Chapter fourteen
Jim's good feeling from his vision/dream/whatever faded as the long night slowly bled towards dawn. They spent hours battling Blair's fever with what they had to hand. They soon ran out of water and had resorted to using cardboard torn from the boxes as fans. Sandburg became more and more restless and seemed to settle only when Jim stroked his face and spoke quietly into his ear. They'd tried crushing the remaining antibiotics into some water in an effort to them into him, but most it met with limited success. So, it was with a collective feeling of relief when Bristows' radio crackled and they could hear Patton's disjointed voice. The helicopter had taken off and was on its way.
Covering him with a sleeping bag they carefully, they carried the sick man on his cot out of the tunnels and into the fresh air. As the helicopter approached Jim brought the cover over his head and he and Simon held it down to protect him from the debris churned up by the downdraught from the blades. All too soon Blair had been strapped down and winched up into the aircraft. Within minutes it had disappeared round the bend in the valley. Unfortunately, there'd been no room for Jim in the basket with Blair and he didn't want to delay the flight while the basket was lowered again. For a moment everyone stood staring up at the sky in silence until Jim shook himself out of his stupor and made a run for his horse. Within minutes the horses were saddled and everyone was ready to leave. And then it was a nightmare dash back down the mountain.
Fortunately, Banks had organised transport to be waiting for them when they got back to where they'd left the vehicles. Bristows and Pascal urged them to leave straight away saying that they would take care of the horses. Five hours after they'd left the mine dirty, hot, thirsty, exhausted and anxious for news Jim, Simon and Megan swept into the entrance of Sheridan General Hospital. Agent Goodson leapt up from a chair where he'd been reading a newspaper and intercepted them before they'd reached the reception desk.
"Captain Banks! Detective Ellison!"
Like flocking birds, the three detectives turned and impaled him with their eyes.
"Agent Goodson, we don't have time…"
"No, wait. I'm here to take you to Mr. Sandburg."
"Where?" Jim almost barked the word.
"Third floor. Critical Care."
"How is he?" Ellison called as he headed across the foyer to the bank of lifts on the left weaving his way through the people dotted about the space.
"Um," Goodson scurried to catch up with him, "they won't tell me much. Just that he's stable." They piled into one of the lifts as soon as the doors opened. A man ran up and was about to follow them in when he took a second look at the dirty and smelly trio and the man who was obviously a Fed. He beat a rapid and strategic retreat. "It's a Dr Petersen who's treating him," continued the agent as the lift rose. Jim impatiently watched the numbers on the panel indicating the lift's position.
The doors opened again on the third floor. Opposite them was a pair of imposing doors that were closed. A large sign of black and red letters was attached to the front: "Authorised Access Only. Press for admittance." An arrow pointed to a button on the right next to a metallic speaker grill. Jim pressed it without hesitation.
After a moment's wait a crackly voice issued out, "Yes?"
"Detective Ellison to see Blair Sandburg."
"Oh, right. Bear with me a moment."
After a tense wait Jim was just about to press the bell again when a voice from behind made everyone swing round.
"Detective Ellison?" A thin, almost cadaverous, tall man in his 50s with blond hair dressed in a white coat and holding a file was looking questioningly at the group.
"Uh, yes. That's me."
The man held out his hand. "Dr Petersen. I'm Mr. Sandburg's primary physician."
"Captain Banks, Inspector Connor and Agent Goodson," Jim introduced the others. "How is he?"
"I think it would be a good idea if we spoke for a minute first. If you'd like to…"
"Is he all right?"
"He's sleeping at the moment. If you're in a position to do so I really need information on Mr. Sandburg's medical antecedents and previous health history."
"I just want to see him."
"Jim," Simon put a hand on his arm, "let's go and see what the doctor has to say and give him the information he needs. I'm sure if there was any urgency he'd have said so. No?" He looked pointedly at the tall man.
"Of course," Petersen covered his mouth with a hand as he yawned. "Excuse me. I've been on call for 32 hours and it's catching up with me. Mr. Sandburg isn't in any danger and I really need as much information as possible so I can give him the best treatment possible."
Jim nodded, but Goodson stopped them before anyone could move. "Uh, Captain?"
"Yes."
"I just need to tell you that Patton's clearing out of the hotel. Now that Sandburg's been found and Escobar's men have gone the task force's been wound up. I don't need to stay here. The hotel's kept your rooms for you and when you need to get there call me," he handed Banks a card, "and I'll take you back."
"Thank you. And thank Patton for me. For everything."
"No problem. Patton would like to see you before you head back to Washington." With that he turned and pushed through the door leading to the stairs.
Minutes later they were seated in Petersen's office gratefully sipping on hot coffee provided by an orderly. The doctor took a large swallow from his mug and opened the file on his desk before him. "Right. SAC Patton has filled me in on what happened to Mr. Sandburg and I've put him on some broad-spectrum antibiotics to combat the infection, Ringer's Lactate for the dehydration and he's on a respirator. It only kicks in when his respirations are depressed. I'm a bit worried about his lungs. There's considerable scarring, which is compromising his breathing slightly. Do you know how the scarring occurred?"
No one said anything until Jim, studiously avoiding looking at anyone in the eyes, spoke up. "About two years ago he drowned. Was dead, but we managed to revive him." He stopped not wanting to relive one of the most painful events of his life.
"Uh huh. Did he actually stop breathing for any length of time?" The doctor obviously thought the detective was exaggerating.
Again, silence.
This time Megan answered, "Doc, the EMTs declared him dead. For at least twenty minutes."
Petersen opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again as he saw the looks on their faces. He made a note in the file.
"Has he woken up?" Asked Simon.
"Not really. He's been semi-coherent a few times, but the good news is that his temperature's finally beginning to fall. He has a mild concussion and we've stitched the cut on his face. Fortunately, apart from severe dehydration and the lung infection there's nothing much else wrong with him. Except…" he looked down at the file before him, "there's a nasty scar on his left leg… ?" He looked up when again his question was followed by silence. What was it with these people? There were more undercurrents flowing around them than in the Baring Straits. All the staff treating Sandburg had seen the word carved into his leg and speculation had been rife. These people (his friends?) obviously knew more than they were saying and were uncomfortable with the subject.
Simon glanced first at Jim who was gazing out of the window his jaw clenched then at Megan who was glaring at Jim. He sighed and told the doctor the bare facts of how Blair had been chased out of Cascade.
"He was a cop?" Petersen asked with a noticeable show of surprise.
"What's wrong with that?" Jim barked half rising out of his seat. "He was a bloody good detective and had earned his place."
Petersen was taken aback with the vehemence of his statement. "I'm sure he was. I wasn't casting aspersions on his career choice. It's just that with the state of his lungs I'm surprised he passed the physical."
"Yeah, well," Simon shifted uncomfortably on his chair, "he was a special case."
Petersen opened his mouth, but was interrupted before he could speak.
"Can we see him now?" Jim had reached the end of his patience. They waited while the doctor thought over what he'd seen and heard.
"With some provisos." He eventually said. He stood and picked up the file cradling it to his chest. "Mr. Sandburg's sleeping at the moment and he needs his rest. I'll allow you access, but can't allow you in to see him the way you are." He held up a hand and continued before they could verbalise an objection. "You're filthy and quite frankly you stink. As you are, you're a health hazard and won't be allowed into the unit. You need to clean up and you look like you could do with a decent meal. Do that and I'll allow you in. Agreed?"
As much as they wanted to argue they acknowledged that the doctor's points were valid. Jim's shoulders slumped realising that he wouldn't be seeing Blair in the immediate future. They would have to get back to the hotel, shower, change then get back again. It would all take AGES!
"Look, I understand your impatience. There's a shower in the doctors' lounge that you can use. I'll bring you some scrubs. How does that sound to you?"
JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB
Jim, Simon and Megan stood anxiously once more before the closed Critical Care entrance having wrung the bell again. They were clean, had had a quick sandwich and were now dressed in blue and green scrubs and thin cotton slippers. They each took a step back as one of the double doors swung open and a diminutive, 40-ish female in white tunic and trousers poked her head out.
"Come in." They followed her into a sort of vestibule/waiting room holding a padded, faux leather bench and a small table covered in dog-eared magazines. The walls carried bright posters stating 'Healthy Hand Washing' and 'Fight Congenital Heart Disease' or offering services for stroke and cancer victims. Before going through the next set of doors the nurse stopped and turned toward them. "Good afternoon. My name's Aurora Carter and I'm the Critical Care senior nurse for this shift. I need to explain a few things and ask you some questions before you go in. Are any of you suffering from a contagious disease or do you have any sort of infected wound?"
She watched them carefully as they shook their heads. "Good. This isn't intensive care so the visiting hours are slightly more relaxed. You can stay with Mr. Sandburg from 10 am to 8 pm, but you'll be asked to leave when we have to treat him or when we consider he needs to rest. There's limited room around the beds, so I'm afraid it's only two people at any time. Please turn off your phones. Although you can use them in the general parts of the hospital, in here there's simply too much sensitive equipment. Also, as you'll see it's quiet in there, so please keep your voices down. You're not allowed to bring in any food or drink or flowers, but you can bring cards. Each time you enter you must disinfect your hands using the gel in the distributer there." She indicated a plastic box fixed to the wall on the right of the second set of doors.
"Please don't touch any of the medical equipment. I know that seems obvious, but you'd be surprised what some people do. That's about it. Everything's here in this pamphlet, which I urge you to read." She handed each of them a folded sheet of paper. "Any questions? Or is there anything you need to tell me?"
The trio blinked at the nurse trying to get their tired brains to sort through all the information they'd just been given.
Simon was the first to get his head round the question. He looked down at the paper in his hand. "I think we're okay, for now." The others nodded in agreement when she looked at them.
"Fine. Who's going first?" She didn't need to be a mind reader to know that the male, blue-eyed detective was going to be the first through the doors.
"You go with him, sir" Megan spoke up. "I'll go later. I'm going to use the wait to decompress a bit." She sat down on the bench with a grateful sigh, leant her head against the wall and closed her eyes.
Jim and Simon followed the nurse into the hushed and dimly lit room. There was a central island consisting of a large counter surrounded by various screens and other equipment at which a female nurse was writing. The space was filled with the sounds of heart monitors beeping, respirators and automatic blood pressure cuffs. There were eight beds positioned against the walls six of which were occupied by patients in various states of awareness. A male nurse was quietly talking to an elderly man who, quite frankly, looked more dead than alive. Before anyone could say anything Jim unerringly headed for the second bed on the right. For a moment he just stood examining the figure that lay on it.
He was pleased to notice that Blair's colour was better and even through the noises of the beeping heart monitor and automatic cuff pressure he could tell that his lungs were clearer. Various tubes ran in and out of his body pumping fluids and medication in and draining waste away. The fever was still present if somewhat reduced, but it was obvious he was unconscious and not just sleeping. A small towel covered him from his stomach to mid-thigh exposing most of the awful scar. He felt Simon looking over his shoulder and saw the small nurse lay a gentle hand on her patient's forehead.
"Mr. Sandburg, you've got some visitors." She said softly and brushed a curl out of his eyes. "A Captain Banks and a Detective Ellison are here and an Inspector Connor's waiting to see you as well."
"Blair," murmured Jim.
"Sorry?"
"If he was awake he'd tell you to call him Blair, not Mr. Sandburg."
"Blair it is, then. I'll leave you to it." And with a final glance at the equipment arrayed around him, she left.
Jim took the chair on the left and pulled it up to the bed before sitting down on it. He picked up Blair's hand cradling it in both of his and cleared his throat. "Hello, Chief. We got here as fast as we could. You're getting good treatment so I want you to concentrate on getting better as soon as possible. Then we go back to Cascade…"
Simon tuned out the monologue and stood leaning against the bed's footboard letting his eyes roam over Sandburg's still form. He made a silent vow that he would use everything within his power to get him back the life that he'd given up in order to protect his friend.
JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB
"Jim, you've been here all afternoon without a break. The nurse said that Sandy's not going to wake up before tomorrow morning at least and he'll need you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed then. And you can't be too comfortable in those scrubs. I know I need to get back into some real clothes. Come back with me. The Captain left ages ago. We'll eat, go to bed early and be back here first thing tomorrow morning. They've got your phone number and know to call you straight away if there's any change." Megan leant over Blair's bed to look Jim directly in the eye all the while stroking the younger man's arm.
Jim didn't appear to be listening as he wiped Blair's face with a dampened face cloth. Megan pulled back and sighed.
"Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed?" Jim looked up at her a quizzical smile on his face. "Is that a technical term? And how do you know what my tail's like in the morning?"
"Jimbo!" She hissed at him keeping her voice down. However, she was pleased to see the humour in her colleague's eyes again.
"Chief, we're leaving now to get some food and a bit of rest. And really, green scrubs aren't my thing, you know? We'll be back tomorrow morning. I expect to see your baby blues then. Okay?" He brushed the back of his hand across his friend's cheek and stood rolling his aching shoulders. He'd been sitting hunched up over Blair's bed for too many hours, but hadn't wanted to leave in case he woke up. With one last fond look he headed for the doors.
Megan bent over the man in the bed and put both hands round his face. "Get better, Sandy. Jim's been like a bear with a sore head since you left Cascade. See you tomorrow." She kissed him on the forehead and followed her colleague out of the room.
"I heard that, Connor."
JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB JBJBJBJB
The jungle was quiet as the setting sun sank below the treetops. The grey wolf and black panther loped together into the clearing and drank from the stream running through it. The hunting had been good that day and they were both tired, but sated. Finding a pile of fragrant leaves the wolf lay down with its head on its paws. It watched as the panther padded round it twice then lay down curling its body around the smaller animal. Giving the wolf's ears a couple of swipes with its tongue the large cat laid its head onto the fur-covered back. As night fell the two animals slept.