"Clancy, Tom - Jack Ryan 02 - Patriot Games" - читать интересную книгу автора (Clancy Tom)

down as it had been the last time he awoke. He could now feel the place
where the IV catheter had been. Jack greedily sucked the water from the
straw. It was only water, but no beer ever tasted better after a day's
yardwork. "Thanks, pal."
"My name is Anthony Wilson. I'm supposed to look after you. You are in
the VIP suite of St. Thomas's Hospital. Do you remember why you're here,
sir?"
"Yeah, I think so," Ryan nodded. "Can you unhook me from this thing? I
have to go." The other reminder of the IV.
"I'll ring the sister -- here." Wilson squeezed the button that was
pinned to the edge of Ryan's pillow.
Less than fifteen seconds later a nurse came through the door and
flipped on the overhead lights. The blaze of light dazzled Jack for a
moment before he saw it was a different nurse. Not Bette Davis, this one
was young and pretty, with the eager, protective look common to nurses.
Ryan had seen it before, and hated it.
"Ah, we're awake," she observed brightly. "How are we feeling?"
"Great," Ryan grumped. "Can you unhook me? I have to go to the john."
"We're not supposed to move just yet. Doctor Ryan. Let me fetch you
something." She disappeared out the door before he could object. Wilson
watched her leave with an appraising look. Cops and nurses, Ryan thought.
His dad had married a nurse; he'd met her after bringing a gunshot victim
into the emergency room.
The nurse -- her name tag said KITTIWAKE -- returned in under a minute
bearing a stainless steel urinal as though it were a priceless gift, which
under the circumstances, it was, Ryan admitted to himself. She lifted the
covers on the bed and suddenly Jack realized that his hospital gown was
not really on, but just tied loosely around his neck -- worse, the nurse
was about to make the necessary adjustments for him to use the urinal.
Ryan's right hand shot downward under the covers to take it away from her.
He thanked God for the second time this morning that he was able, barely,
to reach down far enough.
"Could you, uh, excuse me for a minute?" Ryan willed the girl out of
the room, and she went, smiling her disappointment. He waited for the door
to close completely before continuing. In deference to Wilson he stifled
his sigh of relief. Kittiwake was back through the door after counting to
sixty.
"Thank you." Ryan handed her the receptacle and she disappeared out
the door. It had barely swung shut when she was back again. This time she
stuck a thermometer in his mouth and grabbed his wrist to take his pulse.
The thermometer was one of the new electronic sort, and both tasks were
completed in fifteen seconds. Ryan asked for the score, but got a smile
instead of an answer. The smile remained fixed as she made the entries on
his chart. When this task was fulfilled, she made a minor adjustment in
the covers, beaming at Ryan. Little Miss Efficiency, Ryan told himself.
This girl is going to be a real pain in the ass.
"Is there anything I might get you, Doctor Ryan?" she asked. Her brown
eyes belied the wheat-colored hair. She was cute. She had that dewy look.
Ryan was unable to remain angry with pretty women, and hated them for it.
Especially young nurses with that dewy look.