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"I mean, we've been after this arsehole for years," the medic went on, enjoying himself now, I thought. "Chased him up and down the timeline. Lost a hell of a lot of good people to his meddling. And Mouse comes along, could melt butter in her mouth, you could, and she takes him out with one well-placed shot. Bloody brilliant! They'll be talking about this at RATS for years."
"You're fired!" Anderson spluttered.
"Only medic left," the medic told him. "Haven't replaced Dr Rider yet. Good riddance to him and the horse he rode in on. You fire me, you're out any and all medical assistance. Don't think that's a good idea, do you?"
"Who the hell are you to tell me what to do?" Anderson screeched. I winced at the decibel level.
"Jones," the medic said, finishing up with whatever he was doing to Bryan. "Davy Jones. Yeah, I know, my mother had a sense of humour. God bless her. Chief Medic. Well, the only medic. Like I said, Ivanov's responsible for a lot of our dead."
"Ivanov?" Anderson said. "You mean Sergei Ivanov?"
"Been trying to tell you that. Not a soul in this building, save you lot, don't know this man's face. Some of them know him better than that, even. He's been a thorn in RATS' side since not long after time travel was invented. You want to know more about him, then go ask the acting Chief Surgeon. Jack Evans used to call Sergei Ivanov a friend."
I glared at the medic. He ignored me, too.
"Now, if you don't mind," he said. "I'd like to get my patient to the infirmary. Dr Wylde needs to spend a stint in there, too. Best you let her get the medical attention she needs, or you'll find yourself in breach of several health and safety regs."
"What about my men?" Anderson barked.
"I untied them, didn't I?" the medic said.
"Do they need treatment in the infirmary?"
"Stuffed if I know, mate. I haven't checked."
And then he promptly activated a floating gurney he'd had situated under Fawkes and had it follow him from the Vehicle.
"That man is an absolute menace. In breach of health and safety regulations, indeed!"
I stared at Sergei Ivanov and said nothing. I wasn't sure how to feel about him being dead. Jones had been right. He'd been a thorn in our sides for longer than I'd been here. But he was ultimately responsible for everything that had happened to me since Cape Canaveral. Carrie dead. My parents drowned in St Petersburg. The alternate Wylde Family being sucked into our universe. Not to mention my friend, the original Bryan Fawkes, murdered when Sergei stole our Orions.
I'd grieved more people than could be considered normal since I'd got here. All because of this man lying dead in front of me. This man, who I had killed with one well-placed shot from my gun.
"Tell me something, Dr Wylde," Anderson said, drawing me back to my surroundings again. "Did Sergei Ivanov storm the Orion?"
I must have been still suffering from a concussion because I answered without giving his question and soft tone of voice a thought. I should have known better. Jack had taught me better than this.
But what I said was, "We ran into him on the stairs."
Still vague, but now he'd caught the scent of blood in the waters, he was circling like a shark.
"The stairs to the Orion? Was the door opened?"
"There was a glitch," I said, still focusing on Sergei's body. Still seeing my twin sister's happy face as she pranced across Launch Pad 39A in my mind's eye. "The Orion's door opened," I added.
"Who opened the door, Dr Wylde?"
"Don't know. Not us."
"What happened next?"
"Black went to close it. But then we shifted planes."
"Shifted planes?"
"Became visible to any contemporaries."
"Who shifted planes?"
