The three medics in the patrol had had four partially and brutally dismembered bodies that morning so far. The guy with the goatee and singed moustache was at least still in one piece, even if some of his clothing was on fire. The medics had rolled him, smothered the flames and started with cardiac massage and mouth-to-mouth within ten seconds. The third one was already sprinting for the nearest outpost. A chopper pilot with scant regard for his personal safety saw to it that Henri Lenoir received his second massive electrical shock for the day, within four minutes. This one started the heart beating erratically instead of stopping it.
It was only later when the nurses in intensive care were removing Henri's clothes, something he would have far preferred to be conscious for, that someone found the notes in his top pocket.
When Miggy Tremelo arrived fifteen minutes later, he found out, in precise longhand, just what the largest group of survivors had been up to.
Milliken stared at the copies. "It can't be genuine. It simply can't."
Miggy Tremelo pursed his lips. "It may be hallucinations, but it certainly is a genuine recital of what he experienced. There is categoric proof. Lenoir was nowhere near the large group when he was snatched. Prior to that he cannot even have seen the paratroopers. He mentions them each by name, and describes them with remarkable clarity."
The phone rang. The hospital had, true to its word, called the moment Lenoir became conscious.
Henri Lenoir was sitting propped up against the pillows, being fussed over by three nurses in crisp whites. By the gleam in the Frenchman's eye he was already engaging in thoughts not at all in congruence with the ECG monitoring equipment, the IV drip, and oxygen mask.
"He's very weak," snapped the doctor. "His heartbeat is erratic. Try and keep it as brief as possible." She plainly had no intention of leaving the room of her celebrity patient. Doctors are allowed to be curious too.
Henri patted his doctor's hand avuncularly. She just happened to be titian-haired and more than slightly attractive. "Ah, Madeleine, my dear. Just a peck on the cheek from you, and my heart would beat more strongly. It would give an old man a reason to live."
Well, thought Tremelo, the guy certainly appeared to have his wits. "Dr. Lenoir—"
"Call me Henri. I have to your American familiarity become so accustomed in the last while."
He took a couple of panting breaths and continued. "I suppose you want to know about what happens within the pyramid. I will tell you. But first you must bring to me a bottle of Chateau Lafitte. From one of the great years." He went off in a paroxysm of coughing.
The doctor shook her head, angrily. "I utterly forbid it."
But Lenoir was determined. "One small taste will do me no harm, Madeleine, petit. Just one small taste, please."
Milliken, who had also come to the hospital, was a man of decision. He turned to one of his men. "Johnson. Get it for us, please."
Miggy thrust his hands into his pockets. "Do you think this is wise, Mr. Milliken? The doctor has advised against it."
"Professor Tremelo, I know the type. You'll get nothing out of him unless you go along with him. And this guy has definitely got all his marbles. We need that story out of him."
Henri chuckled weakly.
The doctor shooed them out.
Henri Lenoir held the glass with its perfect ruby liquid in one unsteady hand. He pulled aside the oxygen mask and straightened his goatee and mustachios with a practiced if shaky gesture. He pushed aside the attempt to put the mask back. "To nose this," he panted, "will do me more good than any oxygen. This is the bouquet of the very lifeblood of la belle France. Ah! Magnifique!"
It did indeed seem to do him good. His voice sounded stronger when he spoke again. "I am afraid, good gentlemen, that I have—how do you say it?—'pulled you on a fast one.' " He smiled. "The story you already have. She is exactly as I have written it down." He put the glass to his lips with a beatific expression on his pale face.
Henri Lenoir died for the second time. But the glass that fell to the floor was empty.