The Royal Contract

Ben had to use a different surname when asked about his identity. He should not have given his name in the first place, but he was still dazed by the drugs at that time.

However, he had a contingency in cases as such. He had some backup plan in tight situations and moments like this. He always came prepared for any circumstances he might encounter when on a mission.

"Are you sure that is all the information you can provide for us?" The police who came to see him asked the question.

The two police officers stood at the edge of his bed, getting his statement about the incident that happened to him. It was a standard procedure in most countries for gunshot wounds to be reported.

They tandem kept looking at each other as they assessed his statement. Maybe they were trying to figure out whether he was indeed telling the truth. After all, he was a foreigner in their land.

"I think that is most of what I remember." He told the police officers who were handling his case.

He already knew that the incident would be investigated, so he had requested the police immediately. In that way, they would not suspect that he was hiding anything else, throwing them off from the truth.

He had concocted some story to mislead the police away from the actual scene. He had made up a lie about being robbed and dumped on the field where the boy found him.

It was a usual crime in this part, so his story was not out of the ordinary. The police would not suspect anything amiss from his narrative as long as he did not give them a reason to do so.

"Just to put your story straight. You are here for a vacation. You just arrived yesterday when some men took your things at gunpoint." The first police stated, repeating what he said for confirmation.

When he nodded in agreement, he continued. "When you tried to get your passport, one of the men shot you. It was the time that you tried to run away. Luckily, the boy found you."

When he verified that everything was correct, the officers started explaining the procedure of the case. They told him they would run his identification to the system.

Then, they would investigate the crime scene to find any evidence that would collaborate with his story. If everything checked out, then they would continue with the investigation.

"I hope that we can resolve this issue soon. Thank you, Officers, for helping me out." He confirmed the statement he had just given and thanked the officers who responded to his case.

He would offer his hand to shake theirs, but his body was still very sore. Moving was still an effort he could not afford. "I will shake your hands, but it is still painful." He smiled at them, gesturing to his wounds with his fingers.

"Then, we will let you rest now. We will come back as soon as we have a lead." The other police officer said. "In case you remember something, don't hesitate to call."

The police officer handed him a card with a name and a number. Then, they thanked him for his cooperation as they walked out of the door, leaving him alone in his room.

"Thank you again, Sir." He said before they were out of his sight. It would seem that they had not suspected anything amiss from his story. But he still needed to be prepared.

Fortunately, the small town he landed in was not equipped with high-tech equipment and facilities. The police still needed to manually check on his credentials.

That would at least give him enough duration to formulate a plan in case his extraction had not arrived yet by the time they returned.

He only hoped that his team would come soon enough before the officers came back with the result of their investigation. He had no problem if the police found his story bogus. They could lock him up in a cell.

But if the people who wanted him dead learned of his whereabouts, then it was a different story. The police station might be crawling with moles and rats that would sell his location for a price.

"Fuck!" He shouted when he tried to move his body and get out of bed. He twisted in pain and heavily breathed as he tried to recover.

The drug that the boy injected him was starting to wear off. He could feel his muscles move again, but likewise the excruciating pain of his injuries.

But he could not lie down and wait for rescue. He had to figure out what to do if his team did not arrive on time. He looked around for anything he could use as a weapon, just in case he would need one.

"Sir, you should not be moving." A female nurse came inside his room in a rush to stop him. "Your wounds are still fresh. It might bleed again if you keep forcing your body to move."

She helped him back into his position, leaning back again on the pillows. She checked the bandages, looking if his movements caused any bleeding. Thankfully, his wounds appeared to be intact.

"Can you give me some pain medication? It is starting to hurt like hell." He asked the nurse, hoping it would help him with his movement.

He could not stay like a sitting duck in this hospital, knowing that trouble was coming. He had no idea where his team was. Most importantly, he had no clue if his enemies were already outside looking for him.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but you already had some pain medication, and I can't give you more." The nurse informed him. She continued to check on his vitals before leaving the room again.

"By the way, your father called while you were sleeping. He wanted you to know that he is on his way with your family." She stopped on her way out, suddenly remembering the message.

"Did he say anything else?" He wished he was able to talk to him. It would give him a clear idea of their plan. Still, he was thankful that they were already coming.

"I don't know. That was all the doctor told me. She was in a hurry because of another surgery. Maybe I will ask her again once she comes by." The nurse smiled at him before leaving his room.

It gave him a little peace of mind that his team was on the way. But it did not mean that he should slack his guard. They still might be a few minutes away or hours.

There was still every possibility that those responsible for the abduction were still looking for him. He had to be prepared for them if they ever came to finish the job.

"Damn." He tried to turn on his side, but it took all his energy to accomplish this slight movement.

This would not have happened, he thought, if Tim was not injured. He should have been the one on the plane with the couple.

Tim would have known that there was something wrong with the crew. But he was not giving up. He would make up for his mistake.

He had been injured before, and he survived. He just needed a little push to pump up his adrenaline.. Then, it would help him numb the pain, and then he would be good to go again.

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