Hey guys, yeah, as you can see Gwen and Reine are not really in the best of terms with each other, so this chapter would be a quick glance why...

"So here it is, your assignment."

Reine took the folder that was offered to her and flipped it open. "Oakbrook General?"

"Yes. There has long been a suspicion that someone in Oakbrook is involved in an organ trafficking ring."

"But it's a decently equipped hospital. They even have a Level 1 trauma centre, right?"

"That doesn't mean everyone there doesn't have the incentive to do so, my dear." Her boss replied with a smile. "In any case, you seem to be suitable to this task. Make good use of your medical degree."

"Well, I'd rather think FBI paid for my medical school tuition to prepare me for this mission."

"Bingo! As expected from you! But anyways, medical degree is handy. It helps you to gain trust in covert mission."

"I can't agree more." Reine nodded. "Helping is the first step to gain trust. And even when you're infiltrating enemy's base, medical profession gives you the edge."

"Smart girl."

Reine flipped through the information quickly. "So is this a solo mission?"

"You'll go there alone tomorrow,"

"You think too highly of me, Helena."

"Believe in yourself more, Special Agent Reine Kreiss. You have what it takes."

With Helena's cheerful and reassuring voice echoing in her mind, Reine walked back to the party. Truth to be told, she didn't expect to meet Gwen here since they had never kept in touch since Reine accepted Helena's offer to be an agent. She remembered their second last conversation—if the earlier one in the emergency staircase was counted—nine years ago.

"Are you crazy?!"

"Because I wanted to," she replied simply. "Well, I had no problem you rejecting the offer three years ago, then I think you shouldn't have any problem of me accepting it."

Gwen was horrified by her nonchalant reply. "Is it because they'll pay for your medical school tuition?"

"Do I seem to be that desperate? No, Gwen."

"Then why—?!"

"I believe Helena spoke to you about it as well, Gwen." Reine replied, "About Mom—"

"Fine. Whatever, Reine." Gwen interjected. "If you want to be some kind of a hero, do it. I don't care."

That night, Reine packed her bag and left their family house. And she never looked back.

The first three years, Reine still sent Gwen cards for Easters, birthdays, Thanksgivings and Christmases. There never was a reply from her elder sister, but the last blow came on the fourth year when her Easter card was returned since Gwen had moved out from the house.

Reine tried to call her phone, but the service was cut off. And that was the end of any semblance of communication between them. So, she really didn't expect to find Gwen in this hospital.

Her primary suspect would be the Surgery Department—the department with the greatest access, and need, for organs. That meant Gwen would be included in the suspect list.

"Are you the new internist?" a voice asked.

Reine raised her head and found a surgeon with dark red hair and icy blue eyes, framed with rectangular spectacles with rounded edges. He smiled at her in a friendly, if not slightly flirtatious smile. "Hey, you look a lot like Gwen. Almost like twins, if not for your hair."

He called her… Gwen? Must be a close friend of hers.

"I'm her sister." Reine replied quickly.

The surgeon smiled and put a sassy hand on his hip. "Allen Rosencrantz. Feel free to consult me if you think your bust needs a bit of inflation, or your butt for that matter."

"Uh, no, thanks. I'm quite satisfied with my size."

Allen laughed before he put a hand on his chin like the Thinker position. "Come to think of it, you have a good proportion." He said, smirking, "Be glad, I just complimented you."

Reine raised her eyebrow, "Frankly, I don't care. But thanks anyway."

"Drinks after work? There's a good place nearby."

"No, thanks." Reine replied flatly.

Soon, another surgeon approached them and he smiled at Reine. "I heard there's another Kreiss here." He said, "Hey, I'm Mark! And you look a lot like Guinevere!"

"Reine Kreiss," Reine introduced herself with a smile. "Words spread like disease here, huh?"

"Well, Guinevere never said anything about having a sister, so you created quite a buzz." Mark replied, "And she's one helluva of a peds!"

Reine indeed noticed that Gwen's tag earlier identified her department as Pediatric Surgery. "Oh, really?"

"Yup! One of the best!"

Reine managed to smile. "I see…"

"You're an internist, right? I hope to work with you soon!" Mark said cheerfully. "I'm a general surgeon, by the way."

Suddenly, the three of them felt something was vibrating in their pockets—their pagers. They took it out at the same time and their eyes widened before they made a mad dash to the ER on the first level.

"ER never rests, huh?" Mark managed to joke.

"If he decided to page, this must be a storm."

When they reached the ER, it was already flooded with staff and waves of patients. The doctors there were mostly interns and residents since most of the attending surgeons or physicians were at the lunch party.

"What happened?" Mark asked, pulling one of the interns.

"Food poisoning in an elementary school, a car crash, and a barbeque grill exploded during backyard camp."

"Dahell…" Mark muttered. He then turned at the nurse who was behind the desk, "Postpone all afternoon elective surgeries scheduled today to evening. We'll have a marathon."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I love burns. It fires me up." Allen remarked sarcastically as he took a pair of latex gloves and put them on.

Meanwhile, Reine ran over to the non-surgical section of the ER. She could hear the moaning and groaning through the curtains that acted as a separator between beds; she even heard someone vomiting. She ran to a nurse nearby. "Let me see the charts."

She was soon given five different charts which she immediately skimmed through. "Any more coming?" she asked while reading the second chart.

"Yes, they're on their way."

Reine looked across the room. "Okay, we'll deal with this precise and presto."

It was crazy. As soon as one person could be moved up to a room, another came in. Sometimes, two people came up when they had just transferred one. Twenty minutes into the 'race', two more internists came to help, so it wasn't as bad, but Reine did most of the work, running between beds and doing the preliminary checks before she cleared them for a transfer with a treatment plan that she quickly jot down on the chart.

Finally, after what she counted as her thirteenth patient that she cleared for a transfer, the inflows stopped and she could take a breather. "No more charts?" she asked the nurse, just to make sure.

"No, doc. Thanks for the hard work." The nurse replied with a smile. "You were amazing! You treated the most patient and with such precise instructions."

"That was nothing."

Reine then walked to an empty corner of the ER and sat on the floor while leaning her head against the wall. She had learned early in her life that she couldn't ever forget what she had seen, no matter how brief it had been. Since erasing the memories were impossible, she learned to put her thoughts in 'boxes' in her head and close the boxes for future reference—if she ever needed it again. She closed her eyes as she began to put her newest memories into these boxes when she suddenly heard someone calling out, "Prepare Trauma Room 1!"

Then the sound of gurney rolling on the floor followed. Reine opened her eyes and noticed a new face—a surgeon not present in the earlier lunch.

His messy golden blond hair was a bit drenched with perspiration as he ran down the ER with the gurney. And from where she sat down, she could see a pair of sharp violet eyes that exuded a weight of confidence and conviction.

She rose and walked to Trauma Room 1 and peeked through the window.

It was a bloody scene—many scenes in trauma rooms were, anyway. And it was chaotic with many panicking interns and an even madder race against the clock if the patient was not breathing upon arrival.

This time, the patient was bleeding near his abdomen, and he was already flat-lining. "Prepare a defibrillator!"

She then saw him reaching for a needle—probably size 13 or 14—as well as thread. As she was facing his back, she couldn't actually see him suturing, but she could see his hand came up in an interval of a second or so and he managed to stitch the 5 cm wound in less than eight seconds.

What the—

"Pretty cool, huh?"

Reine turned around and saw Mark was standing over him. "Neil Forrester, our Head of Trauma. The interns call him O'Scary."

"Huh?"

Suddenly, Mark pulled her aside and soon, the patient was being wheeled out. "Prepare OR 1 and page someone from cardio!" Neil commanded. It seemed to Reine that the man didn't even notice her presence. Not that she cared.

"That was close." Reine said, "Thanks, Mark."

Mark laughed, "No problem! Anyway, yeah, that's Neil for you. He wouldn't stop if you're in his way. Most probably he'll shout at you to 'get outta my way' and chew you inside out. He scares the hell out of many people."

"Can feel that." Reine replied. "You don't have any surgery?"

"Oh, nothing interesting. I leave that up to the residents." Mark grinned. "Perks of being in general surgery: you have the most number of residents to throw your load to."

They laughed together for a moment before Mark said, "I heard the nurses were singing praises for you. Congrats for your first day."

"That was nothing," Reine replied. "I just did what I could, really."

"Hey, but treating thirteen food poisoning patients in two hours were spectacular!" Mark insisted. "Let me treat you for a drink after your shift!"

This was the second time someone asked her for drinks. "No, it's okay."

"Coffee at the cafeteria?" he insisted.

Reine sighed. Maybe it wasn't so bad; the closer she was to the Surgery Department, the easier would be for her to gather the info about this organ trafficking thing. "Just coffee, okay?"

Mark grinned. "Sure thing! Let's go!"

And that's for her first day at work.

Stay tuned for the next update!

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