Chapter 13

"Okay," Matheson said. "Where is the other patient?"

He was surprised at the glares he got. He wondered if this was one of these things that he just had a problem comprehending. People were so confusing at times. Finally, Dr. Banks gestured.

"This way. I'll take you."

Matheson nodded and beckoned to Melanie. She followed along, calmly as ever. She was unflappable which was why he enjoyed working with her. No matter what issues arose, she was able to deal with them, and she had the intelligence necessary to make progress. That was why he was becoming convinced that what they wanted to accomplish just wasn't possible. Sure, it would be nice to be able to safely run human trials, but not when death was essentially guaranteed.

...which was why he felt rocked to the core when he stepped into the ICU and saw the other patient. A tracheotomy? Induced coma?

"Wow," he said softly.

"That's not the reaction I would have expected," Dr. Banks said mildly.

Matheson looked over, happy to avoid seeing in more detail.

"I did not authorize this, Dr. Banks. This is not my fault! What I was trying to do was save lives, not end them."

Dr. Banks shrugged, clearly unimpressed.

"Get your examination done, please."

Matheson swallowed and nodded. This went faster because of all the monitors keeping track of Tim's vitals.

"What drugs are you using?" Matheson asked.

"Some of the typical treatments for tetanic spasms. Diazepam, phenobarbital, dantrolene, along with propofol."

"Okay. Where's the rest of the data? And I'll need space to work."

"This way."

Dr. Banks led them a conference room.

"You can access everything you'll need from this computer. If you need anything else, let us know."

"Thank you. I will," Matheson said.

Dr. Banks left the two of them alone.

"Okay," Matheson said. "I guess we should get to work."

"Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think we can do this?"

Matheson smiled a little. "According to that Agent Gibbs, my life depends on it; so I guess we'll have to."

Melanie smiled as well. "All right. I guess we should get down to it, then. I'd hate to have to train another project head."

"All right. So...let's start with the simpler structure, the base and see what we can do. It's already decayed but we need to get it out of the body."

"Once it bonds with the oxygen, shouldn't it begin to filter out anyway?"

"Eventually, but right now, it's damaging the body tissues. We can't wait for it to get done. We need to get it out right now. Otherwise, these two men will die."

Melanie nodded.

They started pouring over the data in the hopes of discovering a cure.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"I don't like him," Abby said darkly.

"Like him or not, he's our best chance," Tony said.

"He may be our only chance," Ducky said from his seat beside Stan.

Stan was still lying, staring at the ceiling, breathing heavily. His momentary panic had left him weakened even more than before.

"Is anyone keeping an eye on them, at least?" Abby asked.

"Didn't you notice that there's someone missing?" Tony asked with a slight smile.

"Where's Ziva?"

Gibbs said nothing. He was looking at Stan struggling for even the little bit of oxygen he was getting. He walked over to the bed.

"Stan?"

Stan's eyes moved off the ceiling.

"I expect you to live through this."

Stan smiled slightly but didn't speak. Instead, he raised a hand in the shape of a thumbs up.

"Good man," Ducky said.

"...trying..."

"No talking," Gibbs said with a light tap on Stan's head.

Another thumbs up.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Matheson and Melanie kept up their work for hours, not pausing except to grab something to eat. They had set up communication with the lab and had been running simulations over and over just to get some idea of what might work. Nothing had so far.

Finally, evening came and Matheson leaned back from his chair and stared at the ceiling.

"I don't know if we can do this, Melanie."

"We'll make it eventually, Clark."

"Eventually isn't good enough. There are two men whose lives hang in the balance here."

"You know...this might be a good thing."

"What might?" Matheson asked, sitting up in his chair.

"Haven't you said over and over that you wished there was some safe way to see how the drug would react in a human body?"

"Yes, I have, but that was always followed by the fact that we're nowhere near ready to try that."

"But someone has."

"And it's monstrous!" Matheson said. "Don't tell me that you think this is worth it."

Melanie shrugged. "If it helps us get a breakthrough, it's only a few men's lives. How many more are lost through chemical warfare? We could save more lives than have been lost here. A lot more."

"Only if it works, and you know that I've been getting skeptical." Matheson looked at the computer screen which was running the latest simulation...and a terrible thought came into his head. "Melanie...you aren't a part of this, are you?"

"What if I was?"

"How could you even entertain the idea that something like this would be okay? These are real people, not computers!"

"Yes, and those who might die in the future are real people, too. What's your point?"

"My point is that there is not one iota of..." He was so upset that he lost his eloquence. "...not one chance in a million that the drug as it now stands could do what we want it to do. Not one. There has not been one single success. Every rat has died. Every simulation ends in death."

Melanie shook her head in derision. "And how will we possibly get beyond this setback if we don't take some risks?"

"Risks? Risks are taken when there is some expectation of success. There was none. There has been none."

"Do you know how many millions of dollars have been invested in this idea?"

"Not a clue."

"Do you know how long it will take to recoup that and how easily it could be done if there was a success here?"

"It's all about money?"

"Of course not. If it was only about money, we would be researching something that could save a much larger segment of the population, but money has to be a part of it. We can't possibly expect research like this to go on forever with no results."

"And so you're willing to commit murder?"

"Murder? They voluntarily received the drug."

Matheson stood up.

"And you know this, how?"

"What did you think, Clark? That the board would let you go on wasting their time and money after four years of nothing? Where do you think the data came from that allowed you to make the tweaks necessary to create the chelating agent?"

"You mean to...to tell me that..."

"You are the quintessential naive scientist, Clark. You think that this is an ideal world. Well, it's not. The real world has to consider funding as well as saving lives. And we can achieve both if we go beyond the bounds set by politicians."

"Those limits are there for a reason. Human trials only come when you think there's a chance that they'll survive. From what I understand, not one of those men survived."

"And these won't, either."

"What are you saying?"

Melanie reached over and deleted the latest simulation.

"Hey!"

"Clark, you have to realize that they'll be witnesses."

"So?" And then, finally, it dawned on Matheson just what Melanie was saying. He knew that it was rather ridiculous that he hadn't clued in before, but...well, Melanie had said it. He was naive.

...and when Melanie pulled out a syringe and wielded it like a weapon, he recognized that his naivety would probably lead to his death.

"So...what's in there?" he asked with a nonchalance that surprised him.

Melanie smiled. "Novichok-7."

Matheson gulped. "That wasn't supposed to be available to anyone except me."

"Wrong again, Clark. I'm sorry. You are a brilliant researcher, but we can't be stopped now. Just buying the nerve agents, bringing them up from the sea floor, that cost millions. A few regrettable deaths will be forgotten when we can..."

Matheson would be the first to admit that he was a weakling. Because his family had been wealthy, he had gone to special schools as a child. If PE had been required at those schools, he would have failed. Miserably. His only acknowledgment of the need for exercise was a short jog every morning and evening to keep himself from being sedentary. ...but now, he knew that, weakling or not, he had to at least try to fight back, although Melanie would probably clean his clock. She had told him before about her training program. ...and yet, even at this moment, Gibbs scared him more than Melanie did.

He'd been taught more than once that one shouldn't hit a woman. Still, he swung his fist at her face but wasn't surprised in the least when she stopped him and shoved him back with one hand.

"You'd hit a woman, Clark? I'm shocked. You seem like such a gentleman."

"I don't see a woman. I see a monster," he said.

Melanie just smiled. "I'm sorry that you have to die."

The door behind them burst open and Ziva was standing there, her gun drawn.

"You will be the one dying, Lawson, if you do not stop where you are," she said.

Matheson stared at her and then at Melanie. Ziva was more frightening. No question about it. The NCIS people were infinitely more frightening than the bad guys.

"Melanie, I think that she's telling the truth."

Melanie stared at Matheson with a smile.

"You're probably right."

"I assure you that I will not miss if you take one step toward Dr. Matheson."

Melanie sighed and put the syringe down. She raised her hands in the air.

"How long were you watching?"

"All day, with a five-minute break," Ziva said.

"Oh."

Ziva cuffed her roughly and took her out of the room. Matheson stood there, uncertain of what to do. His assistant had just been arrested after threatening to kill him.

Luckily, he didn't have long to wait. Ziva was back a minute or two later. She pointed at him.

"Are you all right?"

"You know...it's strange. I still think you're scarier, even though Melanie was going to kill me. ...and I can't believe that she would think that all this was okay. I mean, she's worked with me since I was hired. We were friends...I thought. But I was even ready to hit her, not that I would have succeeded. I'm kind of a wuss in case you hadn't noticed and..."

"Are you always like this?" Ziva asked.

"When I'm terrified, yeah."

Ziva laughed. "You make it very difficult to despise you."

"Thank you?"

"Have you made any progress?"

"No, but now I wonder if Melanie was sabotaging it. I will go back over some things and get the simulation running again. Agent David, I promise that I did not intend for the drug to be tested on human beings. That would have come but many years down the road and only if we had been able to stabilize the drug."

"I think I may believe you, Dr. Matheson. Do you need any assistance now?"

"It would be helpful."

"I think there may be a couple of people who would be willing."

"Do they carry guns?" Matheson asked.

Ziva smiled. "No. They do not, although if you anger them, you may still be in danger."

"Is there anyone who works for NCIS that wouldn't kill me?"

Her smile became sad. "The ones who would be most likely are the two men we are trying to save."

Matheson nodded.

"In that case, I'll try to save them."

"Good. I will send Abby and Ducky to help you."

Ziva left and Matheson let out a whoosh of air and then sat down at the table. He called over to the lab.

"Okay, guys. We've had a huge problem and we need to fix it. Melanie has been sabotaging our efforts all day. The last simulation needs to be run again and I'm going to read you the parameters. Tell me if there are any that were changed from what Melanie told you."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"His assistant was one of them?" Abby asked furiously. "Can I kill her?"

"No," Ziva said calmly. "Tony is going to be taking her to NCIS and Gibbs is going to interrogate her. And Dr. Matheson needs your help. Both of you."

"You think he is innocent in this?" Ducky asked.

"Melanie Lawson was going to kill him, and I do not sense any...I do not know the word."

"Guile?" Ducky suggested.

"Maybe. Whatever it is, he does not have it. He is a sheltered, intelligent man who is shocked at learning what some people are like."

"Okay. I'll help. Stan is getting worse," Abby said. "Dr. Banks doesn't know how much longer he has."

"Yes. We will both help."

"I hope you find something soon."

Ziva showed them where Matheson was working and then headed back to Stan's room. She paused in the doorway. Gibbs was sitting beside the bed. It looked like he was actually talking to Stan in a low voice. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but the fact that Gibbs was taking over the task of talking spoke to how serious it was. Stan was in the same position he'd been, but there was an expression of pain on his face. She stepped inside.

"Gibbs?" she said softly.

"Yeah?"

"Tony has taken Lawson to NCIS."

He nodded.

"Stan, I'm going, but I'll be back and you'd better be alive still."

Ziva saw Stan give a thumbs up and Gibbs squeezed his shoulder before get up.

"All right. Let's go."

Ziva nodded and they left.