Part 2
Case Subject: Eberts, Albert B.
Trying to figure out what is wrong with Eberts is trying to a germ culture for the very first time in biology class, but not listening to the teacher, -or- cracking open your book once.He seems in a way like the exact model for a man after tragedy who would suffer what we in the know call PTSD, -or- post tramatic stress disorder. I have seen none of the classic sympthoms displayed as of yet.He is not guilty about being alive still, well he probably shouldn't be displaying that sympthom, though every time Alex comes near him, he puts her on a guilt trip about being a big hero. It is kind of amusing, after all the pushing around she does of everyone, but I would never tell her that.He is not plagued with dreams -or- nightmares about the incident, the little times I have gotten him to go to sleep. He says he is exhausted but doesn't want many drugs to help him sleep. Though his back aches, and keeps him awake. He will not heed my advice that he needs to rest, maybe I can get him to listen to me after his phone call from his friend in the FBI.
The Official is not a big fan of the FBI, and everyone knows it especially Eberts, so when someone from their has enough odadious and security clearance to call, we run the call through, oh course, I can see the Official sitting on his desk listening in, he wants to make sure no one tries and persuades any of our people to join them. It would not suprise me, if one of them did try this little trick, we are very underpaid, and underfunded, it is easy for them to dangle money in our faces, and most of us would probably accept it. After things like this, when words get around about mistakes we made, you can bet one of the FBI will call. I really do not think Eberts should be permitted phone calls at this stage, he is extremelly stressed, and a bit over the edge. When the call came though, I had to let it through, The Official wants to know how much they are offering Eberts.
I am looking at Eberts medical records, it took me an hour to have the Official unseal the whole thing. It seems Eberts has a history of psychological problems, not as bad as Hobbes, but he has suffered deep bouts of depression. One time in college, he had locked himself in his dorm room, and tried to hang himself. That doesn't suprise me, yet it does. I knew him in high school, and then like he is now, he was quiet, but he seemed relatively happy. I am wondering now if that is a facade he wears. I hear a small chuckle behind me, I listen closer. Eberts is joking about something he did in college.The FBI agent obviously knows what he is talking about. Maybe I can get some answers from him, I wonder if the Official is tracing the call. I will go see.
"Eberts, Sweetheart, I will be right back."
Eberts nods.
I depart through the sliding door, and walk down the cold hallway. I have never liked these hallways, something about the linoleum tiles freaks me out, and I enter into the official's mostly empty, and airy office.He has his phone pressed against his ear. I knew he would though. He drops the phone on the desk, when I come in. He picks it up and hangs it up guiltily.
"Spying on your assistant, that's not very nice." I say in a joking manner. I know the answer to this already, and I really do not have to ask.
"Listening, why would I be listening?" He says, trying to be innocent, but he can't hide it.
"Afraid he may be taken by the FBI." I tell him, I sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk. I cross my legs.
"Yes, in a way, this friend of his is one, I always catch him playing battleship with when I go into his office. It would be very easy for the high up to drop a buzz in his ear about hiring Eberts." The Official truthfully admits. He really is worried about losing Eberts, Eberts does a lot of good work around here. Though it is odd, how only at times like this, we realize his worth.
"So, you know where the call is coming from?" I want to make this as short as possible, I am not in the mood for smalltalk.
"Atlanta, VCTF division, -or- something. Some little subdivision." The Official comments. He glares at me. "Why?"
"I was thinking I can ask him some questions about Eberts, maybe it will help determine what is going through his head, he isn't talking much to anyone here." I am sure he can answer a lot of questions, that Eberts will not answer us, because he is not the most open person in the world to any of us. I think it may because the official has him on such a short leash. He is a very well trained circus seal, when he needs to be.
"He never talks to anyone much here." The Official comments. He pulls a slip of paper out. "Here's the number, I hope it helps."
"Thank you." I say and head back to the lab.
Case Subject: Eberts, Albert B.
Trying to figure out what is wrong with Eberts is trying to a germ culture for the very first time in biology class, but not listening to the teacher, -or- cracking open your book once.He seems in a way like the exact model for a man after tragedy who would suffer what we in the know call PTSD, -or- post tramatic stress disorder. I have seen none of the classic sympthoms displayed as of yet.He is not guilty about being alive still, well he probably shouldn't be displaying that sympthom, though every time Alex comes near him, he puts her on a guilt trip about being a big hero. It is kind of amusing, after all the pushing around she does of everyone, but I would never tell her that.He is not plagued with dreams -or- nightmares about the incident, the little times I have gotten him to go to sleep. He says he is exhausted but doesn't want many drugs to help him sleep. Though his back aches, and keeps him awake. He will not heed my advice that he needs to rest, maybe I can get him to listen to me after his phone call from his friend in the FBI.
The Official is not a big fan of the FBI, and everyone knows it especially Eberts, so when someone from their has enough odadious and security clearance to call, we run the call through, oh course, I can see the Official sitting on his desk listening in, he wants to make sure no one tries and persuades any of our people to join them. It would not suprise me, if one of them did try this little trick, we are very underpaid, and underfunded, it is easy for them to dangle money in our faces, and most of us would probably accept it. After things like this, when words get around about mistakes we made, you can bet one of the FBI will call. I really do not think Eberts should be permitted phone calls at this stage, he is extremelly stressed, and a bit over the edge. When the call came though, I had to let it through, The Official wants to know how much they are offering Eberts.
I am looking at Eberts medical records, it took me an hour to have the Official unseal the whole thing. It seems Eberts has a history of psychological problems, not as bad as Hobbes, but he has suffered deep bouts of depression. One time in college, he had locked himself in his dorm room, and tried to hang himself. That doesn't suprise me, yet it does. I knew him in high school, and then like he is now, he was quiet, but he seemed relatively happy. I am wondering now if that is a facade he wears. I hear a small chuckle behind me, I listen closer. Eberts is joking about something he did in college.The FBI agent obviously knows what he is talking about. Maybe I can get some answers from him, I wonder if the Official is tracing the call. I will go see.
"Eberts, Sweetheart, I will be right back."
Eberts nods.
I depart through the sliding door, and walk down the cold hallway. I have never liked these hallways, something about the linoleum tiles freaks me out, and I enter into the official's mostly empty, and airy office.He has his phone pressed against his ear. I knew he would though. He drops the phone on the desk, when I come in. He picks it up and hangs it up guiltily.
"Spying on your assistant, that's not very nice." I say in a joking manner. I know the answer to this already, and I really do not have to ask.
"Listening, why would I be listening?" He says, trying to be innocent, but he can't hide it.
"Afraid he may be taken by the FBI." I tell him, I sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk. I cross my legs.
"Yes, in a way, this friend of his is one, I always catch him playing battleship with when I go into his office. It would be very easy for the high up to drop a buzz in his ear about hiring Eberts." The Official truthfully admits. He really is worried about losing Eberts, Eberts does a lot of good work around here. Though it is odd, how only at times like this, we realize his worth.
"So, you know where the call is coming from?" I want to make this as short as possible, I am not in the mood for smalltalk.
"Atlanta, VCTF division, -or- something. Some little subdivision." The Official comments. He glares at me. "Why?"
"I was thinking I can ask him some questions about Eberts, maybe it will help determine what is going through his head, he isn't talking much to anyone here." I am sure he can answer a lot of questions, that Eberts will not answer us, because he is not the most open person in the world to any of us. I think it may because the official has him on such a short leash. He is a very well trained circus seal, when he needs to be.
"He never talks to anyone much here." The Official comments. He pulls a slip of paper out. "Here's the number, I hope it helps."
"Thank you." I say and head back to the lab.