Jack offered Cat a water bottle to wash her mouth. Shaking, she handed him her purse. “Jack, get the alprazolam inside. I have a prescription for it but I’m afraid I can’t take a pill by myself now.”
“Understood. Sorry about this,” the former ranger apologized for rummaging in her purse and quickly found the blister.
She extended her tongue to take the pill like a kid and washed it down with water from the bottle. Cat hated the medicine but it was exactly what she needed right then. Something to dull her anxiety (maybe a full-blow panic attack but she wasn’t able to tell the difference) and allow her to think.
“Thank you,” she said. “It’ll take about twenty minutes to kick in. I’ll be fine.”
The security team was still screening her, keeping a wary eye on the perimeter. Leaning against the ruined armored sedan, Cat had a blanket over her back but she couldn’t stop shivering.
“Bad luck. Hells, how can I know?” Cat answered.
She could see the police coming and going, checking the vehicles, and removing the civilians stuck in the crossfire. Several people were injured and a few died. She closed her eyes and prayed for Oliver’s wellbeing. The thought of losing him was one of the things that drove her to take the zombifying (in her opinion) medicine. There was a swarm of helicopters and drones flying around the bridge. A cop shouted something about taking the drones down but another (probably up the command chain) told him off. They didn’t come close to her.
Time passed, the medicine kicked in and Cat felt her anxiety flatline along with most other emotions. If this was the feeling of being stoned, she’d never do drugs in her life, she swore to herself. She kept staring at the backs of her security detail with the eyes of a dead fish. Even Catherine in her head became silent. She heard ambulance sirens and a lot of movement around her. The cars started to drive off the bridge, a few being towed away. She heard a cop (she assumed) talk about how they were on TV. Finally, the ambulances could cross the bridge and give assistance to those too wounded to be removed without paramedic aid. An hour after the attack, she was fighting to stay awake, her strength completely drained by the stressful ordeal.
“How’s the girl?” A woman asked. “She doesn’t seem well.”
“She’s in shock,” Jack answered. “She said she’s not hurt but you should check her. She took her anxiety medication, that’s why she’s quiet.”
The woman was allowed next to Cat. “Miss, I’m Jennifer. Can I check you for wounds? How are you feeling? Any pain?”
Cat took some time to process what she said and look at the paramedic. She shook her head. “No. This blood is not mine. Oliver...” She hiccuped.
“Come with me to the ambulance, okay? Can you walk?” The kind paramedic asked. Cat nodded and went with her, with Jack right behind her. At the ambulance, the paramedic raised a hand. “Can you give us some time alone, sir?”
“No!” Cat protested. “Even if I have to strip naked, Jack stays,” she begged with teary puppy eyes.
“I understand, miss. Please sit down here.”
She sat in the ambulance and let the paramedic do her thing. The woman washed the blood off of her and did a physical check. Cat had some small cuts and bruises from the broken glass that fell on her that she didn’t notice with everything happening around her. It stung as the paramedic cleaned these small wounds but she didn’t complain. Finally, the paramedic gave her some ibuprofen and released her.
Cat had to grab Jack’s arm to steady herself.
“Keep your head down. Too many birds trying to take pictures of you,” the ranger cautioned.
“Okay. How’s Oliver?” She asked, dreading the answer.
“He’s at the hospital now. One of our men went with him. He’s alive. We’ll check on him once we are cleared to leave. The police want to talk to you, let me handle it.”
“Talk as little as possible with the cops, gotcha,” she snickered sardonically. “Been there.”
“I’m sorry I forgot,” Jack said.
Cat tightened her grip on the man’s arm, “No, no. Jack, will you stay with me?”
“That was the plan, Miss Wallenstein,” He smirked.
They rejoined the rest of the security team. One of the men gave Cat a baseball hat to hide her face from the drones.
“Then it’s Catherine, Cat, or Cathy for you. Not ‘Miss Wallenstein’. I...” Cat sobbed and shook her head. “Oliver. All that matters is Oliver’s health. I must go to him.”
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The cops attempted to interview her but she claimed the Fifth and directed their questions to her bodyguard. After they got what they needed, they cleared them to leave. Cat went to the escort car with Jack and two other security guards while the other two would stay behind with the ruined sedan. The police had already claimed the car as evidence but there was some insurance paperwork to fill before it could be towed away by the forensic team.
They finally crossed the bridge into New York. Relieved, Cat allowed her body to rest and fell asleep from sheer stress.
----------------------------------------
She woke up and found herself in a hospital chair with a blanket wrapped over her shoulders. Not a gurney or a bed and she was thankful for that. She had a migraine and could tell the alprazolam was still in her system. It usually took the better part of a day to clear but it gave her an estimate of how long she was unconscious. About two hours. Looking around, she found Jack by her side.
“Where are we?”
“The Presbyterian. It was the closest hospital. Oliver is in surgery. He’ll make it,” Jack reassured her.
She blinked her tears away. [Catherine?]
[I think they were trying to kill me.]
Catherine shouted,
Cat winced. “Jack, did all that happened because of me?” She asked out loud.
“No,” the ranger answered adamantly. “Catherine, you are not to blame for what happened. Don’t let anyone hear you say otherwise,” he stated, then added in a low voice, “We got some reporters nearby. Don’t give them what they want.”
“Roger that,” she replied.
Without anything better to do, they waited. Sometime later, a couple of men approached her. Without raising her head, she saw him flash a badge with the corner of her eye.
“Miss Wallenstein, I’m agent Ashford from the FBI. Can we talk?”
“Can we not?” She rebutted with a tired voice.
“Her friend is in surgery,” Jack explained, placing a protective arm in front of her. “Miss Wallenstein is severely distressed.”
“We understand,” the other agent replied. “We are here just to ask her some questions.”
Cat pulled her legs up and pulled the edges of the blanket around her arms as she hugged her knees. Resting her forehead against them, all she needed to do as the ghost suggested was to remember Oliver’s blood soaking her neck and back.
“Please leave her alone. Once Mr. McNamara is out of surgery, we’re going to the courthouse,” Jack said. “Miss Wallenstein was scheduled to testify before the judge, although we missed that appointment already. She’ll be available then. Here’s my card.”
“We need to--”
Cat interrupted the FBI agent. “Gentlemen, I’m exercising my constitutional rights and not saying a word more. Stay here or leave, it’s your choice. I’m sorry if I sound angry. I know you’re just doing your job.”
Jack and the agents talked to each other for a while but Cat didn’t pay attention. She kept trying to find what she could’ve done to avoid that but came up empty. The feeling of powerlessness overwhelmed her. She remembered Oliver saying the PI noticed strange people visiting her assailant’s house but she wouldn’t tell that to the FBI. It was useless hearsay.
Then it struck her like a lightning bolt. The other three victims were scheduled to testify today, one after the other. The police wanted all four testimonies recorded exactly to avoid…
An assassination attempt!
She trembled at the thought. The other girls might’ve been attacked and probably didn’t have a top-tier lawyer with the presence of mind to hire a full security team.
She raised her head and looked at the agents. “Were we the only ones attacked today?”
Somber, the FBI agent shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Miss Wallenstein.”
The blood drained from her face and extremities. She felt a soul-rending shiver and puckered her lips. “Please, Lord. No,” she prayed.
The agent tried to keep a neutral face but she could tell he was trying to hide his anger. Not at her but at the situation, “I’m sorry, Miss. Do you want to say something?”
She closed her eyes, feeling the sting of the tears. Even with the alprazolam, she felt her head spin and wished to run away, far away, and hide. She would probably be unable to function without it. She had to burn all her willpower to remain still and not make a scene for the reporters covertly watching the situation unfold.
“Please promise me you’ll make them pay. I’ll answer your questions later, at the courthouse or the police station. But now I must focus on Oliver’s recovery. I swear I won’t run away.”
The agents exchanged a glance, communicating in silence. Ashford was the one to reply, “We understand, miss Wallenstein. We’ll meet again at the police station.”
The FBI left them alone. Oliver’s surgery took three hours but the lawyer made it through. Later, Cat learned that if he hadn’t the bulletproof vest and helmet on or if they weren’t in an armored car, he’d be dead, and probably so did she.
She was allowed to see him from afar as they took him to the ICU. The doctor assured her he was out of danger and would recover. With that out of the way, tried to leave the hospital. As they went for the elevator, a reporter with a handheld camera ambushed them.
“Miss Wallenstein, what do you think of the terrorist attack on the Washington Bridge?”
She turned away from the camera and Jack shielded her. “No comments,” he said to the reporter and then shouted, “Security!”
By the time the elevator arrived, the reporter was being dragged away by the hospital security staff. They went to the basement and took off on the escort car.
Cat sighed but the ghost had a point. Not only she’d ruined the second pantyhose in a day, but her dress also had bloodstains. She would need to wash her hair too but Catherine knew of a salon near the shop that could do that in a few minutes. Cat was about to learn that a woman’s sense of time was completely skewed while in a beauty salon. She got her hair washed and her ruined makeup redone.
Jack and his security escorted Cat as the girl’s specter directed her host on, in her words, “a modest shopping spree”. Cat had them steam a set of clothes so she could walk out of the store wearing them. She went for a practical look with sneakers, a white shirt, jeans, and a leather jacket. The other clothes along with what she wore during the attack she asked to be delivered to her home. Before leaving, Cat added a new baseball hat to cover her face.
Freshened up, she contacted detective Martinez and was instructed to go to the police station. Agent Ashford of the FBI was there waiting for her.