Rude Awakening

Dr. Isaac Wilbur was my advisor/mentor during my time at the State University of Gotham med school. The fall I got my M.D., he announced that he was going to be the Chief of Staff at the new St. Jude's Hospital in Century City. Establishing a hospital in that area of the city had been his dream for years. I decided to do my residency there. Not just because of Dr. Wilbur, but because my godfather, Frank Scanlon, lived there. At least I had someplace to stay until I saved up enough for my own apartment.

5 pm on Sunday, September 7th. I was excited for a well-deserved 72 hour furlough. All I wanted to do was play with my African Grey parrot, Hippocrates, fondly nicknamed Hippo. Unfortunately, I forgot that the first game of the season was on that day as well. I heard the television blaring as I walked through the door.

"Touchdown!" A loud squawking erupted from my bedroom. Hippo had been listening to the game too.

"You know bird, you're really lucky I love your owner." Frank shouted to my room.

"Too bad I can't use it for target practice." A male voice joked back.

I dropped my heavy duffle. It landed on the floor with a loud throwmp. "Hello! I'm home!" I called out as I kicked off my sneakers.

"Finally!" Uncle Frank called out as a whistle blew on the TV. I stepped into the living room. For the first time in weeks, Frank was dressed down; sweats with the blue Century Centaur logo emblazoned on the front of his sweatshirt and down his right pant leg. It was nice to see him relaxing. He had been occupied lately with the case of drug kingpin Hector "Butch" Manuel.

Sitting on the couch by Frank's Laze-E-Boy chair, was a black-haired man dressed in jeans and a faded West Point Military Academy t-shirt. They didn't notice me. "What? No, 'Hi Donnie, how was your 4th 14 hour shift this week'?" I went to the refrigerator and got out a cold can of Coke.

"Hey kiddo," Frank smiled at me. "Are you finally on furlough?"

"72 hours of freedom. Glory hallelujah." I slumped on the other side of the couch. "Who's playing?"

"Centaurs and Knights," Frank sipped some beer. "Speaking of which," he pointed to my S.U.G. Knights sweatshirt with a wry smile. "What is that doing in my house?"

I gave a mock gasp. "Well just a cotton-picking minute here. Just because you're showing support for your alma mater means I can't too? Or is it because their football teams are always at each other's throats?"

The man next to me laughed. I faced him. "Oh, hi." He smiled and crinkled his green eyes.

"Donnie, this is my friend Britt Reid. Britt, this is my goddaughter, Donnie Anders."

His name and face were familiar, but I couldn't remember why. It had something to do with the notorious criminal known as the Green Hornet. "A pleasure, call me Britt." Britt shook my hand. His grip was firm but warm. I liked him. "Frank tells me you're working for St. Jude's?"

I nodded, "I'm a first year intern." Finally it clicked. "You write the Green Hornet articles for The Daily Sentinel, don't you?"

"Nope, that's Mike Axford. I'm his boss, owner/publisher." Britt grabbed a handful of popcorn. "You haven't been in town long, have you?"

"I moved here last May; I won't be crashing forever."

"That's great," Frank said as he cleaned his thick horn rimmed glasses, "because your parrot is one noise away from being turned into dinner."

"Um, I told you he was going to be loud so you can't say that I didn't warn you. But anyway, a couple more weeks and I'll finally have my own apartment. I just want to get the deposit and two months' worth of rent before I move in."

"Funny you mention that." Britt tapped his knee absentmindedly. "Casey, my secretary, said something about looking for a roommate. If you want, I'll give her your name and number so you two can talk."

I was relieved. I felt awful for intruding on Uncle Frank. Especially considering that he was busy as the D.A. for the city. "Sure, I'll jot it down for you." Scrambling around, I found a pen in my pocket and began writing down my name and cell on a folded up scrap of paper towel. "I hope she doesn't hate parrots." I took a handful of popcorn.

"I don't think she'll mind as long as you tolerate her cat." Britt smiled as he took the torn paper towel.

"That's no big deal. Hippo hasn't figured out how to open his cage door…yet."

"Just promise me you won't turn her cat into a throw rug if Hippo becomes the main course." Britt winked at me. I playfully threw a few kernels of popcorn at him. Britt jokingly raised his arms in self-defense.

Uncle Frank's cell phone rang. "What now?" Frank moaned as he turned the volume down and answered the phone. "This is Scanlon."

"What's it like, running the Sentinel?" I took a sip of Coke. "I bet you meet all kinds of interesting people."

"It can be crazy some days. But yep, we've had our share of characters. And how's the hospital? I heard the shifts can be insanely long and clumped together."

"The hours are long, that's for sure. But the founders believe that a well-rested health care worker is an efficient health care worker so they make sure we get plenty of rest. And I love my job."

"Because you save lives?"

"Partially. I also like it because it's like a puzzle and we've get to be Sherlock Holmes and figure it out."

Uncle Frank hung up. He was quiet. Something was wrong. "Uncle Frank? What's wrong?" I asked.

"Is everything ok?" Britt leaned closer to Frank.

Frank took a deep breath. His thick glasses clouded any emotion. "Donnie, I have some bad news."

My stomach tightened. My parents lived in a rough part of Gotham. Not even the wealthy and influential Wayne family could escape its violence. "Is it Mom and Dad? Are they ok?"

"It's not them." He faced me. "Dr. Wilbur was shot in a botched robbery. He was pronounced D.O.A. at St. Jude's a little over a half-hour ago. I'm sorry, Donnie."


Britt watched the color leave Donnie's freckled face. Her bespectacled blue eyes widened. She inhaled shallowly. She was in shock. Instinct kicked in. "Hey Donnie, I'd like to meet Hippo, if that's ok." She nodded wordlessly. Britt passed Frank a look before following Donnie into her bedroom. Not only would this give her some breathing room but it would be a chance to get information. It might be the only way to find out or if there was something more to this.

For Britt Reid wasn't just the leader of the Sentinel. Nobody else could know that he was also the wanted criminal known as the Green Hornet. Only he, Casey, his valet Kato and Frank knew that Hornet was on the side of the law.

The small guest room was littered with piles of dirty laundry, a crumpled up bed and open moving boxes. A large wrought iron cage sat in the corner. Inside, a large grey parrot with red tail feathers watched them enter. It bobbed as Donnie walked to the cage door and opened it. "Hey Hippo, have you been a good bird for me?" the bird stepped on Donnie's wrist, his attention focused on Britt. "This is the cause of the ruckus. You can pet him if you want. He likes it when you scratch his head."

Britt did, keeping an eye on the bird's large black beak. "How old is he?" He was going to have to ease his way into this. Jumping into it right away could cause her to shut off.

"About five, I got him as a hatchling around the time I finished university." Hippo chewed on the dry ends of her braided auburn hair.

"How'd he get his name?"

"It's short for Hippocrates, as in Hippocratic Oath." Britt nodded. Donnie chuckled. "Wilbur teased me for being so obsessed with medicine that I named my own parrot after the founder."

"Were you close to Wilbur?" Hippo stepped on Britt's arm.

"Not personally. But he was the best teacher I've ever had. When I applied for residency, he vouched for me during the reviewing process." Donnie shook her head as she scratched the black beak. "I just can't believe he's gone." A pensive look crossed her face. "Especially giving how he was acting today."

Britt's ears perked up. This was getting interesting. "What do you mean by that?"

"He was…not happy, relieved is the best way I can describe it. He acted like a mountain had been taken off his shoulders. I was pleased to see him like that." She hesitated for a little bit. "There've been rumors that St. Jude's is in trouble. I would've brushed them off, if Wilbur hadn't been so obsessed with them. He always wanted to know if anybody had been talking about them. And when we tried asking him if they were true, he denied it, but his voice sounded like he wanted to believe his own words."

"What kind of trouble?"

Donnie shook her head. "I shouldn't be telling you this. It's confidential until the board of directors gives the ok to share it. Heck, I'm not supposed to know about it. What I do know is snippets of conversation I happened to hear."

"You can tell me, since it's not going out." Donnie cocked an eyebrow. "I, Britt Reid promise to never ever share this information until the time is right and even then with only the right people." Britt said firmly. He was a man of his word.

She sighed and gave in. "It's about some drugs. We got a new batch of opiates last month. Two weeks ago, we did a routine check on the medicine and discovered that all of them had been replaced with saline solution. Later, we tested our muscle relaxants and they had been diluted. If the bottles of medicine are watered down, it's not as effective. It can even be fatal. There's talk that somebody's stealing them and refilling them with saline solution so nobody would suspect. They're just rumors though."

"Why would anybody steal medicinal drugs like that?" Britt asked. "I mean, I know you can grind up certain medicines and the like to cook meth. But why the anesthesia, the muscle relaxers and that?"

"There's a black market for them. Especially in poorer countries. You won't believe how much people are willing to pay with few questions asked."

"Could they have been accidentally contaiminated by the pharmacy company?" Hippo climbed back onto Donnie's hand.

"We haven't ruled that out, we're still waiting to hear from them." Donnie put Hippo back in his cage.

"Donnie?" Frank stood in the doorway. Britt saw that he was dressed in his brown suit and tie for the office. "I have to go down to the office. Will you be ok?"

"Yeah," Donnie rubbed her eyes. Britt thought he saw a tear run down but she wiped her face before he could tell. "A hot shower and a good night's sleep should help."

Britt decided to compare notes with Frank. "Donnie, I'll leave my number if you need to get ahold of me. I'll give Casey your name and number. It was nice meeting you Donnie."

"You too, Britt." Donnie smiled and closed her door.

Britt and Frank went out to the living room and began collecting the empty beer bottles and old popcorn. They heard running water from the bathroom attached to Donnie's room. "Any details on the Wilbur case?"

"Evidence at this point suggests what initial reports were. Armed assailant jumped him while he was walking home from work. Wallet, cell phone and gold class ring are missing. One shot to the heart. That's what got him. Why do you ask?"

Britt shared what he learned from Donnie about the drugs. "What do you think we should do about this?"

Frank paused as he picked up the now full trash bag. "I don't know Britt. Right now we're up to our necks in the Butch Manuel case. If the police think the Wilbur case is deeper than we think…"

"…then they'll let us know." Britt sighed as he finished writing his name and number on a piece of notepad paper. "The Hornet has a shakedown tonight. I'll fill you in on the details."

Frank nodded. "Britt, be careful."

"Hey," Britt said with an innocent smile. "When was the last time I've ever been careless?"

Frank rolled his eyes. Last year saw a couple of really close calls. One time he ended up being shot in the left shoulder. But he would always bounce back. "Good luck."

"You too," Britt walked out the front door. The sun had just set, sending a last blaze of reds, pinks and golds into the sky. Some stars were twinkling and the moon was rising high. Time for the Hornet to come out and play. Britt called Kato. A couple of rings later, he heard him answer. "Yes, Britt?"

"I'll be home in ten minutes. Get the Black Beauty ready.