November, 2006: Day 1

Beep… Beep…. Beep... The noise was slow and steady but somehow sweat was already falling down my face. The lights were too hot, but they were necessary to carry on. Flashes of blue passed around me, yelling at each other about amounts and instruments. I was in my zone though, the place I had to keep my mind when everything else was utter chaos. I couldn't hear, almost couldn't breathe. Just pure focus on the person in front of me.

"Forceps." I said. The metal object was handed over to me. I had to get a handle on it or it may slip out of my hands due to the blood on them. Inserting the tool into the incision, I clamped the metal down onto another piece of metal. Slowly, I pulled the small bead strait up, and moved it to my right, where there was a tray waiting for me. This poor guy had been hit with some nasty buckshot.

I inserted the forceps into the body again, this time looking for a small fragment of bone. The assistant next to me moved a few tools around to pull the skin apart, allowing for me to have a better view. And there it was, the small spec of white that I was looking for.

I clamped down on it with the forceps and brought it back to the tray on my side. Turning around, I set the bloody forceps down on the table. I started looking for the next tools I would need. I picked up the stint and turned my attention back to the patient. "I'm going to need four screws with this." I said.

"Wilson, how are you doing?" Someone asked. The other surgeon was working on removing the other bullets from the patients chest region. I didn't have time to listen to his reply because four screws on a metal tray were brought to me. I positioned the stint to line up between the two halves of the bone. "Hold." I asked. Another gloved hand held the stint in place as I put my hand out.

"Drill." The machine was placed into my right hand and I lowered it down to the patient's bone. The bit of the drill went though the hole of the stint perfectly. Gently, I pulled back on the trigger of the drill and it burrowed into the bone. It seemed to take a long time, but I knew I was going as quickly as I could.

All four holes were drilled and I began to screw in the bolts that would hold the patient's bone together. "The patient's heart rate is increasing." I managed to hear. The anesthesiologist would handle it.

I was about to screw in the last bolt when I heard shouting. A hand obstructed my view and pushed me back away from the patient. My focus was broken and my drill almost fell on the floor. The patient's body jolted on the table as someone placed the paddles on his chest. Cardiac arrest.

I didn't notice that the beeping had stopped. My eyes glanced up to the monitors above our heads. His heart rate was still just a line. "Clear!" Someone shouted and shocked the patient again. This time the beeping resumed. It was a little sporadic still, but he was alive once again. I could swear that everyone sighed at that moment.

I didn't waste my time returning to work. The last screw was in and the drill was taken away. Turning around, I grabbed the last thing I would need. Stiches. It was a long incision along his leg, and it was very deep. I decided on a type of stich and began to sew up his thigh. I worked quickly knowing that the patient would be more stable once us surgeons stopped poking his body with things.

The last stich was complete and I backed away from the patient. I sat the item down on the table so it could be counted with the rest. Wilson was already done with his work; they were just waiting for me. Which was okay, trying to fix the largest bone in the human body was far from easy.

Wilson and I exited the operating room along with most of the team. The rest would put the patient back up in intensive care. Pulling off my gloves, I tossed them in the trashcan. I leaned up against the wall and allowed myself to breathe. "I don't know how you do it, Carter." Wilson said as he washed his hands.

Turning my head, I realized I should be doing the same thing. "Do what?" I asked. I was finally beginning to feel like a normal person again. "How you stay so damn calm. Even if the patient is going to die on us, you're just so calm." I let out a laugh. "Well, I get in the zone I guess." Wilson laughed too and left the room.

I tossed my shoe covers and apron thing away in the biohazard bin and exited into the hallway. It was a little less chaotic than the operating room, or at least for now. Glancing at my wrist, I saw it was already four o'clock. Six hours of intense surgery. I headed towards the bathroom. I at least had to make it there before I was called out to operate again.

"Dr. Carter!" I heard a voice shout at me. I debated whether or not to stop, but ultimately I did. "Please, I just got out of a major surgery." Turning around, I saw it was none other than Martha. She was my nurse and a close friend.

"Go then, but there are two people in your office that want to meet with you." I made a face. "That's odd. Higher ups?" I asked. She looked about as confused as I did. "They were in suits, so maybe. They just wanted to meet with you after you got out of surgery." Meeting with higher ups wasn't bad, unless someone was trying to sue me. Again. "Okay, I'll be right up."

I made my way out of the bathroom and towards my office, still puzzled on why two higher ups wanted to speak with me. I was hoping they were not here telling me someone was suing or they were letting me go. When people die, they want someone to blame, and it typically is one of the surgeons that worked on the patient.

I pulled the door handle and entered the office. Well, here goes nothing. "Hello," I said, startling the two men. One was browsing my bookcase whilst the other was scanning over document on my desk. It was certainly odd, but I didn't say anything because they can kind of fire me. "Take a seat," I said. I certainly was, I hadn't sat down in hours.

"What can I do for you two?" I asked after neither of them said anything immediately. "We were wondering if we could speak with Dr. Carter." The shorter, blonde one said at last. Both were at least a foot taller than me though, but one was a few inches shorter than the other. One blonde, one with brown hair. "That's me." I replied. "If this is about the patient last month, I am sorry for the inconvenience the family may be causing."

The two men looked at each other, and then back at me. "The injuries they sustained were beyond repair." I explained. "I did the best that I could, but by the time the patient got here there was too much damage, too much lost blood. We did everything." It broke my heart when patients passed, especially when I could do nothing about it.

"Uh, m'am, I believe you have us mixed up with someone else." I took a sip of the water bottle on my desk. "We're from the FBI. Agent Kapplan and he's Agent McAlister." The taller one said. Both pulled out badges and I felt pretty foolish. "Oh, so I'm not being sued?" I asked.

They exchanged looks between themselves again. "Not that we know of." Kapplan replied. "We just need to ask you a few questions about a patient under your care, doctor." Agent McAlister asked.

I took another sip of water and turned my computer monitor on. I typed in my ID number to log onto the hospital's system. "I'd be happy to help. Last name?" I asked. "Hilston." McAlister said. I typed the last name into the system and it brought up the file of my patient. "Oh, yes, Mr. Hilston."

I turned my chair back to face the two agents. "I actually just treated him this week. What do you want to know?" I asked. "Did he have any…unusual injuries? Anything at this point that you can tell us will help." Agent Kapplan asked.

"Well, he was stabbed, which isn't totally uncommon. It didn't hit any major organs that I know of." I was interrupted by McAlister. "That you know of?" He sounded surprised. "Didn't you know, like operate on him?" His partner glared at him, but I laughed. "I'm an orthopedic trauma surgeon. I focus on bones." I explained. "Common misconception."

Agent Kapplan still looked angry, his jaw rather tense. "So, what did you do then?" McAlister asked. "Well," I began. "His shoulder was dislocated, he had some damage to his right wrist joint, and his knee was messed up pretty bad, like someone kept kicking him there. He looked like he had been in a pretty bad fight." Agent McAlister was scribbling down the information on his notepad. "When was he discharged?" Kapplan asked.

I began to laugh again. "He's in the CCU. He's doing all right, but he lost a lot of blood. I operate on him again this Thursday." McAlister almost dropped his pen. "He's still here?" He asked. The two men looked alarmed. "Yeah, my kinds of patients usually spend a lot of time here recovering."

"May we meet with the patient?" Kapplan asked. It was my turn to give them an odd look. "He's still under anesthesia, so he can't talk or anything." Patients under a lot of pain will be kept sedated. Then once they have healed up, they are taken off those drugs. "We still have to meet with the patient. Fed protocol." McAlister told me. Whatever makes them happy. "Sure, follow me."

The two agents walked onto the elevator with me and we traveled up to the third floor. "So, are you running an investigation on this guy?" I asked once we were inside. "Yeah." McAlister answered. "Just trying to piece together what exactly happened." The elevator dinged and we exited onto the third floor. I led them to the patient's room after asking a nurse what number he was in.

"Here's Mr. Hilston." I said, opening the door for them to enter the room. The two entered and looked around. He was hooked up to quite a few pieces of equipment. My pager vibrated on the waistband of my scrubs. Taking it out, I saw I was being called back to the ER.

"Well, that's my que, agents." I said. "If you have any other questions, you know where to find me." The two nodded. "Thank you for your time." Agent McAlister said.

I was about to exit the room before I remembered something about Mr. Hilston. "One more thing," I said, catching their attention. "He had really bad hemorrhaging in his eyes. So bad that they were almost black." The two men looked shocked. I took another step out the door before one of them spoke up.

"Where is your cafeteria? I haven't eaten since breakfast and I'm starving." Agent Kapplan asked. "This floor but to the left of the elevators." He gave a nod. "Thank you." And with that I rushed back down to see trauma awaited me.