Together We Lie

Chapter One

Mytrainerssqueakedacross the glossy white vinyl flooring as I hurriedly followed six hospital workers all donned in green scrubs and the two heavily armed men accompanying them. Two nurses kept exchanging rapid glances at each other from across the bed, with only their eyes visible from behind their facemasks. Their full expressions may have been lost behind the three-ply, light teal fibre masks, but the fear in those glances betrayed everything.

They were terrified.

The gurney protested as the rickety left wheel in the back shook frantically at the speed it was being pushed along the empty hallway, the quick but steady beep of the heart monitor attached to the bedside railing setting the pace.

The building we were in was modern, spacious and bright, with glass walls sectioning off several modest-sized offices. State-of-the-art computers sat atop height adjustable desks with solid black leather chairs tucked in neatly, waiting for the next working day with none of their occupants knowing what had happened the night before.

We hurried, passing another two men fully dressed in black combat pants, short-sleeve t-shirts, and bulletproof vests brandishing military-grade rifles, their hands flexing on the pistol grips and handguards. Both men’s eyes followed the team, expressionless and composed as their boss was wheeled unconscious past them.

The bed rounded into an empty room, save for medical equipment and a stony-faced surgeon, whose hands were held between his neck and waistline.

“Quickly, quickly,” he snapped, his tone bolder in contrast to the slight shake of his hands. He jutted his chin towards a space in the middle of the room, frantic as he halted the bed with his raised hand. “We don’t have much time. We should have started this procedure thirty minutes ago.”

One of the armed guards grabbed the surgeon by the throat and snarled, “You better not fuck this up, Doctor Zare.”

“Get your hands off me,” the doctor choked out, his voice losing the little bravado he had before, as the brutal grip of the guard’s thick fingers squeezed around his neck. The guard flexed his grip before pushing the surgeon back, sneering as he walked away.

I wondered if this doctor was on Nissaney’s payroll, or if he was being extorted. Maybe a greater person would care enough to investigate this, help him if needed, but that person was not me; I couldn’t give two fucks who this asshole was. He was not the objective today.

The man currently lying unconscious was tonight’s assignment: Alessio Nissaney. Lucrative business owner turned crime boss with several vocations across the Valley. But none was as profitable as his role in the theft and trading of organs. The man was the kingpin in selling fresh organs on the black-market and had no moral code when it came to money. No one was off-limits; man, woman, or child, if you had something one of his clients needed, Nissaney would deliver. No one was safe from him or his henchmen.

With a recent diagnosis of heart disease, and rather than change his diet and take the prescribed medication like a normal person, Nissaney finally required the use of his own resources and that would ultimately be his downfall.

The surgeon took a breath before walking towards the knocked out Nissaney, skimming the charts held out by a nurse, then quickly checked his vital signs and barked orders to his staff scurrying around him, all the while avoiding eye contact with the goons holding guns at the ready.

I hung back near the door, watching and waiting to be assigned my task in all of this. The room had medical curtains lining the windows, cocooning it in to look like a faux surgical suite. A large operating light, stationed in the centre, hung over the gurney, and on several portable stainless-steel carts near the far wall lay blood bags, IV fluids, and various surgical utensils, all available to start the procedure that would save the sick bastard’s pathetic life.

“Nurse Constantine,” Dr. Zare said firmly, barely glancing up in my direction, “as soon as I have made the incision into the patient’s sternum, I need you to run to Dr. Anderson. He will hand you the new heart and then you must run straight back. This is very time-sensitive.”

I nodded, excitement bubbling deep in my stomach as I reached up to smooth the green cap sitting on top of my red hair, which I had tied in a tight ponytail. I bounced on the balls of my feet, my pulse racing as I watched the surgeon’s shaky hand pick up a steel scalpel from the cart someone had rolled to his side.

Thank God my mask hid my teeth digging sharply into my bottom lip as I waited. Tingles ran down my arms in anticipation for Dr. Zare to start the procedure to remove Nassaney’s black heart.

“Now!” he shouted, and my heart leapt as I turned to take off down the corridor towards the two mountains of muscle guarding the door that could only contain one Dr. Anderson.

I ran as fast as I could, my shoes slapping against the floor, squeaking with every step. My pulse thrashed in my ears, adrenaline pumping through my veins as my foot caught, and I stumbled to the floor, crashing onto my outstretched hands, ready to break my fall. I grabbed my ankle, groaning in pain as I ducked my hand under my trouser leg to where three syringes were held to my skin with several strips of micropore tape.

“For fuck’s sake,” one guard muttered, coming closer, his hand going for my bicep. He bent down, shifting his gun to the side as he reached for me. Thrusting my palm upwards, the heel of my hand connected firmly with his nose, blood bursting from it as it broke on contact, his warm crimson blood running down his chin and across my hand.

I pushed to my feet, launching for the guard, and stuck one of the needles concealed in my palm straight into his neck and pushed the plunger down.

“You fucking bitch,” mountain man number two barked as his friend stumbled against the only wall not made from glass on this whole floor. He grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back against his massive chest. One long, strong arm bound across my torso as he reached over to snatch my arm in his fingers and painfully squeezed the muscle, making it immobile, as the beginnings of getting a dead arm trickled to my fingertips. His other hand came up to my front and wrapped tightly around my throat, hauling me off the floor as he reared back.

Fighting, I tucked my chin down, pressing into his grip, and slammed my head back into his face as hard as I could, but he didn’t drop me, only groaned. I fisted my hand and struck backwards, fighting the numbness filtering down my arm thanks to mountain-dickman’s fingers still pressed into my muscle. My fist landed square between his legs, the second syringe piercing straight through the thin cotton of his trousers. The guard hissed, pushing me away from his body, eyes wide at the sight of the plastic barrel sticking out of his dick.

“Didn’t your mother tell you that light choking is only good during sex?” I taunted through a cough and rubbed at my neck, all the while trying desperately hard not to laugh at the tube bobbing up and down as the guard stumbled backwards.

I rested my hands on my knees, breathing in deeply as I watched the second of the two huge men fall on his ass and pass the fuck out. Looking quickly around – that fight was anything but quiet – I made my way to the door, testing the lock.

“Son of a bitch,” I groaned, tipping my head back in frustration. Turning back to the passed-out guards, I checked their pockets for a key, before snagging one of their guns in the process.

Unlocking the door, it swung open to a small storage room, cast in a light blue hue. A timid grey-haired man sat on a stool by what could only be described as a containment chamber you’d keep Alien or Predator in for science experiments. Suspended in this incubator was the heart destined for Nissaney. Wires and tubes were connected to the organ, keeping it alive and fresh after being cut out of some innocent person whose only crime was being healthy and having the same blood type as the crime boss down the hall.

The doctor shakily stood, holding his hands up disarmingly. I sighed, only just realising most of these people were not here of their own volition.

“Dr. Anderson, is it?” I asked, squaring my shoulders as I marched into the room, glancing briefly at the heart that was pulsing in the glass incubator. The doctor nodded, with his hands still held high. I looked at the rifle I had pointed in his direction and shrugged. “Nothing will happen to you if you do what I say, okay?”

“But- But Nissaney?”