.
As the seconds ticked into minutes and the minutes into hours, Jackson began to pace back and forth. His heart was heavy and his spirits low, but he knew that as long as Mark was okay, everything would be all right. At least, for now it would be. This was the second time Mark had been hospitalized this month. First he'd been shot, and now he'd broken his arm barely surviving a death fall. It was too much to take in. All of this pointed to one thing and one thing only. Mark was being targeted now, and Anne was the reason why. Jackson didn't know why Mark was a threat to whoever had Anne, but he now knew that whoever had her wasn't afraid of killing those who got in the way of his plans. Apparently, Mark had disrupted his plans and was now paying for it. But...why Mark? Jackson turned his thoughts to the attack at the McCourtney's home just a few days before. He himself had nearly died then, and Jackson refused to think that it was just a coincidence that the attacker had...well attacked them. And then Bartholomew somehow growing wings...that was just too strange. There were bits and pieces of the story everywhere, but Jack felt as though he were missing half of the puzzle. What on earth was going on?
Not a month before, Mark had just been a young man in his twenties completely smitten with Anne McCourtney and set on making her his wife. Now...now everything was a mess. Anne was gone, Mark was broken, Bartholomew was who knows where, and they were sitting in a hospital room for the third time that month. It was overwhelming.
Jackson sat back down his chair and folded his hands, twiddling his thumbs. Cindy reached over and touched his arm. He looked into her hazel green eyes, trying to read her expression, but she just nodded behind him. Jack turned and then did his best to smile. Brianna Normand walked over to them and sat down, her head dropping into her hands a moment before she looked up.
"Doc says he'll be in fine shape by tonight. By then we may even be able to talk to him once he's out of anesthesia," She said.
Jackson nodded. "That'll be nice."
"Do you have any idea what happened?" Brianna asked. "I saw him leave with Bartholomew, but...then this happened."
"Bartholomew was with him?" Jackson asked.
"Yes, the two were going to try to find you. They wanted to try to get to Parr Manor as soon as possible, but...Jackson, what happened?"
"He was in the elevator. The cables snapped and well, he survived a near three story fall. I suppose breaking his arm isn't a huge deal, but it will certainly immobilize him."
"He broke his arm?" Brianna asked, her eyes wide.
Jackson nodded. "As far as I know."
"How bad is it?" she continued.
"He broke his Radius," a man wearing a long white lab coat said. "But it has been set correctly and so he should be all right in a few months."
Brianna smiled and outstretched her hand. "I'm Brianna Normand, Doctor McCourtney. I'm the one who was staying with your cousin.
Jackson's eyes popped. "Anne has a brother?" he asked, instantly regretting it.
The doctor turned to him and smiled. "Anne didn't tell you about me?"
Jackson turned red. "I'm sorry, Sir."
The doctor laughed. "Call me Andrew, Mr. Taylor. And I'm Anne's cousin. Not her brother."
"You know my name?" Jack asked.
Andrew smiled. "Well, word gets around pretty quickly. Mark is in recovery room for the next few hours. Why don't you three step into my office? I think I need to be clued in on what's happening."
Jackson nodded. "Well, I'll tell you all that I know...but it's not a lot."
"Well, at least it's something," Andrew said, glancing at the clipboard in his hands and then motioning for them to follow him. Jackson, Cindy and Brianna all stood and followed him in a single file line. Andrew found it kind of funny, but he could tell by the looks on the three's faces that there was more important things on their mind than walking in a perfectly straight line. He opened the door to his office and let them inside, offering them the seats that sat against the back wall. Cindy and Brianna took them gratefully, but Jackson just started pacing.
Andrew sat down behind his desk and looked up at the anxious man. "Mr. Taylor, would you like to explain to me what you know?"
"Well, do you know who Raymond Parr is?"
That name seemed to explain everything. Andrew's face paled and his eyes widened. "Raymond Parr?" he asked in a whisper.
Jackson nodded. "You know him?"
Andrew nodded and sighed, leaning back against his desk chair. "I do, sadly. Since my uncle's death...well...we've been hearing a lot about him. He used to be like Anne's older brother...at least, he did until he stopped liking being given orders. He wanted to be the man in charge...but...my uncle wouldn't let him." Andrew rested his elbows on his desk and laid his head in his hands. "A lot of things have played into this."
"But what does Mark have to do with any of this?"
"There was an automobile accident years ago that both Mark and Raymond were a part of. Mark's grandfather, Markus, was killed in that accident, and Raymond's father also didn't make it. Ray has had a grudge on Mark ever since, blaming Mark for the accident. Truly, the accident was caused by the fact that his father was drunk and blew through a red light, but...Raymond is quite content blaming Mark for it. And since Mark had been showing serious affection for my cousin...Raymond's been jealous. And that just gave him another reason to eliminate Mark from his plans." Andrew sighed, shaking his head. "This had been going on for fifteen years."
"So Raymond wants my brother dead?" Brianna asked.
Andrew nodded. "That'd be my guess."
Brianna slumped. "Great."
"Do you have any ideas on how to stop him?" Jack asked.
Andrew shrugged. "Raymond's very smart. He's not going to stop at anything. Not unless it costs him his life."
"So then what do you suggest we do?"
"Lay low. Keep Markus off of Ray's radar. If Ray thinks that Mark is dead, then we have a little time."
"Mark is pretty set on getting Anne back from Raymond, Andrew," Brianna said.
"Then talk him out of it. His life depends on it. I will be in touch, but for now, let the case of Raymond alone. Otherwise, Mark is going to be in here with far worse injuries than a broken radius."
Brianna nodded. "We'll try."
Andrew nodded. "Thank you. All of you will be able to see Mark by tonight. I'll see what I can do about quickening his recovery though."
"Thanks, Andrew," Cindy said, speaking for the first time in what seemed like ages. "We really do appreciate it."
Andrew smiled, but all three of them could see the pain hiding behind his eyes. Andrew knew what was coming...did Mark?

Ardor moved slowly toward Bartholomew's room where a few other angels had gathered. Bartholomew sat on his bed, his hands folded in his lap. His general paced in front of him, clearly frustrated.
"So they recognized you?"
Bartholomew nodded. "It's not exactly like I'm not well known, General. I've managed to remain unknown for twenty-four years. Someone was bound to find out!"
"Well, a few broken ribs aren't too bad, Bart. But the risk is certainly setting in. Markus and Anne are on the verge of destruction."
"Their faith is enough to protect them for now. But yes. Raymond certainly is gaining power."
"Bart, there is a reason why I place you on this mission. Anne trusts you and so does Mark, but the stakes are going too high."
"Well, we always knew that they would. Parr is closer to the weapon than ever and our defenses are down...by a lot. I've told you that I need a few more-."
"Bart! Yes, I know you've asked for a small group of warriors for your mission! But when have you ever led anything solely?"
"It's been a while, I know, but Mark and Anne need to be kept alive!"
"And you've been keeping them alive!"
"By almost killing myself in an elevator! General Cayden, I need more help. Now more than ever!"
Cayden clearly did not like what he was hearing. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. "I sent Ardor to you as a backup, Bartholomew."
"Ardor is only one angel!"
"You only have two people that you have to protect!"
"What about Brianna, Jackson, Cindy and the other members of her family?"
"They are not our main focus, Bart. Our task is to protect the Raymond family and McCourtney family. That means Mark and his family, Anne and her family."
"Anne hardly has any family left! I failed to rescue her mother from the crash and...well...her father was-."
"Bartholomew, that was the will of our Lord. It was a part of his plan."
"Mark is all that Anne has left. You know they need each other and...I can't keep both of them safe effectively with only two angels. I only ask for two more. Just Amory and Kaarle. I have worked with them before. They are good warriors."
"Your request is denied, Bartholomew. You know how many times I've told you that you will get Ardor and no more than that."
"But I need more angels with me. We're going to lose the future of the mission we face if we-."
"SILENCE!" Cayden roared.
Bartholomew closed his mouth and bowed his head. "Forgive me, General."
Cayden just huffed. "Ardor, come in."
Ardor obeyed and came to stand at attention beside his commander. "Yes, Sir?" he asked.
Cayden glanced at Bartholomew and then looked back at Ardor. "You will be assuming command over the Normand mission."
Bartholomew's head shot up and Ardor nearly fainted.
"He'll what?" Bartholomew asked.
"He's assuming command," Cayden said, his eyes narrowing. "Bartholomew is not ready to return to the battle field just yet. You, Ardor will assume his position until he is able to return. That is, if I let him return."
Bartholomew was angry now. He stood to his feet, ready to rebuke the General. But just as he opened his mouth, he remembered that Cayden was his General and closed his mouth. Cayden eyed him and then turned his attention back to Ardor.
"You may choose two warriors of your choice to go with you. Those two will replace Bartholomew in his absence. Because the skill of Bartholomew cannot be matched by one warrior, you may choose two warriors."
Ardor looked at Bartholomew and Bartholomew nodded, mouthing the names Amory and Kaarle. Ardor looked the general in the eyes. "I ask for Amory and Kaarle," he said.
Cayden bit his lip and turned to Bartholomew. "You are quite the-."
"That's enough, Cayden," another voice said from behind. Cayden whipped around and then snapped to attention as his captain entered the room frowning. "You are dismissed, Ardor. Your requested warriors will meet you outside in a few moments."
Ardor nodded, saluted and then left the room. Captain Richard entered the room and glanced at Bartholomew a moment before turning to Cayden. "Bartholomew is right, Cayden. He will need more warriors with him."
Cayden swallowed a glare and tried to remain calm. "Sir, I am sure that-."
"Bartholomew knows firsthand how dire this operation this is. I have been watching him, and I believe his mission holds more significance than we think."
"Captain, you do not understand-."
"Bartholomew, how many warriors do you think you'll need?" Richard continued.
"Ten," Bartholomew answered quickly.
"And which warriors would you choose outside of Amory and Kaarle?" Richard continued.
"The only ones I can name are Necia and Peter."
"Peter?" Richard asked, raising a brow.
Bartholomew nodded. "The rest I have not thought very hard about."
"Well, I'll give you a few days to choose. While you recover however, Ardor will be assuming command over the Normand mission."
Bartholomew nodded. "I understand, Sir. I only worry for him."
"Then don't. Amory and Kaarle are good warriors. They will protect him. In the meantime, Cayden I would like to have a short meeting with you," Richard said, turning his eyes back to the General.
Cayden nodded. "Yes, Sir."
"And Bartholomew?" Richard called as he turned to leave.
"Yes?" Bartholomew asked.
Richard smiled. "Rest well."
Then he turned, and left the room, leaving Bartholomew alone. The angel stood shakily, trying not to cause himself pain. It normally didn't take this long for him to heal, but he'd never quite been in an accident like this one before. He closed his eyes and let his mind turn back to the fateful event the day before. At least Normand was alive. He bowed his head. But how long would he be? How long would Anne be?
Ardor came into the room behind him and stopped in the doorway. "Are you all right, Bartholomew?"
Bartholomew turned, wincing. "I'm all right."
Ardor lowered his head. "I'm sorry about what happened."
Bartholomew shrugged. "There was nothing you could have done, Ardor. I'm just glad it wasn't any worse."
"The dark one that was with you...you knew him...didn't you?"
Bartholomew racked his memory a moment before answering. "He knew me...but I did not know him."
Ardor nodded. "I should be on the lookout then?"
Bartholomew sat down on his bed again and shrugged. "The dark ones have always been around, Ardor. They just didn't know that I was with Mark."
"Well, they do now."
"So be careful, Ardor. They'll come at you from all sides. You must be ready."
Ardor nodded. "Amory and Kaarle will be good support. We'll hold down the fort for you while you recover. Don't worry about us."
Bartholomew laughed and looked out the window of their fortress. "How can I not?" he asked, avoiding eye contact. He sighed. "I'll be back with you in just a week. I'll have back up then. Can you hold-?"
"We'll be fine," Ardor assured. "Now if I were you, I would get some rest."
Bartholomew nodded. "God be with you, Ardor."
Ardor smiled. "The same to you."
Then he was gone.