Chapter 10: A Man of Action, A Man of Words
[FROLO]
Outside the hospital room, security had been lined up.
The hospital guards were on their knees, and the police who had been called for reinforcements stood on the side, with guns pointed at them as if to dare them to make a move and see what would happen.
The doctors who had rushed to the aid of their friends lined up against the wall opposite the door to the VIP room, like they too were waiting for a fate they had not yet known.
It was chaotic, but what could be noted was the ultimate silence in that particular hallway of Aslava hospital.
No one there was saying a word or even trying to breathe wrong, even as the other hallways stayed busy, with whispers of the devil of Frolo being in the hospital. It was the kind of thing that no one experiences on a daily basis.
A few hallways away, a shaken hospital director stood, unsure of the course of action to take. The devil of Frolo was not just anyone. He was the man who could buy their lives and end them just because he didn’t like the way someone was dressed.
And that was not the kind of man to play with, because there was no denying that Russian roulette was a game Sergei thrived in.
"Sir, what do we do?" the Frolo army asked, like they needed direction. It was interesting how that battalion had been dispatched to the hospital even when everyone knew this was useless.
But perhaps hope was needed.
The hope that even though Sergei was here, the army was all here. That the Frolo army could do what the guards and police couldn’t. And it should have been that simple, really. Because in extreme cases, the government always deployed its best.
However, who was to best Sergei Moskowsky in a hospital filled with leverage for him? Who was to try anything when the man could bring it all down in an instant?
Or maybe they didn’t have to figure it out. But what the hell, no?
"He is Sergei Moskowsky. You can’t. If he comes out and sees you here, I will be putting so many people in danger. Besides, his men are all over, and we don’t even know what they look like.
"Some are fused in as patients, as staff. This is an unwinnable situation. We just have to wait. Besides, no more gunshots have been heard again," the hospital director, Mr. Maksim, said to the officer who was talking to him.
They both knew how volatile everything was and how that man could ruin it all.
But then they also had to stay for some reason because leaving the hospital because of Sergei was not just a safety precaution, but it also sent the message that Sergei was above the law.
Above the enforcers of the law.
And that was something that the government couldn’t have.
But would they ever be able to contain this?
"What do you suppose happened?" the officer asked, and Maksim told them of the happenings of the day.
From the moment Sergei came in earlier, to when he was displaced from his office, to the gunshots in the VIP room, and the patient the devil of Frolo was so interested in.
Maybe that was going to help the officers.
Maybe that was going to make it easier.
But what was the certainty then?
"What is his relationship to the patient?" the officer asked.
And for a moment, Maksim turned to look around his hospital. The scared patients. The terrified staff. The children who were hurdled in their mothers’ arms and the husbands who were antsy and ready to lay their lives down for their families.
Maksim knew it then.
He understood.
He didn’t even need to spell it out. Because it was right there. In his own retelling of the one thing that had gotten the hospital to a standstill. Of the one man who had managed to fuck things up and scare everyone.
"You need to leave," the director said to the officer who stared at him as if he had very well lost his mind.
Maybe he had.
Maybe everyone here had lost their mind because who even shot someone within a hospital with delicate patients?
"What?" the officer asked.
His fellow men were wearing the same shocked face.
They were the reinforcements.
They had been trained red for hostage situations in worse places. They had been readied for people like Sergei and what they did with their power.
But honestly, had they been readied for the man himself?
For Sergei Moskowsky?
"We came here to help and were not leaving until the situation is sorted," the officer said with the determination of a man who had been to wars, seen worse, and won most of them.
But director Maksim...
He wasn’t into that.
Because his hospital was not a war zone, even if it seemed like that at the moment.
Perhaps that was why the director insisted.
"All our staff are accounted for. He waited. He didn’t force anything. He didn’t fight us. Only stopped the people at the door.
"You guys need to leave before he sees you," the director said shakily, like he had finally unlocked the one aspect of life that they needed to embrace and understand what Sergei Moskowsky was doing in the hospital.
Or maybe it was because she had so much to lose than just a hospital.
His conscience wouldn’t let him be if he sacrificed all of these people for something that he, too, was unaware of.
It was insane, really, but what else was there to be done other than wait it out and hope to the gods that this was not something that would escalate fast?
"You can’t be serious, Director Maksim," the officer said, trying to make the director see sense.
But what use was that against Sergei Moskowsky?
"I am. Take your men. And leave. If you have already surrounded the building, leave. There are too many risk factors, and there is nothing that you or I can do to understand what is going on on the other side of that hospital room.
"Before Mr. Moskowsky comes out. You need to go," the director said, kicking the man out.
Everyone watched in silence and fear.
They didn’t know what the director was hoping to gain by this, but any little commotion could get Mr. Moskowsky’s attention. That was not the kind of thing that the director wanted.
"Director..." the officer said, right as footsteps were heard coming in the direction of the hallway that was meant to be cleared.
As if on instinct, the officers readied themselves with their guns. Like that was going to save them.
Still, something had to give, no?
"D... Don’t shoot," a nurse was heard saying, but the guns stayed pointed.
Like an attack was imminent.
As the hallways quieted, as everyone held their breath to see what was coming, praying for this not to get any worse, the footsteps advanced.
One set and a wheeler.
Then shadows lingered.
And finally...
A nurse covered in blood.
And with her was the most unexpected of patients on the wheel.
Yaroslav Gamov.
And boy did he look like shit.
"Mr. Gamov?" the director asked as he stared at the unconscious, bleeding man with a note slapped on his forehead.
The officer he had been trying to get to leave was still standing there like the gravity of the situation was lost on him, and honestly, it was unsettling to an extent.
Because at the end of the day, if ever they even got there, they would all have to face Mr. Moskowsky in one way or another.
"Check what the note says," the officer insisted. He needed to know if this was a worse state or if this was a truce.
It was almost stupid to think of it like that because there was still no hostage situation. But then again, wherever Sergey Moskowsky was, everyone was bound to be collateral damage.
Sighing, director Makssim stepped forward to check the note out.
"Fix him. Throw the ear away... Or not. But he must not be treated here. If he does, the hospital will be down in ten minutes," the note read.
"H... He gave me a timer," the nurse said, pointing to the timer on her arm, reading seven minutes, before she fell to the floor, unconscious.
