Paranoia or Reality

Paranoia or Reality Chapter 25

Callen's condition appeared to be getting worse than better. The doctor and the nurse returned to assess him.

"Where is the pain, Mr Campbell?" Dr Harrison asked him.

He looked at the scans they'd taken a day earlier. Nothing came up in the report other than fractured ribs. There was some bruising on Mr Campbell's spine in the thoracic region and he kept the halo in place until the swelling went down.

"My side." He moved his hand to his left side, and instantly Sam knew what it was.

"What do the scans say about his left side?" Sam asked the doctor.

"He has two fractured ribs, but there was no indication it pierced his lungs."

"What about a blood clot?"

Dr Harrison looked at Sam with curiosity. "Are you a trained doctor, Mr Hanna?"

"I served in the SEALs and learned a great deal, patching my team up in the field."

Dr Harrison looked to his nurse. "Organise a scan immediately."

"Yes, Dr Harrison."

"We'll get to the bottom of your pain, Mr Campbell."

Officer Peter O'Conner sat at his desk at Langley, his mind whirling around over recent events. It didn't sit well with him on the matter of killing fellow agents, even if the orders came from Deputy Director, Eric Cairns. There was something that ripped into his heart, that they'd killed an innocent man. His partner, James Dasper, looked up to Cairns and did everything he asked without question.

He needed to get out into the fresh air and escape the walls of this building, which now represented killing the innocent. The CIA had no grounds to operate on US soil to kill its own people, especially those who served as Federal Agents like themselves. He needed a reason to get out of there and to walk away. But if he made himself look suspicious in any way, he knew he'd be next on the hit list.

"Want a coffee?" O'Conner asked his partner.

"Thanks." James continued working at his computer, his eyes never lifted as he worked.

Peter breathed easier as he exited the building. He walked along the street to the nearest cafe and placed in their orders. He waited and waited, and eventually, their coffees were ready. As he turned, he bumped into someone, almost spilling it all over him.

"Watch it," Peter said, hoping to make it out of the cafe without incident.

The man turned and looked at Peter. John Callen stared at him with such intensity.

"What do you want?" Peter stood motionless.

"Where is your partner?"

"Back in the office."

"How has your week been?" John's eyes measured the man before him, and knew he was on edge.

"Fine."

"Bull." John stepped closer. "Kill anyone you shouldn't have?"

Peter swallowed hard the lump that formed and knew John was on to them. "Only orders from up top."

John positioned himself so Peter couldn't move. "Not on US soil, you don't. Tell me who ordered you to shoot that plane down, and we might give you a plea bargain."

Sweat beaded across Peter's face. "He was a Russian spy."

"Is that what you were told?" John's cerulean orbs stared him down.

"Yes."

"By whom?"

"Cairns," Peter breathed out. "He'll kill me if he knows I've told you."