Dead Wrong

If there was one thing that defined Myka Bering; Secret Service Agent, it was discipline. There wasn't a paragraph; no, make that sentence; in the department's manual that she didn't know. Of course, she did have an eidetic memory that aided her in that feat. Still, no one on the force seemed to live, breathe and demonstrate the rules quite like Agent Bering.

Of course, that was all before she went to New York.

"Bering, you'll be in Manhattan three days before the President arrives. We need to make sure that everything is in place. And given your short romance with medicine, I decided you'd be perfect to check out the medical team. You don't have any issue with that, do you?" her superior asked. No one could seem to let go of the fact that Myka had been prelaw and premed in college.

"No, ma'am," Myka said, standing practically at attention.

"I want the background of every member of that team checked and I want them interviewed. Never really liked doctors myself," the woman revealed in a rare moment of self-disclosure.

"Is that true, ma'am?" Myka asked.

"Yeah, I don't trust them," the woman summed it up and stopped. "Just make sure we have the best team available to us. And let's pray we don't need them."

"Yes, ma'am," Agent Bering said and nodded as she left the room.

"Going to New York?" her fellow agent and partner asked.

"Yes, Lattimer. Are you?" Myka asked.

"Indeed I am," the more relaxed of the duo said. "Seems they need a handsome, dashing, man-about-town to help interview the medical staff. You know, pretty nurses, doctors who are good with their hands," he fantasized waving his hands.

"Lattimer!" Myka called him back to attention. "I hope one of them is a psychiatrist," she moaned as they readied for their trip.

A few hours later, the agents arrived in the heart of Manhattan and settled into their hotel. Given the budget on which they traveled, it didn't surprise Myka that the hotel was a two star on its best day. What did surprise her was that there was only one room available.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no!" Myka declared at the front desk.

"I'm sorry Ms. Bering. Your agency specifically asked for one room. We're totally booked," the man apologized.

"Please tell me there are two…," Myka had her eyes closed when he informed her that the room had a king size bed.

"Oh, Jesus," Myka said, bowing her head.

"Myks," Pete said, trying to get her to look on the bright side. "Chances are I won't even be here after interrogating all those nurses; if you get my drift," he said in a low sing-song voice.

"Interview, Pete. Not interrogate," Myka clarified.

"Whatever," Pete said and took the card key for the room. "We're good," he informed the man at the desk.

The first thing Myka did was to divide the bed in half. She took the pillows and lined them up from top to bottom of the bed down the middle.

"Your side; my side," she informed her partner.

"I can't even see over…," he noted and Myka told him that was the point.

Pete was anxiously awaiting the opportunity to interview the medical team. "Got your questions?" he asked as he and his hotel-mate were riding up in the elevator at the hospital.

Myka pulled on her aviator glasses and looked over them at him; casting him a look. "Oh, right – that photogenic memory thing," he said incorrectly.

When they arrived on the hospital floor, they were greeted by the woman who ran the entire hospital. Dr. Warren was a friendly, warm person who had everything ready for the agents.

"I have a list of the staff that would be ready, should any emergency arise," she assured them, handing them the list of candidates. "And then these are their resumes."

Pete grabbed his list and quickly looked down it "I'll take this one, that one, this one, those two," he ticked off as he read the obvious female names. "Medical examiner? Is that the guy who deals with dead people?"

The woman in charge cleared her throat as Myka smiled uncomfortably at her partner's blunt question. "Yes, Agent Lattimer, Dr. Wells is the coroner."

"He deals with dead people," Pete repeated. "You know, I read once, that those people go into that, because let's face it, who wants to deal with dead people? Because they're not good with the living." He looked at Myka's wide-eyed expression and the Head Doctor's stunned look. "I just read that… once."

"I'll take Doctor Wells," Myka smiled to save them any more embarrassment.

"I'm sure Doctor Wells will be greatly relieved," Doctor Warren said. "Shall we?" she got up and motioned for the agents to join her so they could conduct their interviews.

"I don't mind telling you, partner," Pete whispered to Myka and tried to continue, but she put her hand up in the air.

"If you think I want to hear about you and your hospital fantasies, you're mistaken," Myka informed him.

"Oh," Pete said, disappointed. He had quite a few to choose from. "Okay," he said, looking at his list. "I have Leslie Manning," he smiled, looking for the prettiest nurse in the room. "Leslie?" he called out.

"How you doing?" said a six-foot strapping man. He smiled when he saw the hesitation in the Secret Service Agent's face. "Not what you were expecting?"

"No! I mean, yeah, no problem," Pete said and then looked down the list. He turned away and pulled his partner closer. "Myka, I changed my mind. Give me the dude who deals with the dead."

"What? No!" Myka said, annoyed at her partner's lack of seriousness about their mission.

"Come on, Myka," Pete pleaded. She actually thought it over because the man could whine up a storm and truthfully, it made no difference to her.

But then, Doctor Wells walked into the room.

"Holy crap! That's Doctor Wells?" Pete asked and tried to grab the paper from Myka's hand. "I'll take..."

"Fine!" Myka said, not wanting her partner to make a scene. She switched resumes with him.

Pete all but ran to the medical examiner's side. "Agent Pete Lattimer," he introduced himself, as Myka looked over Nurse Manning's qualifications.

Then, she heard the doctor speak. It was the sultriest voice she had ever heard, wrapped in the most exquisite British accent. Myka's head shot up immediately to look and was embarrassed when she noticed Dr. Wells was already staring at her.

"Thank you, Agent Lattimer," Doctor Wells said slowly, "…but I was rather hoping to work with Agent Bering. You see, I've done my homework on you, too," she continued, but was looking at Myka. "And Agent Bering was premed in college. I think she's a better fit to interview me," the doctor concluded.

Myka felt as if she were suddenly in suspended animation under the stranger's gaze. She was feet away from Myka, and yet, she felt warmness radiate throughout her exterior. The woman had just reduced her to stammering as she tried to collect her thoughts. "Shhhure," Myka said, trying to act nonchalant, dragging the word out. "I can do that."

Myka was almost certain she heard the doctor reply; "Oh, I'm certain you can."

"Fine," Pete said, switching resumes again. "Let's go, Les-lie."

"Why don't we go to my office," Doctor Wells suggested and Myka nodded her head.

Then, the woman in the white coat turned, her dark hair swishing as she did, and led the agent down the hallway to her office. Myka was so busy staring, that it took her a second to catch up.

"Please come in," Doctor Wells smiled as she ushered Agent Bering inside. She sat down in a leather chair, across from a second chair that Myka took. Myka caught long legs crossing over slowly as the doctor settled back.

"Okay," Myka said, noticing her hands seems to have the slightest tremor that she prayed was not noticeable. "Let's begin," Myka cleared her throat and picked up the doctor's curriculum vitae.

"Oh, yes, let's," Doctor Wells smiled and waited for the Agent to begin her questions.

The Agent in charge didn't know it yet, but Doctor Wells had already decided that this interview would be best conducted… over dinner.