Author's Note:

Okay, not only am I not English, but I am also not a medical professional and have only a provisional understanding of the healthcare system in England. I am learning a lot from researching things as I write this story! Reviews would be appreciated.


"Holy shit."

"Fuck. What do we do now?"

"Well, I'm not going to touch him. That's like walking into the animal enclosure at the zoo and putting your head in the lion's mouth."

"You're a fucking twat, Ollie, you know that? Terri, come over here and help me."

Glen knelt next to a supine Malcolm, who hadn't moved since the fall. Terri hesitated, then tentatively came up alongside the unconscious enforcer.

"Help me to roll him over. Watch his neck." The pair carefully rolled Malcolm onto his back. He showed no signs of waking.

"He's bleeding, Glen, look he's all bloody."

It was true. The left side of Malcolm's face, which had been against the marble foundation of the fireplace, was covered in blood. Terri spotted the laceration on his left temple.

"I think I'm going to puke."

"Master yourself, Terri."

"No, really, I don't do well with blood, Glen."

Nicola's paralysis finally broke. She left the room and found the PA's desk not far down the hall.

"It's Sam, right? Malcolm's in trouble. He passed out and he's hit his head. I think he needs EMS."

Sam was out of her chair like a shot, already dialing 999 as she moved ahead of Nicola toward Malcolm's office. Nicola stepped to the side where Ollie was hanging about like a virgin at a brothel.

The PA knelt beside her boss and put a hand on his chest. "Malcolm?" He did not respond in any way. She cupped his cheek.

"Glen, Terri, could you get some ice from the pantry? It's just through that door." Glen and Terri were more than happy to respond to Sam's request and step away from the scene.

Sam turned her back to Nicola and Ollie as the 999 operator answered. Her full focus was on her boss. Nicola and Ollie listened in on Sam's side of the conversation.

"Yes, I am at Number Ten Downing Street, and we need an ambulance. Malcolm Tucker. He's been ill with a high fever, and he collapsed a few minutes ago. Hit his head. No. Yes, he's breathing. Fifty just yesterday. Okay, thanks."

Sam disconnected and set her phone on the floor, taking the towel full of ice offered by Terri and putting it gently behind Malcolm's neck. "Ollie, the ambulance is going to go to the receiving entrance, which is just down the hall to the left as you leave this room. Could you go outside and wait for them, and bring them here when they arrive?"

"Sure, Sam." Ollie headed out, pulling his phone from his suit coat inner pocket.


"Geoffrey, hi. This is Ollie. Ollie Reeder from DoSAC. C'mon, you remember me, we met at the press event at Number Ten last month. You gave me your number. Yeah. Well, if you're still looking for a story for the evening edition, I think I have one for you. Can you get a journalist over to Number Ten, right away? If they drive around back in a few minutes they'll see the ambulance. Yep, ambulance. Malcolm Tucker. Dunno, man, he just collapsed in a meeting. Yep. Sure. And keep me out of it, okay? Good."

Ollie disconnected from his call with The Guardian editor. He grinned smugly. Now The Mirror, The Daily Mail and The Guardian all had the lead on Malcolm. Payback's a bitch. Next, he speed-dialed Emma, who picked up right away.

"What d'ya want, Ollie? You know I'm in meetings all day."

"Sorry Emma dear, but I thought you'd like to know what just happened at Number Ten. I'm there right now and I was just in a meeting with Malcolm Tucker when he keeled over."

"Keeled – he died?"

"No, no, he didn't die, he passed out in the most spectacular way. I nearly wet my pants. This is like all my dreams coming true at once."

"Ollie, you're sick!"

"Well, it's not like everyone else wasn't thinking the same thing, right? Anyway, I'm waiting for the ambulance and thought I'd give you the low-down. Got to let you go now, here it comes. Talk later – bye."

As the EMS techs got organised and headed his way, Ollie saw the first of the journalists pull up in a car off to the side of Receiving. Perfect.


Sam concentrated on her breathing, refusing to panic. She'd been worried about Malc the last few days, and now it had come to this. Christ, Malcolm, you never do anything halfway, do you? Her knees ached from kneeling beside him. She could feel the heat baking off of him in spite of the ice pack. His temple was already bruising badly. His breathing was very labored.

The worst part of it was she knew she couldn't ride with him in the ambulance. She had to get press control in place and things locked down before people got word of what happened. She checked Malcolm's pulse again and then dialed Jamie, never taking her eyes off of her husband. He hadn't moved once since she came in. Please, Malcolm, please be okay.

Jaime picked up right away. After the text he'd sent her earlier, perhaps he was waiting for a call like this one.

"Sam."

"Jamie, this is…really important. We've got an ambulance on the way for Malcolm. I'm worried about press. Could you keep an eye out and send them away if they show up?" A tear slid down her cheek. She wiped it away.

"You got it, Sam, I know how he hates to be in the papers. Nobody's getting any pictures, or they'll have my foot up their arse. How bad is he?"

Sam swallowed hard before she could answer. It was difficult to maintain her composure with the DoSAC people still in the room.

"Pretty bad, I think, I dunno. He's unconscious. Look, I'd better go. I'll call or text you when I know more, okay?"

"Take care, Sam,"

"Bye."

Jamie didn't know the half of it about why Malcolm hated to be in the papers. For someone who had been in the press corps and then government communications his whole career, one would think he would be caught in the media's gaze frequently.

But for someone as high-profile as Malcolm, it was surprising how infrequently anything about him made the news. Sure, his persona was often front and center in political commentary. To the world at large, Malcolm was the invisible spectre: Iago with a Blackberry. But for the media to publish anything specifically about Malcolm or Malcolm's actions was rare. In Malcolm's words, he was 'a backroom boy.'

Sam believed he used his considerable leverage with all the big media syndicates to keep a low profile, only allowing things to get into print that added to his 'one mean bastard' persona. Sam knew he would be horrified if his collapse ended up in the papers. The few times he got a write up for a decision he'd made or an action he took, he was a paranoid mess for weeks afterwards.

Sam had read the articles that covered the incident with his father that landed Malcolm in jail at fourteen, and the subsequent investigation into allegations of child abuse. While Malcolm's name was never mentioned due to his minor status, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out it was him.

In a small Glasgow neighborhood, word got around. Julia had shared with Sam that kids in Malcolm's grade and even some of the older ones were brutal to Malcolm when he returned to school. His remaining years in secondary were chequered with a myriad of fights, both in and out of school.

No, Sam had to make sure the press didn't get wind of this. She also needed to lock his desk, shut down his computer, and make sure nothing sensitive was unsecured in his office. There were more than a few people at Number Ten or in Westminster that would pay great sums to have unsupervised access to Malcolm's office.


Nicola felt incredibly awkward standing around watching. "Sam, is there anything I can do to help?" She finally asked. A moment later she regretted it.

"Thanks for offering, Nicola. Here's the thing. I can't go with Malcolm in the ambulance. I've got to notify the PM's PA of the situation and also secure some things in the office. I hate to ask, but could you ride with him to hospital?"

"Uh, I-" Just then EMS arrived, rolling in a medical trolley and an array of equipment, and Sam's attention turned toward them.

Ollie rejoined Nicola, Glen and Terri, who moved toward the back of the office, not wanting to be in the way, but not sure if they should leave.

"Nicola, are you going in the ambulance with Malcolm?" Terri whispered.

"Well, I, you know, have the BBC to prepare for, and…"

"But you've got to. What if something happened? Would you ever forgive yourself if he died alone because you were worried about a broadcast that's hours away?"

"Why don't you go, then?" Nicola countered.

"Can't," Terri shot back, "sight of blood makes me ill. You go. It'll be good for you."

"Maybe even politically," Glen chimed in. Leave it up to him to think about all the angles.

"Okay, I'll do it, but you have to meet me at the hospital; you're my ride, right?" Coverly nodded.

"Mr. Tucker. Can you hear me?" The lead EMS, who had introduced himself as Leo, dug his knuckle into Malcolm's sternum, trying to get a response. Malcolm didn't react.

The female EMS unpacked a portable oxygen unit and placed the mask over Malcolm's nose and mouth.

"Does he have any known medical conditions?" Leo asked Sam.

"Yes, he has asthma, or at least he did as a child. He still uses a rescue inhaler."

"Anything else? Any allergies to latex, betadine or pennicillin?"

"No, nothing," Sam answered. Nicola was beginning to wonder if there was something going on between Malcolm and his PA. She seemed awfully certain about the medical questions, Nicola mused. Perhaps the PAs at Number Ten needed to know those things for circumstances like this, though.

The female EMS pulled the trigger on an ear thermometer. The thermometer beeped a moment later and she showed the display to Leo. Leo spoke into his headset – likely to another EMS back on the ambulance. "Temperature is 41 C. Skin isn't rebounding well so he's dehydrated. Have the cold saline ready. Oxygen sat is at 70% with a non-rebreather mask."

The female tech unbuttoned Malcolm's shirt and was applying sticky pads for a heart rate monitor. In the middle of all this commotion, Malcolm suddenly flailed his arms, and Nicola heard choking noises coming from under the mask.

"Mask off, and roll him," Leo said to his partner, and then to Sam, "Please step back, ma'am, thanks." Sam stepped back, but not very far, her face a study of concern.

The EMS techs got the mask off and had Malcolm on his side when he coughed up a spray of bright red blood. One EMS rubbed his back as he coughed while the other placed a towel under Malcolm's head, catching the blood.

The coughing didn't last long. When it was over the EMS reapplied the mask and moved Malcolm on to the trolley. Leo stepped up to Sam.

"Okay, we need to move out. Mr. Tucker is very ill. We're taking him to St. Thomas's. His breathing is badly compromised, so on the way we're going to give him a breathing treatment to try to improve his oxygen saturation. We'll also give him IV saline to rehydrate him and try to get his fever down. Once he's there, the doctors will most likely want to do a head CT scan to check for fractures."

"Thanks for explaining everything." Sam looked over toward Nicola and motioned for her to approach. "This is Nicola Murray. She'll ride with Malcolm to hospital, if it's okay. I'd go, but I have to take care of a few very urgent things. Where do I go when I get to St. Thomas's?"

"Go to the Accident and Emergency entrance and give the receptionist his name. They will direct you from there."


Jamie skidded to a halt just outside of Malcolm's office to make way for the EMS team. They rolled Malcolm out on the trolley. Jamie's throat closed up with emotion when he saw Malcolm lying motionless, white as paper and covered in blood on one side. Fuck, he looks bad, Jamie thought. He hurried behind the trolley, not wanting to be in the way, but wanting to get ahead of them so he could fend off any paparazzi as they left the building.

"Mate, could we cover his face as we go outside? We don't want any publicity on this." The burly EMS quickly covered Malc's face while Jamie moved ahead and opened the double doors so the EMS team could get through.

Sure enough, there were five or six reporters and several cameramen with full gear on display. Jamie squared his shoulders and went to war.

"You lot need to move on. There's nothing to see here, and nothing had better be in the papers tomorrow. You hear me? Get out of here before I take that fancy Nikon of yours and dash it into a million fucking pieces. And you, luv, I know where you work. The Mirror must be pretty hard up for a story to send you out ambulance chasing. Don't you have better things to do? Go on, there's nothing here. Nothing is happening. Go away."

Jamie kept moving forward, forcing the queue back away from the ambulance.

"Jamie McDonald, I heard from a source that Malcolm Tucker collapsed during a meeting. Is that him on the trolley? Can you tell us what happened?"

"Was it a heart attack?"

"Were there drugs involved?"

"What was he doing when this happened?"

"Would you like to make a statement?"

Jamie didn't answer any questions. Just then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nicola Murray come out behind the trolley and stand behind the ambulance doors, waiting to climb in. What the fuck is Nicola fucking Murray doing riding to hospital with Malcolm? Jamie thought.

The press caught sight of her and swarmed past Jamie toward her.

"Nicola Murray, were you meeting with Malcolm when this happened?"

"Can you tell us what happened?"

"Are you riding to hospital with Malcolm?"

Nicola looked as if she was about to answer, but Jamie shot her a piercing look. She'd better not.

"Erm, no comment at this time, thank you." Nicola hastened to climb into the back of the ambulance.

Jamie forced the press to back away from the loading zone as the EMS shut up the ambulance and got moving.

"Leave now. There is no story here. If I see any of your bylines under a story about an ambulance at Number Ten, your careers are over. You'll never get another lead from this office again. You will be persona non-fucking-grata. Get it? Goodbye."

Jamie went back inside and closed the doors firmly. He leaned against them for a moment as he got his breathing under control. Which bastard leaked this? Jamie had a pretty good idea who it might be.