Lovers and Reprisals (Lovers Series) (10 page)

“Some morning--huh”

Lucien’s concentration had been broken by an officer.  He wondered at what point had he joined the mayhem--and why was he bothering him.

“You’re one of the Delors--right?”

“Yes--Lucien.  Lucien Delors.”  He said.

“Yeah--I thought so.  I recognized the logo on the chopper--and the van.  Was that your pilot who made the call?”

“Yes--it didn’t appear that anyone was helping this young woman--so I instructed him to land.  I hope that wasn’t a problem.”

“Oh no--no problem at all.  Actually, I wanted to thank you.  We--that is--we being the police force--we appreciate good citizens doing their part.  But it’s funny.”

Lucien furrowed his brow.  He didn’t see anything worth laughing at.

The officer said...

“She’s a Samaritan--a young woman, and you hardly ever see them out on their own.  Where are the other members of her Sect?  I’m just asking--but I don’t suspect it’ll matter because the detective said that the Samaritan’s hardly ever sue--and I’ve never witnessed them complaining about anything.”

“Perhaps now isn’t the time to think about lawsuits or who might be blamed.  As you said--she’s here alone--and that’s highly unusual.”

“I guess you’re right.” 

Lucien stood back to get a better look.  In the distance he could see that one of his families solicitors had arrived, and the driver wasn’t talking.  From where he stood, to him it appeared like the driver had finally calmed down. 

Lucien said...

“I’ve instructed the driver of the van to cooperate.”

“Sure, sure.”  The police officer said, then he continued...and Lucien wondered if the man had heard him because his comment picked up on an earlier thought. 

“You know--today is a holiday.  I wonder if her family knows that she’s hurt.”

His chest tightened when he said...

“I doubt it.”  Lucien continued....”Maybe you should contact the Samaritan Conclave.  That might be a good place to start.  Maybe if you send them a picture--I’m sure they’ll be able to identify her, and contact her family.”

Lucien watched as the officer nodded, but he didn’t move to make the call.  To make matters worse, his ears pricked when he heard the medical technicians arguing.

“She’s a Samaritan--and that means that we have to follow certain protocols.”

“But we’re close to Midtown General--we could have her there in less than ten minutes.”

“She’s a Samaritan Quin.  Look--I know that you’re agnostic and you may not give a damn about her Sect or her Creed--but some of us do.  I’m may not be a Samaritan but I am a Christian and I do respect the beliefs of others.  Samaritan’s follow a strict set of rules and--this group of people are devout in their beliefs.  I’m telling you--they cannot step foot in a hospital, unless it’s a Samaritan hospital.  And that limits her choices because the only Samaritan Hospital in this area is located on the Samaritan barge in the harbor.  It’s their rule man--and I’m not going to break it.”

The other tech protested saying,

“That place is more than thirty minutes away--plus, they aren’t equipped to deal with traumatic injuries.”

Lucien couldn’t believe what he was hearing--they were quibbling over religion, Sect Creeds, distances and beliefs.  Whatever happened to discussions that involve the obvious.  Topics like--life and commonsense.  Clearly, this woman was in urgent need of professional medical care--and from where he stood, there was no debating this fact.  He stared at the wires and tubes attached to her body, then he asked himself; would this be enough--or would all their work be in vain?  Lucien looked at the police officer.  He felt compelled to say....

“Look--this was a street accident, and as such, doesn’t that make you the authority in this situation?  If this lady’s injuries require that she be transported to the facility best suited to meet her needs--can’t you override them?  I mean--according to the law--it is her legal right to have the best and safest care.  And...when she wakes up, you’ll need to talk to her--and you can’t do that if she’s dead.”

The officer scratched his head, then he said...

“Well--yes, I guess you’re right--but she is a Samaritan.”

It was clear that this was the sticky point, and the officer and one of the medical technicians weren’t willing to bend.  But as far as Lucien was concerned, in this situation, her religious belief wasn’t a consideration.  Since it had been his families van that took part in this accident--he felt a duty to right things--it would be the just thing to do.

The two techs were busy strapping their injured patient to the stretcher.  They stood at either end, then lifted her for transport.  One of the techs spoke on a headset, reporting on his patients status, while the other positioned the stretcher to the receiving in of the air-transport.  If Lucien was going to intervene, he would have to do or say something now.

Lucien said...

“Officer--may I make a suggestion.  Clearly--this woman needs immediate care--which includes being taken to the closest medical facility.  And I don’t mean Midtown General, like the technician had suggested.  She needs to be taken to Lincoln Medical Facility”

“Lincoln Medical Facility?!”  the officer nearly choked when he repeated the hospital’s name.  “But--that place is a private hospital--and I mean private, private.  I work for the city--and I’m not even allowed to enter the lobby.  Hell, at that place--I couldn’t afford a bandaid for a cut, even if my life depended on it.”

“It is a private hospital--but it’s also the best place for this young woman to be.”

Lucien didn’t want to debate prejudices and how some viewed his wealth as a form of class separation.  Lincoln Medical was a private hospital that catered to the super rich.  Most families owned suites, departments, and some owned entire wings.

The officer stared at him, perplexed, then he said...

“Look, I’m no doctor--but if you think Lincoln will accept her--I’ll agree with whatever is best.”

“Good” Lucien said. “...and I appreciate your help.”

The officer nodded--mainly because he couldn’t think of anything worthwhile to say.

When Lucien approached the medical chopper, he chose to talk to the wiser of the two men.  The tech who’d seemed to grasp the seriousness of this situation. 

“Where are you taking her?”  Lucien asked

“To the Samaritan dock.  From there--the Samaritan ferry will meet us, and then they’ll transport her to the hospital located on their barge.”

“But--that could take more than half an hour.  I thought you said that she needs blood.”

“Yep--you heard me right.”

The tech pushed a button and the stretcher began a slow glide into the rear of the transport.  Lucien touched his shoulder, causing the man’s brow to raise.

“Change of plans.”  Lucien said...

“Excuse me?”

“I said change of plans...”

“You might be wearing white--and since it’s the dead of winter, that can only mean that you’re on your way to the White Ball.”  he glared when he added... “I get it--you’re rich--but you don’t get to decide what happens here.”

Lucien calmly said...

“I didn’t insult you--and you needn’t insult me.”

The tech smirked saying...

“Look man...unlike you--I work for a living--real work--not pushing buttons or shuffling papers.  Just because you’re rich, I don’t have to take bullshit from you.  So get on the curb with the rest of the gawkers.”

Lucien felt a presence behind him and he didn’t have to turn to confirm his suspicions.  He could see by the technicians expression, that more than likely Caesar and the police officer were standing at his rear.  He quirked a smile, then he said...

“Look--my family owns a wing at Lincoln Medical Facility.  You’re going to get on the phone, call Lincoln Medical and tell them to prepare a bed for a guest of Lucien Delors.  You tell them to do whatever it takes to save this woman’s life.  Is that clear?”

Lucien eyed the other tech, because he’d joined them halfway through his monologue--and they each looked like they need to clear their ears.  Lincoln Medical Facility was the place to go if you wanted to receive the best of care.  They only used the latest and most advanced equipment.  Their diagnostic facility blew every other hospital out of the water and every patient was cared for by a private staff, whose job it was to cater to their patients every whim, desire and need.  The amenities were many and no stone was left uncovered when it came to being the best.  Lucien supposed that this, explained the deafening silence.  After a few agonizing heartbeats, the officer finally said...

“Which one of you is making this call--you or you?”

He pointed at both men, then Caesar said...

“Come on guys--stop stalling”

The technician touched his ear piece, while bobbing his head...

“Dispatch--put me through to Lincoln Medical Facility.  Yeah--you heard me right--Lincoln Medical Facility.  And before they get on the line--tell them to roll out the red carpet--courtesy of Lucien Delors” he nodded at something he’d heard from dispatch, then replied saying...

“Tell them, we’re in bound, and reroute the data transmission from the Samaritan Hospital, since she won’t be going there.  Instead--send the information to Lincoln Medical Facility.  And tell them--we’ll keep them updated throughout the flight.”

Lucien turned to Caesar, then he said,,,

“Change of plans.”

“I sorta figured that out.”  Caesar said...  “You gonna call your family--or should I break the news?”

“Neither...”  Lucien said.  They stood back as the medical transport hovered overhead, then glided over three city blocks.  While they walked over to the chopper, Lucien said... 

“It’s the holiday, and I don’t see the wisdom in worrying my family.  I’m sure they’ll tell me to let the solicitor handle this...but I don’t agree.  I think this situation requires hands on involvement from a Delors’.  And since I’m here--and I’m sort of a witness--I see no need to bother anyone else with this problem.”

“I get your point boss...but do you think that your family will feel any better if you decide to blowoff the rest of the day?  I’m just saying...being a no show is a guaranteed way to seed worry and concern”

“Yes--you’re right.”

Lucien knew that his pilot was right. Before he left the Ball, he’d promised Chantel that he would return. 

“Damn”

He cursed.  He didn’t want to worry his family--but he also knew that he would not abandon that woman.  He had a responsibility and he accepted, if he called home, no amount of reasoning would suffice.  

They were flying overhead when clarity hit him and this answer was his only recourse.  He lifted his phone, then pressed her number.  After several rings, the phone was answered.

“Eliza Pendleton...”  In the background, a chorus of sounds filled the receiver, making hearing her difficult. 

Lucien spoke loud enough to be heard over the noise.

“Eliza...this is Lucien...did I catch you at a bad time?”

Eliza and Lucien had been friends for years, and before taking the job at the Governors office, she’d been on retainer for a subsidiary controlled by one of the Delors holding companies.  He could barely hear her when she responded.

“You know me Lucien.  Since the crack of dawn, I’ve been making the rounds with the governor, and a few of his cabinet members.” 

There was a strange tone in her voice.  A sadness that he heard, the longer she talked.

“Actually, the governor is leaving now, and I’m heading for the door--then, after a quick stop at my hotel, I’ll change into my white gown, then, I plan to spend the remainder of my day at your family’s White Ball.”

This was exactly what he’d expected.  He could hear the lessening of sounds and he assumed, that maybe she’d found a quiet room to talk and continue their conversation. 

“If you’re calling me...I take it that you’re not at your family’s house.  What’s wrong?”

“There’s a problem Eliza--and I need your help.  But..., first...I have to ask; are you all right?  You sound like there’s something wrong on your end.”

There was silence and he didn’t venture to make sense of it.  Lucien could hear muffled party noises but as for Eliza; he couldn’t even hear the rise and fall of her breaths.  A few seconds passed, when he broke the silence.

“Eliza...talk to me.  What’s wrong?”

“Lucien...didn’t you just say that you needed my help.”

“Yes...but...”

“No buts.  You know me.  I know how to separate my life from my job.”

“But, Eliza...you don’t work for me anymore.  This favor is from one friend to the other--and what I’m hearing in your voice leads me to believe that you need a friend right now.”

Eliza sighed heavily when she offloaded her troubles.

“I just found out that a friend of mines took his own life.”

“Oh no, Eliza.  I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Yes... so was I.  But...well, what’s done is done and I can’t change what happened.”

Lucien strained to hear because  he thought he heard a sniffle.  Eliza said...