Owen was aware for the first time that he was completely and fully conscious. His eyes were open, ears were wide, and brain was sharp. Owen was feeling a lot better than he could remember ever having felt whilst being stuck in this room, aside from the minor headache that was pulsing through the back of his brain.
“I believe you have suffered some kind of… psychotic break from your accident,” the doctor explained to him slowly. “The police interviewed several people from the scene of the crash and not one of them report seeing a man with any sort of weapon. Do you understand me Mr Archer?”
This time, Owen didn’t try and reply with words. Instead, he just nodded his head, attempting to save his own strength.
“Now. I'm going to run some tests on you, to make sure that the crash didn’t cause any permanent brain damage. You’re going to be here for a while, Mr Archer, so get comfortable. We have a lot of questions we need to ask you.”
Owen understood everything that he was hearing, but at the moment, all he could think about was Annie. Why haven't they told me how she's doing? Why are we not sharing a private room together?
“Annie,” Owen managed to say, speaking just that one word, letting the doctor know that he desperate for an answer.
“Mr Archer… Your wife…” the doctor said slowly, as he sat still at the side of Owen's bed. “I don’t know how to tell you this sir.” He started to shake his head from side to side slowly, before looking Owen dead in the eye. “She didn’t make it.”
Chapter Twenty Two
Date: December 9th 2035
Location: Wilson Place Hospital, New York
There was a rap at the door as someone knocked several times in quick succession, snapping Owen’s consciousness back into the present and out the memory of what had happened a few weeks back. Archer quickly wondered how long he had been stood there daydreaming, and as he looked at the room around him, he saw that Nick and Kate had pretty much set all of the portable PRoGRaM equipment up. He really must have been staring into oblivion for some time.
Whoever it was that was knocking at the door let themselves straight in without waiting for an answer from Owen or his team. Easily in his mid-to-late forties, with a full head of short greying hair and some stubble around the lower half of his face, the man that had entered the room was clearly a doctor of some stature. He dressed smartly, wearing a standard white doctors coat over the top of an admittedly plain shirt and tie, whilst underneath his arm he carried around a huge amount of paperwork.
“Good afternoon,” he announced to everyone as he walked in and closed the door behind him. He looked quickly at each of the three agents that stood before him, and took an even longer time staring at some of the equipment that Nick and Kate had set up in the background of the room. Knowing full-well that he wouldn’t get any answers about the equipment if he were to actually ask about it, he decided to just drop it there and then.
“I’m Doctor Raybould,” he said as he exchanged handshakes with everyone in the room, professionally yet quickly. “I’ll get right to the point and I wont waste your time. I’m afraid you will not be able to talk to Marcus Ortega. Not today. Not anytime soon.”
He spoke deeply, talking mainly to Owen who stood out in front of Nick and Kate. He was obviously a very busy man, and Owen respected that. This man needed to be out there in the hospital, looking after his patients. Not stood in here making small talk with FBI Agents. He was glad that the doctor went straight to the point. Owen wasn’t one for small talk anyway, and never had been. All that he wanted was answers. They were the only thing that he came here for.
“What’s his condition?” Owen asked the doctor, keeping it professional and quick.
“He’s alive. Barely ,” Doctor Raybould replied, staring directly into Owen’s eyes as he spoke, putting emphasis on the
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