The Russian Crisis

CHAPTER 49

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

At about 5 p.m., Jackson took public transit again to Toronto Western Hospital and walked through a number of hallways and rode elevators to reach Max's room. The man himself was seated in a chair at the side of his bed. He was bandaged but without tubes. A nurse was just leaving. "We have him sitting up to prevent bedsores and other things. But it doesn't mean much," she warned.

"Hi, Max," said Jackson, not expecting an answer.

"Hello." The voice was weak but audible.

"How are you feeling, Max?"

"Fine." The word was slurred. "I am fine."

"Great. I have a question, Max."

"I am fine." The phrase came again in exactly the same way.

"You wanted me to say you were sorry to someone. I forgot who that was, Max. Can you tell me again who you want to apologize to?

Max lifted his head and stared at Jackson. His eyes lacked any spark; they were dull and seemingly covered with a thin film. "I'm sorry," he slurred. "I'm so sorry."

"To whom, Max?" Was it..." Jackson whispered a name into his ear.

"I am fine," Max said with the robotic voice he used the first two times. "I am fine."

Jackson made a few more attempts to get more from the CEO but Max soon drifted away into a semi consciousness and said nothing more than "I am fine" half a dozen times.

A doctor came into the room and Jackson turned to him. "Ah, doctor. We've just been having a good chat." Jackson introduced himself and shook the doctor's hand.

The white-coated doc took in Jackson with a skeptical look. "Is that right?"

"No, it isn't right. He just says 'I am fine' over and over again. I'm his replacement as temporary CEO at his company so it's crucial that we know what's happening."

The doctor wrestled with his sense of confidentiality before answering. "As I've discussed with Mr. Payne, there isn't any brain damage that we can find, from the traffic accident." The doctor didn't term the accident a 'crime'. He continued. "There is, however, a brain tumour unrelated to the accident. It has been there for an estimated six months. Unfortunately..." The doctor dropped his voice and turned his body away from Max's slumping figure. "... it is a very aggressive tumour that is difficult, if not impossible, to treat. The shock of the accident to the rest of his body has kicked the tumour into high gear or, rather, his body into low gear. That's why he is, er, unresponsive."

"Are you saying it's terminal?"

"We never say that, Mr. Phillips. We're planning on moving Mr. Blax to Princess Margaret's. That is a superb cancer hospital, as you might know. Maybe they can do something for him."

There was very little hope in the doctor's words. Jackson left the hospital thinking of the uncertainties of life. Maxim Blax had been a highly intelligent, motivated, energetic man a year before. Now, he may be dying, with a grasping ex-wife and an undelivered apology his memorials.