Disclaimer – You recognise it, I don't own it.
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It took John nearly three hours to do a full stock take of the equipment and medication. Including the small diagnostic and operating room on the opposite side to his quarters.
He then did a quick rummage through the medical files in the office.
After that he sat and wrote up a list of what he required. He would address his captors about it in the morning.
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The next day John was up at what was his usual time. Before he left his room, he ran through a short session of PT. No need to get sloppy. No need to get out of shape. But no need to advertise it either. The bedroom door locked and there were no cameras in the room.
This was his domain. His hide-hole.
And as long as he didn't upset his captors, it would likely remain so.
He got dressed in the same clothes as he had found yesterday.
He found his list on the desk in the office where he'd left it.
Still not bothering to put on shoes or socks he padded out into the main infirmary.
It was empty. Just as he had expected. No need to send anyone to him.
Well, he wasn't going to get anything done just waiting around. He had to keep his Oath. To do what he must to the best of his ability.
He had to consciously tell himself not to march to the door. He was not a Soldier right then. He could not be a Soldier right then. He had to be a Doctor. He had to put Captain Watson on a back shelf.
It was time for Doctor Watson to come forward.
He knocked on the door.
Time to start.
Judging by how quickly the door was opened the guard was not expecting him to knock.
"Yes?" The guard snapped.
"What time will I be getting breakfast? And could you inform your leader that I would appreciate a word with him, at his convenience?" John asked gently.
If it wasn't for the seriousness of the situation, John would have started laughing at the guard's face. His words had completely thrown the man for a loop.
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It was about two hours later, after a breakfast of toast and marmalade, that the leader entered the room.
John had gotten thoroughly bored and was making origami animals… Badly. He'd never bothered learning how.
"Sir." John stayed where he was, perched on a bed.
"What do you want, Doctor?"
"Firstly, how would you like me to address you?"
"First Lieutenant." The response was immediate. And also proud. John kept quiet about his rank. It was possible that it hadn't been noticed.
"Very well, Lieutenant," John nodded, "I have a list of medications and equipment I am going to need, if I am to treat your men to the best of my ability. I will do the best with what I have, but my ability will be greatly increased by these. Also, I need computer access, to enable better record keeping. No disrespect meant towards your previous medic, but he was a poor record keeper and I have no legible medical records for any of your personnel."
"No records?" The Lieutenant blinked, "He had so many files. You can see them."
"The files are there." John sighed, "But they're either filled with scrap paper or empty. He managed to create the image of a perfectly organised office, and yet had very little work to do to keep it that way. I have no information on your men."
"You can't work without those files?"
"Not effectively. I don't know about pre-existing conditions, allergies, life-styles… The list goes on. I need up to date information." John explained, "Otherwise I could unintentionally kill someone. I take my Oath very seriously."
"Can you recreate these files?" The Lieutenant stated pulling a chair over to sit down.
"I would need to do individual health assessments on every person here." John replied, "I am willing. But I don't know how long it will take. Give me a kettle and a supply of coffee and I can work a sixteen hour day without ill-effect. Twenty if I push it. Though then I can only do it for three days and I'll be out of commission for two."
"You will do that?"
"If that is what is necessary, yes."
"How long will each one take?"
"Up to forty five minutes. Assume fifty. I can get about nineteen done a day. Maybe twenty." John thought it over.
"I have a hundred and fifty men, including myself on this base."
"Then I have a lot of work to do." John sighed, "I would also like to know, Lieutenant, at what time I will be receiving meals. Seeing as I rather doubt that you will allow me access to anything beyond this. My cage."
"You are smarter than you look." The Lieutenant acknowledged, "Yes. This is your cage. You will have everything you need. Everything you need to serve Cobra."
"Thank you." John smiled.
Inwardly he acknowledged the name. It meant nothing to him. But it was a start. Something to tell him what all of this was a part of.
Outwardly he showed no interest in the name. He was a Doctor. He was just a Doctor.
"You start tomorrow, Doc." The Lieutenant got up, putting the chair back, "I will get you what you require. Breakfast is at eight. Lunch at one. Supper at eight."
"Once again thank you." John nodded.
The Lieutenant left. Leaving John to his paper animals.
Slowly, steadily and deliberately, John tore a piece of paper into a rectangle. He then rolled it into a tube from the corner. Once he had tightened it, he squeezed it gently to form curves.
A paper snake joined his collection.
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To be perfectly honest, under normal situations, John quite enjoyed performing health assessments. It allowed him an opportunity to get to know the people he would, no doubt, be treating later. Allowed them to get to know him as a person. Not as a mysterious, scary medical person.
Unfortunately there were two common images of doctors in most people's minds. They were either intellectual creatures who viewed themselves as above everyone. Or they were friendly, kindly, village doctors.
John was hoping to establish himself as the second of the two. He preferred it personally. But it would also, once again, establish him as harmless.
It was just past half eight in the morning, and John was waiting for his first patient.
"I was ordered to report here, Doctor?" The soldier entered.
"Have a seat." John smiled, "This is all just routine. I need to give everyone a health assessment, so that I can do my job effectively. I will have to ask you some questions, if you could answer truthfully and as accurately as you can, it would help me."
"Sure." The soldier shrugged.
"What's your name?"
"Clayton Bolster."
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"Kurt Greb."
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"Nita Edlund."
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"Clinton Stickles."
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"What's your job?"
"Why is that important?"
"Because some medication that I might prescribe for conditions might not be suitable for some jobs. Such as prescribing a drug that can cause sedating effects to a pilot would be dangerous. But not for a cook. And if a computer expert had high blood pressure, I would advise exercise. But that would be a bit pointless for a PT Instructor."
"Oh, I get it… I'm a tank jockey."
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"Infantry."
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"Tele-viper… Communications."
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"Night Raven… Pilot."
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"Wrench Jockey.
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"Cook."
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"Which shift do you work?"
"Mornings. Six till two."
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"Afternoon. Two till ten."
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"Night. Ten till six."
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"Do you have any allergies?"
"No."
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"Cat hair."
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"Hayfever."
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"Penicillin… And Erythromycin."
"Awkward combination."
"That's what they all say."
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"Lidocaine."
"I'll have to remember that one."
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"Latex."
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"Not that I know of. But my mum's got a few."
"We'll see how we go."
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"Lactose intolerant?"
"I'll say that counts."
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"Any medical conditions?"
"Hayfever?"
"I'll put that down."
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"No."
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"Cobra doesn't take weaklings!"
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"Diabetes… But don't tell anyone? I have to use insulin."
"This is all confidential."
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"Asthma. But I'm controlled."
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"Cobra only recruits the healthy."
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"How would you describe your diet?"
"You've seen the crap the kitchen serves."
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"Pretty good."
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"Lousy."
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"I'm probably not that healthy. Computer geek. I live off coffee and chocolate. Plus I'm on the night shift, so I get left-overs served again for my lunch at midnight."
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"I don't like vegetables."
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A little over a week later, John was transcribing all his notes onto the computer system, drinking heavily from a coffee mug. One thing never failed to amaze him… People would talk about anything to distance themselves from a physical exam, particularly the embarrassing parts.
Though, right then, all John wanted to do was finish his transcribing and sleep… For about a week.
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Please Review.
I would like to thank my followers and reviewers. Thank you.
Skyflyte12 – Thanks for the compliment. Sequel… Is taking a while. Muse wants to go somewhere I'm not too sure about.
Angelwings23123 – Take it you like then?
IzzyDelta – Hey, I like to tease. But thanks.
Chaoticmom – Glad you like John. He gets stronger every time I look at him.
Photo100 – Thanks! Hope you continue to enjoy.
Kat-lady04 – You're welcome!
The Owl Mage – You'll just have to wait a bit longer. Sorry, but I like suspense.
Hjohn302 – Hope you liked this chapter.
Grey-shadow-horse – Thank you.
Gabriel Dragonheart – Good to know.
Johnsarmylady – TC's growing there. Little by little.
Chironsgirl – Always beware. Some soft cuddly animals aren't safe.
GabrielsDoubt – Yep! My TC Watson is there. Just normal right now… As for his captors? No, not Afgans. I'm using the bad guys from G.I. Joe. Don't ask why, my muse took a random turn somewhere.
FlameingWings – You'll see. I don't like spoilers.
Once again thank you.