Chapter 13

Don carried the briefcase and Amita carried the sandwiches and coffee as they walked back to the hospital. It was almost four in the morning, and Amita pulled her jacket closed. against the chill air. "Have you ever been to Princeton before?" Amita asked as they crossed the street.

"Yeah, years ago when Charlie was in school here. Dad and I came to visit him and Mom a few times. It's a beautiful place, but I don't think he was ever really happy here."

"It is a beautiful campus. Charlie was so excited about showing us around this morning. He was like a little kid. Oh, God, Don, so much has happened. I can't believe it was just this morning..."

"I know," Don said sadly, putting his arm around Amita's shoulders. Then, trying to lighten the mood, he said, "Hey, is Charlie going to be upset his encryption wasn't infallible?"

Amita smiled. "Probably. But it'll give him something to do while he recuperates. And I actually think he'll be glad we got the information he wasn't allowed to give us."

"True." Don shook his head. "I can't believe he would keep this secret, as sick as he is. I don't know if I could do it."

"Oh, come on, Don, you're the big tough federal agent," Amita giggled. "You wouldn't let a wimpy math professor show you up."

Don chuckled. "Wimpy is not a term I would ever use to describe Charlie."

They entered Charlie's room quietly. Everybody but the NSA agent was sound asleep. Alan had rested his head on the bed next to Charlie and Larry was slumped in his chair. Agent Reid glanced up as they entered, then went back to his puzzle. Don sighed and approached the agent. "Any news?" he whispered.

Reid looked up, surprised at Don's question. "Uhhh. Not really. The doctors were in here, trying some new treatment. They said your brother's temperature had gone down a bit, which is good news." Reid smiled.

"Don't worry about it. "What was the treatment?"

"Your dad will know for sure. From what I could gather, it was a cocktail of – I think they said six – antibiotics. They were also talking about doing some experimental treatment, something to do with a virus to attack the bacteria." He shrugged. "Believe it or not, I'm not trying to intrude on your family's lives here."

"I appreciate that, Frank," Don said. He looked at his sleeping family and sighed. "Looks like we should have taken a nap, Amita. Hey, Frank, would you like some coffee? The lady the inn gave us some coffee to bring back with us. It's probably better than the schlock you get here."

"Thanks," Agent Reid held out his cup as Amita filled it.

Amita settled back into the chair she had sat in most of the day, and opened the briefcase to take the computer out. She caught Reid looking at her and said, "What?"

"Nothing. You're on the computer a lot."

She shrugged. "You do puzzles. I do computers."

"I thought that might be Dr. Eppes' computer."

Amita looked at Don, not sure how to answer that. Finally she said, "We both use it."

A few minutes later, Alan stirred and sat up rubbing his eyes groggily. "Donnie, Amita. When did you get back?"

"A little while ago. Want a sandwich and some coffee, Dad? The lady at the inn had it sent up to the room for us."

"Ah, that would be wonderful. Thank you," he said, standing up and stretching the kinks out of his back.

"Agent Reid tells me they've come up with a treatment for Charlie," Don said as Amita handed Alan a sandwich.

"Yes, they're hoping a combination of antibiotics might do the trick. Apparently there's a whole list of antibiotics they usually use for anthrax, sometimes combined with cipro, and sometimes combined with another one, but I don't remember the name. They decided to start him on the group with cipro, then they're talking about a bacteriophage, an enzyme that attacks the anthrax bacteria. But they haven't found one that's been approved for use in humans yet."

"Whoa," Don said. "They're talking about experimental treatments already?"

Alan nodded. "Dr. House seems to think this might be some kind of genetically altered bacteria."

"Genetically altered? Like weapons of mass destruction?" Don asked.

Alan shrugged. "Possibly. But whatever it is, it's not responding to treatments like normal anthrax. He has his suspicions. He wanted to know where Charlie's been and what he's been doing, I guess so he can figure out what he's dealing with. I told him everything I knew about Charlie's activities the past few weeks."

Don nodded and smiled, "I'm sure that was helpful."

Alan grinned, "I hope so."

Alan sat back down with his sandwich and coffee and ate in silence. Don slumped in his chair and closed his eyes. He must have gone to sleep because he found himself waking up to the sounds of activity in the room. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Alan was sitting up, holding a cup of ice water for Charlie. "Well, good morning, sleeping beauty," Alan said with a chuckle.

Don looked at his watch. "Wow, seven already?" He looked at Charlie, who was staring back in his general direction. "Hey, Buddy. You're awake."

Charlie smiled slowly. "Yeah," he whispered.

"I heard they tried a new treatment. Feeling any better?"

Charlie shrugged. "A little. I don't know."

Don got up, stretching his back out, and walked to Charlie's side. He looked fondly down at his brother and bent to hug him. He whispered, "We know about Baghdad. Havercamp's on it."

Charlie looked up at him as he stood. His expression was confused at first. But then Don could see the comprehension dawning as he nodded slowly. "It's good to see you too, Bro," Charlie said.

Larry stirred and woke up, blinking owlishly in the bright light. Don offered him the last of the sandwiches and a cup of cold coffee, which he accepted gratefully. "Don," he said, "Were you able to get any rest?"

Don shrugged. "Enough."

"Charles!" Larry exclaimed. "It's nice to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

Charlie shrugged and closed his eyes. "Not so hot," he whispered. "Tired."

Alan touched Charlie's face. "You feel a little cooler."

"Good," Charlie said. "Don?" he opened his eyes and looked for his brother. When he found him, he grinned, "Thanks." His eyes drifted shut again.

Agent Reid said, "Don, what was he thanking you for?"

"Who knows?" Don said. "Probably delirious."