Chapter 3 - The Deployment of the Grey Line
The men who stepped onto the white linoleum of the fourth-floor corridor did not wear the blue uniforms of the municipal police department or the grey blazers of the hospital’s private insurance detail. They were dressed in the uniform of the Maine National Guard’s tactical security element: dark grey utility fatigues, high-velocity ceramic chest plates, and insulated combat boots that left no scuff marks on the polished wax finish.
At the head of the file walked General Arthur Vance. He was seventy-four years old, his frame six feet three inches of un-stooped, weathered bone that looked like it had been carved out of northern white pine. He wore a simple, unadorned service dress uniform without the operational ribbons, but the four silver stars mounted on his shoulder epaulets caught the blue fluorescent light of the corridor with a clean, blinding clarity.
His hands were clasped behind his back, his fingers long and stained with the black walnut oil he used to preserve his utility tools. His eyes—the same pale, slate grey as mine—fixed on Daniel Hayes through the glass partition with an absolute lack of emotional expression.
"Sergeant Major," the General said, his voice carrying across the noise of the rooftop helicopter engines with the flat weight of an iron plate hitting an anvil. "Lock the sally port doors. No corporate personnel are to clear the floor level until the medical transport team has stabilized the incubators."
"Sir," Harrison replied, his hand moving to his side belt to activate the electronic block on the hospital’s master access panel.
Daniel stepped backward into the room, his back striking the edge of the secondary storage locker with a hollow, metallic clink. The charcoal wool of his vest looked suddenly thin, the tailored fabric wrinkling across his shoulder blades as he looked at the two armed guards who took their positions on either side of the incubator bay.
"General Vance," Daniel said, his voice rising by half an octave as he tried to adjust the gold link of his cuff. "This is a private medical facility. The Hayes Maritime Syndicate has an exclusive occupancy contract for the north pavilion wings. Your personnel are interfering with a civil legal settlement that has already been executed by your granddaughter."
The General did not look at Daniel's face. He walked straight to the center of the room, his boots making a heavy, rhythmic tock-tock against the tiles until he stood between my chair and the twin incubators. He reached down, his scarred index finger touching the glass wall of Lily's unit where her small, purple-tinted foot was moving against the sterile cotton liner.
"The weight is deficient, Audrey," he said, his voice dropping into the low, gentle register he had used when he was reading the winter forest logs to me in the cabin.
"Two pounds, four ounces, Grandpa," I said, my fingers closing around his wool sleeve. "Daniel has cleared the clearinghouse accounts. He canceled the insurance authorization at twelve o'clock."
The General turned his head by forty-five degrees, his slate-grey eyes settling on Rachel Morgan’s face. He looked at the ivory cashmere coat, his thumb tracking the line of the lapel seam with a slow, investigative frequency.
"The coat was constructed on the Vance looms at Fall River, young lady," the General said. "The material is registered under the federal agricultural trust as non-transferable domestic property. Remove it before the security detail clears your personal bags for the transport run."
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Rachel’s face turned the color of dry salt fish. "This is a custom purchase," she stammered, her fingers hooking into the pocket lining where the embroidered initials N.H. & L.H. were sewn into the silk. "Daniel gave it to me for the winter season."
"Daniel does not hold the timber rights to the Fall River mill, young lady," General Vance said, his hand signaling the Sergeant Major. "Harrison, take the coat. If the individual resists, enter her name into the federal registry under the 1917 Trading with the Enemy Act for the unauthorized retention of tactical agricultural inventory."
