As a general rule, there were no more than ten military men stationed at the hospital.

  Their job was strictly routine: make their rounds patrolling, stuff themselves in the cafeteria, and keep a government issued gun they’d never used slung over their shoulder. The most serious problem they faced each day was boredom. The soldiers enjoyed a generous amount of freedom given the army didn’t consider protection of the hospital an issue of major importance—which is why they’d organized their own system of taking turns on rounds.

  After working things out amongst themselves, the consensus was that they should equitably share time spent in charge of the area where the nurses tended to take their breaks, and work time into the schedule for organizing poker games to keep from falling asleep.

  Sergeant Roydon E. Spencer was the one who’d spent the longest time assigned to this least favorite post of security watch at the hospital. The veteran had spent more than three years doing this job. A grenade had exploded near him during the last war and the shrapnel had reduced the use of his right leg by about fifty percent. Since then, thanks to his limp, the army decided the best way for him to serve London would be by maintaining order in a second-rate hospital. Just a few months of the repetitive rounds through the building had bestowed a shield of cynicism on him that he found quite useful when facing his daily tasks.

  Considering his situation, things weren’t going that badly. He’d been winning at poker for almost a week straight and they’d sent him a new soldier who, being the new guy, was saddled with the worst schedule. It wouldn’t take the guy long to figure out how things worked around there and ask to be in on the card games. Yes, Sergeant Spencer had been doing all right and then everything had gone haywire two days before when a military truck parked in front of the main entrance and deposited a new patient in his temple of routine.

  The changes hadn’t ended with one truck and its delivery. Two other trucks had followed the first, arriving shortly after it. And in the blink of an eye, those ten soldiers who so “rigorously” faced the task of safeguarding the hospital grew in number to some fifty solders, all charged with guarding this one patient. Major Gordon himself had been on the premises and made it abundantly clear he wanted the new tenant watched over twenty-four hours a day.

  “If someone without authorization goes into room 213,” Gordon had said in the tone of voice used by someone who does not intend to repeat himself, “I will hold you personally responsible, Sergeant.”

  Spencer had immediately stood at attention—as straight as his handicapped right leg would allow him to stand.

  “I will see to it personally, Sir,” assured the veteran, working to inject a tone of certainty into his voice.

  “Lieutenant Cooper will be in charge of the patient’s security.” Gordon motioned with his thumb to a tall, bald man with broad shoulders. Lieutenant Cooper stepped forward and saluted with such perfection Spencer thought he looked like a robot. With his meticulously neat uniform and his noticeably well-developed muscles, he was the finest specimen of a soldier Spencer had ever seen. “You will remain in charge of security for the hospital, but room 213 is Lieutenant Cooper’s responsibility. We’re installing video cameras inside it and will constantly monitor the patient’s progress.”

  Just that abruptly, Sergeant Spencer’s monotonous universe had suffered the most drastic transformation since he’d joined the ranks of London’s health system. And his new colleague, this Lieutenant Cooper, had turned out to be one seriously boring guy who was determined to scrupulously respect military code. It went without saying the poker games had to be suspended—temporarily, of course—thereby interrupting one of the Sergeant’s best winning streaks ever.

  “Relax a little, Cooper,” joked Spencer. He’d brought a coffee to his rigid colleague who was, as always, in front of room 213. “Standing like that can’t be good for your back.”

  Cooper shot the sergeant an indifferent look as Spencer limped toward him up the hallway with two plastic cups, one in each hand.

  “Good afternoon, Sergeant,” saluted the perfectly trained Cooper.

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  “Coffee?” Spencer handed him the cup and Cooper took it, thanking him. “I don’t remember having seen you more than ten feet from that door. I’m no expert, but I don’t think our friend is going anywhere. He has three broken ribs, a shattered leg, and he’s in a coma. You can take a breather, believe me.”

  “I’m only following orders.” Cooper took a sip of coffee.

  “So, tell me, who is our dear patient? It wasn’t very considerate of Gordon to put me in charge of him without even telling me why he’s so important.”

  “Major Gordon doesn’t have to give you any explanation,” replied Cooper, rather annoyed. “He only has to tell you what you need to know to carry out your orders.”

  “That’s true,” said Spencer cynically. “I see he didn’t tell you who the guy is, either. How strange.”

  “No one knows who he is,” defended Cooper, still more annoyed. “He was trying to get into London without a pass. I was chasing him and sent my dog after him, but he somehow managed to turn the dog back on me, and it bit me on the leg before I could get the muzzle back on him. Then there was an explosion that opened up an enormous crater in the ground, and part of the wall came down. The guy turned up unconscious at the bottom of the crater.”

  “I heard about the explosion at the Gate,” said Spencer, thinking about the rumors that had run rampant amongst the hospital personnel. “Very mysterious, our little patient. Do you know anything about the black guy?”

  “What black guy?” asked Cooper, confused.

  “A little after you got here, the biggest black guy I’ve ever seen in my life showed up at the hospital. He’s been sitting in the waiting room for two days—never moves. His head’s completely shaved, and he wears hoop earrings. I swear to you, he’s a damn giant. I doubt we could take him down with just one bullet.”

  “Do you think he came to see our guest?”

  “I have no idea. He’s completely silent. Never says a word. But he got here shortly after the patient did and he hasn’t visited a soul. Anyhow, he’s probably just some nutcase. All kinds of whack jobs come to the hospital.” Spencer supported his explanation by making little circles with his forefinger next to his temple. “You’ll get used to it. I think I’ll pay a visit to our friend and then continue with my rounds.”

  Spencer went into the room, allotted barely two seconds to glancing around and then went back out. As he’d expected, the patient was lying in the bed, completely still. A ton of tubes were connected to his body, so other than dirty black hair streaked with gray and a big nose, not much of him was visible.

  “Everything is as it should be,” he told Cooper as he closed the door behind him. “I don’t see why so much security is needed for some guy in a coma who’s already under the constant supervision of two surveillance cameras.”

  “Those are our orders,” replied Cooper. “It’s not up to us to decide what’s needed.”

  Spencer shrugged his shoulders and was about to offer his unsolicited opinion, but he didn’t get a single word out. A reddish light shone on Cooper’s face which was frozen into a look of astonishment. Spencer, alarmed, turned toward the mystery patient’s room and saw a strange light filtering through the cracks of the door. It immediately became too bright to look at, and both soldiers instinctively covered their eyes with their hands. Then they heard a muffled explosion and felt a vibration.

  Cooper was the first to react. He shoved past Spencer and kicked the door open. The light had disappeared and everything was dark. The sergeant limped in behind Cooper, running into him just inside the doorway.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” he clumsily apologized. “The explosion must have knocked out the power,” he said as he flipped the light switch on the wall to no avail.

  The lieutenant took out a small flashlight and Spencer followed suit. The two circles of light traversed the room and stopped on the patient’s bed, which to their surprise was completely empty. The tubes that had been hooked up to the patient were hanging over both sides of the bed onto the floor and a constant, loud beep was coming from the machine that had previously been emitting short beeps in rhythm with the patient’s heartbeat. The room was frigidly cold.

  “What the fuck happened here?” thundered Spencer, unhooking the machine to put an end to the annoying beeping. “Did he disintegrate in the explosion?”

  “I don’t think that’s what happened. Look.”

  Spencer looked where Cooper’s flashlight was pointing and was stunned into silence. There was a perfect circle in the middle of the wall. It was big enough for an adult male to pass through without touching the sides, and it would have provided an easy exit for the scraggly man that had been lying in the bed just moments before. The sergeant could see the building across the street through the hole and felt the cold night air flooding the room. He noticed the smell of something scorched, lifted the sheet and shone his flashlight on the bed. The contour of the patient’s body was drawn perfectly into the linens with a trail of ashes that were giving off a strange, reddish light.

  “I don’t think the security cameras are going to tell us what happened here,” proclaimed Cooper from the other side of the room.

  “Why not?” Spencer asked. He hadn’t thought of those but it seemed reasonable that they would have recorded what happened.

  “Because they’re destroyed,” explained the lieutenant, shining his flashlight on a jumble of cords and metal that he was holding in his free hand.