Tate — Venice, Italy
Ospedale Civile. Venice, Italy. April 16th. A nurse entered room 369 just before two o’clock in the morning, to administer the specified doses of antibiotics and painkillers. Before she left the room she woke the patient and turned him onto his side to check the bandages on his back.
“I have a message from Morita,” she whispered into the patient’s ear. Her English was flawless with only the slightest Italian accent.
“Morita?!”
“Shhh,” she said quietly to avoid drawing attention from the armed guards standing by the door.
Tate smiled even though it hurt to move his mouth.
“She wants you to know you’re in good hands,” whispered the nurse.
“I need to get out…”
“Shhh,” she said, again. “They’ll be transferring you tonight.”
Tate closed his eyes and smiled. This time he didn’t feel the pain.
“Buona notte,” the nurse said as she left the room.