Ground Zero
Chapter Four
**********
August 21. 0745. Hospital Cafeteria.
Morales followed Doc across the floor carrying a tray of sandwiches and coffee. He choose a table and pulled out a seat for the doctor and his live-in girlfriend. Ever since her patient had been escorted out of the hospital, Doc had been dying to know more. She had mentioned this and that at home, but not enough to satisfy him. And with what Kim had told everyone at the station this morning about her suspicions with the Clarkeson accident, Doc started in on Morales immediately. "The Chief Medical Officer of the U.S Army authorized his transfer? Are you sure?"
Morales passed him a sandwich, nodding her head. "That's right," she replied in a conspiratory whisper. "That's what the papers said. He was being transferred to Walter Reed Hospital in Washington DC."
"That's the big military hospital isn't it?" asked Doc, reaching for the sugar. "Who was he?"
Morales regarded him evenly. "Let's not turn this into a soap opera," she said. "He's no longer our responsibility."
But Doc had a way of getting what he wanted; even from the hardnosed Morales. He gave her one of his don't- mess-with-a- man-on-a-mission looks, and grabbed her hand.
Morales surrendered under his touch.
"His name was Mark Anderson. The papers didn't say much about his affiliations. Just that he was to be transferred, no questions asked." Morales took a bite of her sandwich and grabbed a napkin. "But what I'd really like to talk about is that police officer, Bill Roberts, that came in yesterday. He had the exact same symptoms as Mr. Mysterio, and I can't figure out what's causing them. His colleagues weren't much help- and neither is the officer for that matter."
Doc shook his head sighing. "The one you told me Bosco and Yokas brought in? The one all freaked out?"
"Well now he's the complete opposite. He's practically paralyzed!" Morales didn't mean to raise her voice in frustration, but she couldn't help it. It had been a difficult last few days. The hospital had been dealing with mysterious people and symptoms, and no one seemed to have any answers. "There has to be a connection between these two people," she queried, taking a sip of her coffee.
"Hey," Doc tightened his grip. "You said the officers were pulling his duty logs. They might find something there."
"Hello," chimed Carlos, sidling up to the table. Doc and Morales nodded, suspending their conversation, and mimed an offer to join them.
"No, that's all right," replied Carlos with a smile. "I just came to tell you the blood work's in now."
"The police officer's?" asked Morales, throwing Doc a glance.
"Yup, that's the one," Carlos replied, reaching for the sandwich in from of his partner. "Heard them talking about it in the emerge. Just thought you'd like to know."
Morales pushed her seat out from the table. "Thanks, Carlos," she said. Then she nodded at Doc. "You coming?"
"Right behind you."
*** *** ***
August 21. 0825h. Jimmy's apartment.
Jimmy heard his alarm blaring. He lay on his back, willing it to turn off. That was all he could do. For some reason his muscles weren't receiving the messages his brain was sending. He couldn't move.
It had taken him almost five minutes just to get his arm off his forehead. And the effort had been exhausting. His body felt like it hadn't slept in weeks. His muscles were too tired to move, so he lay there. Still. His mind screaming for relief. And answers.
But he knew he couldn't just lie there. He had to get up. And fortunately, he now recognized the need for help.
Jimmy squeezed his eyes shut, trying to concentrate on his task: getting to the phone. But every time he tried to concentrate, his mind would wander. He couldn't think straight. He couldn't move. And he was beginning to panic. It also didn't help that the pain in his stomach had returned with a vengeance.
*The phone. The phone. I need to get to the... Where's Kim?... I need gas in my car... No! The phone!... The right side of an isosceles triangle... No! I need to get to the phone! * His sub-conscious was battling the conscious, and winning.
Summoning all the control he could, which wasn't much, Jimmy threw his right shoulder over trying to gain some momentum to roll over. He landed on his side, staring at the phone on his bedside table. It was just a few inches away, taunting him. 'Come and get me Jimmy. Just reach out and touch someone- '
*Shut up! Just shut up! I'll get you!...Just give me a sec.'*
Finally he was able to get his hand up to the table. He wrapped his fingers around the base of the phone, pulling it slowly towards the edge It was an impossibly long, exhausting process. Each movement a pained effort. He had to stop and rest every few seconds. *Come on, Jimmy. You can do this, it's only a phone. You've lifted heavier things than this before.*
With one final effort, he pulled the phone off the table. It landed with a crash on the pillow beside his face. He took in a deep breath. He wanted desperately to give up. To go to sleep. But he couldn't do that. He couldn't allow himself to fall asleep.
He would have called 911, but couldn't remember how to dial the number. Only his ex-wife's was obvious in his mind. He began dialing, his finger limp, weak and trembling. His eyes kept closing. He had to force them to stay open.
Jimmy rolled his head as close to the receiver as he could. After a few rings someone answered
"Kim- " he said, his voice barely audible.
"Hello?" asked a voice that did not belong to Kim.
"Kim- "
"Jimmy? Is that you?"
There was no response. "Jimmy is that you? Are you all right? This is Kim's mother. I'm watching Joey today. Jimmy? Is everything all right?"
"Kim- "
Kim's mother was sure that she recognized the voice. With her heart racing she continued calling into the phone. But Jimmy wasn't answering any more. "Jimmy, I'm going to get help. I'm gonna go next door and use their phone. Don't hang up. Can you hear me? Jimmy?!"
Slow labored breaths was the only response.
*** *** ***
August 21. 0855h. Station 55.
"Kim! Phone call!" called Bobby, his voice carrying through the station.
Kim closed her locker and rushed to the kitchen. She was hoping it was Jimmy, but when she picked up the receiver she recognized her mother's voice.
"Mom... all right, calm down..." Kim urged, throwing Bobby a concerned look. Her partner remained close by.
"Okay, okay, slow down," continued Kim. "Start at the beginning. Uh huh. Are you sure it's Jimmy?... He's still on the line?... Okay... Go home and stay on the line with him. Keep talking to him... Yeah, C-shift is just coming in now, but I'll follow them over. All right... I'm leaving right now." Kim hung up the receiver, quickly heading into the bay.
Bobby followed.
*** *** ***
August 21 1000h. Dr.Morales' office.
Kim was wearing a hole in the doctor's rug pacing back and forth. It was driving Bobby crazy. He couldn't take it any longer. "Kim. Sit down."
Kim stopped midstep and stared at her partner.
"That's an order." Bobby patted the chair beside him, waving her over. "We're all worried, but pacing isn't going to help. The Dr.Morales will be here as soon as she can."
Kim reluctantly took the seat and sank back into the leather. She leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling. "Oh man," she sighed, closing her eyes. "He looked so helpless lying there. Why..."
"Don't even start with the why's or what if's. They won't do any good now," interrupted Bobby. "Besides, this is Jimmy were talking about here. The man of a thousand lives."
Kim let out a soft laugh, but her heart wasn't in it. Her ex-husband was damn near paralyzed and she couldn't do anything about it. Jimmy was in the hands of the doctor's at the hospital now, whom she trusted wholeheartedly, but she couldn't help but worry. And of course wonder how this had all happened.
Morales had briefed them when Jimmy had come in, but it wasn't encouraging. She had mentioned a possible cause, but had wanted to make sure before saying anything further. Now Kim and Bobby were waiting impatiently for the news in her office.
Morales hadn't been specific, but Kim suspected that whatever was affecting Jimmy was somehow linked to the tanker accident on the Clarkeson. She had wanted to speak her suspicions, but right now she was more interested in Jimmy's well being. She was also hoping for some other explanation. Actually, she was praying there was some other explanation, because the Clarkeson incident just reeked of all things dangerous and deadly.
Doc and Carlos had been in the emerge when they had arrived, and had taken up phone duty in the interim. They called the rest of the third watch at station 55, and Kim's mother before joining them in the office. So now they were all waiting.
After an eternity, Morales finally came into her office. Everyone bolted upright in their chairs, but the doctor silenced them before they could say anything "Are any of you familiar with Berkelium Tetra-chlorine?" asked Morales, dropping a folder on her desk as she took a seat.
Doc paled. His eyes darting around the room. "You're joking? You're kidding, right? This is some sort of a joke?"
Morales pursed her lips into a straight line. "I'm afraid not. It's definitely in his system."
"No!" Kim took a calming breath, putting her emotions in check. "There has to be a mistake... Try again."
"Wait. Hold on one second here," said Bobby, waving his hands. "Does someone wanna explain this to the laymen? What exactly is Berkelium Tetra-chlorine?"
Morales raised her eyebrows at Doc. "Do you want to explain this, or shall I?"
"It's a banned substance," Doc started slowly, circling the room. "It's used in the military... Or at least it was supposed to be used in the military. It's an odorless, tasteless gas created for combat situations. The UN banned it's use at the Geneva Convention."
"So why the hell is it in Jimmy?" demanded Kim, her face flush.
"I'm afraid he's not the only victim," replied Morales. "A police officer was brought in with the same symptoms. And I'm pretty sure there was another one too."
"But will Jimmy be all right?" urged Kim, unable to stay in her seat any longer. She leaned over Morales' desk, planting her hands in the middle with diffidence. "Tell me there is something you can do? Some sort of antidote? Something. Anything!"
Morales sighed. "I'm afraid not."
"The only way to stop it's effects, is with a pre-emptive drug," added Doc. He crossed the office, joining Kim at the desk. "But from what I remember, it's not deadly. Just...just...bad. Very, very bad."
"But it could be chronic," supplemented Morales. "It depends on exposure time. But from the amount in his system, I'm leaning towards an acute case. The Police Officer is another story though."
"What officer?" asked Bobby.
"Bill Roberts. He was brought in the other day in the same situation. You know him?"
Bobby nodded.
"He was around the scene of a tanker accident the other day," informed Carlos.
"That must have been ground zero," nodded Morales. "I was able to read over some of Robert's logs and came across that tanker accident. And Jimmy's arrival today verifies my suspicions. That tanker was carrying one helluva gas."
Kim could feel the hair rise on the back of her neck. "The tanker was supposed to be empty. What the hell is going on here?"
Morales drew in a breath, looked at everyone evenly. "I bet my life that tanker wasn't empty. At least not before the accident. I heard all about this Charlie's Chemicals from Officer's Bosco and Yokas. Add in patient transfers signed by the CMO of the US Army and banned gases, and I'd say we got ourselves a true life, guenuine conspiracy."
Everyone was silent. There were too many questions to be asked. Too many loose ends. But first and foremost on their minds was Jimmy.
Morales pulled some papers from her folder, passing them across his desk. "From what I know, this gas has a low vapor pressure, it doesn't evaporate fast. It also has a specific gravity of less than 1, so it sinks to the ground. That's probably why they were affected first. But I'd bet my life others will be coming in soon. Here, or at other hospitals."
"Does Jimmy know about all this? Has someone explained this to him yet?" asked Kim.
"Right now, I don't think he'd understand," replied Morales somberly. "He's pretty out of it. We had to sedate him to keep him calm. A man could go crazy in the state he's in. His body is mostly paralyzed. Yet, his brain irrational, working overtime. And compound on top of that the hostility the chemical inhibits on it's victims."
"So, what do we do now?" asked Bobby, suddenly finding the floor at his feet fascinating.
"We wait," replied Morales. "It will, hopefully, eventually run through his system and then we'll take it from there."
"Oh shit," murmmed Carlos, his eyes wide. "I was near that tanker."
Everyone in the room stared him, unsure what to day. Morales was the first to speak up. "You should get checked out," she ordered, not wanting any delays. "How long were you there?"
Carlos closed his eyes, trying to remember the day. "Only for a minute or so. I went over-" he paused and let his head fall forward. "I went over to see Jimmy. I was only there briefly. Oh god. I broke a piece of the tanker." Carlos looked up at everyone with an expression not usually worn on him; compassion. "I left Jimmy there to fix it."
Morales came out from around her desk and put a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go get you checked out," she said.
Carlos rose from his seat, searching Kim's eyes for some sort of understanding. "I swear I didn't mean anything. I didn't mean to break it. The piece was so small. It was just a ring. It... it didn't even seem important."
Kim drew in a deep breath, ran a hand down her face. "The damage was probably already done before we got there, Carlos," she replied, thinning her lips into a weak smile. "Now go and get checked out."
When they had left, Doc knelt beside her and rested a hand on her knee. "I know Carlos can be-"
Kim raised a hand to silence him. "Don't worry about it," she said. "I don't blame him. Honestly. The wheels were in motion when the tanker flipped over. Really, don't let him fret about this. Let's just hope Jimmy is going to be all right. And that Carlos' tests are clean."
Doc nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Let's all hope."
*** *** ***
Later that day Carlos had been cleared by the blood tests, and Jimmy had been moved into a room with Bill Roberts so they could be monitored closely. Morales allowed visitation, but only one at a time and with her present. Kim went first, while everyone waited in the hallway.
Jimmy was awake when Kim and Morales entered, but Bill was still fast asleep. Kim crossed the room quietly, leaned over the bed. "How ya feeling?" she asked, trying to keep her voice light, her tears hidden. It was hard looking at Jimmy this way, and it was beginning to become all too regular.
Jimmy didn't move. Kim watched as he blinked slowly, fighting the knot forming in her throat. The tubes and monitors Kim could handle. But the obvious fear in Jimmy's eyes was just way too much reality for her to handle.
Jimmy squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing. "My head feels like a frozen pineapple," he mused, refusing to show that fear.
"That will go away," smiled Morales. "Just give it time to run through your system."
"What? What's running through my system?" asked Jimmy, slowly turning his head. It felt very heavy. The movement sent sharp pains through his skull. "Ow..."
"Berkelium Tetra-chlorine," informed Morales. "It's a neurodevelopmental inhibitor which effects the sensory, motor and cognitive functions."
"You're talking to someone who feels like a vegetable, doc. Can you put that in simpler terms?" It was hard enough for Jimmy to focus on the people in the room, he didn't need the added complication of trying to rehash all his chemical training from the Academy.
"That's just about it, Jimmy," explaind Kim. "The gas temporally paralyzes you, but your brain functions start working overtime. You start acting irrationally- Which would explain a few things these past few days."
Jimmy's eyes lit up despite the obvious pain. "Temporary? You said this is temporary? I'm gonna be all right?"
"It looks that way," grinned Morales, giving the firefighter's leg a pat. "You'll just have to suffer through it for awhile."
Jimmy let out a long sigh. It was the only form of release he could manage.
"You see, the gas was produced to use in crowd control," explained Morales. "Only it proved too potent. The military quickly took advantage of it because the applications were too hard for them to resist. It's supposed to be infused into drinking water or soil, but you got it from vapors." She paused, throwing Kim a frown. "I did some research with a friend at the military hospital in Washington."
"Ah," responded Kim, swallowing the lump. "You probably know more about the stuff than the fire department now. The Captain's calling the government now, trying to obtain more information. But I have a feeling they aren't going to be all that forthcoming."
"Well just as long as I'm all right, that's all I care about right now," grinned Jimmy, putting up a brave front. But underneath he was a nervous wreck. He wasn't sure when he would feel safe again.
"You're not the only one, Jimmy." Morales gave Kim a sidelong glance. "You have a roommate. Officer Roberts was brought in too. He's in the bed next to you."
"I'd look over, but I haven't got the strength," replied Jimmy. "How's he doing?"
"He was affected a little more than you due to longer exposure. But he's going to be all right." Morales gave Kim a pat on the shoulder and nodded towards the door. "We should let him rest now. You can come back later."
"You know, I bet he's enjoying this," Kim kidded, smiling at her ex-husband. "Having all those nurses waiting on him hand and foot."
Morales smiled, but Jimmy just closed his eyes. For a brief moment, Kim pleaded with the doctor to give them a moment of privacy. Relenting, the doctor left them alone.
Kim closed the distance between the door and the bed. Gently, she cradled his hand in hers. Jimmy lacked the strength to hold on, but Kim refused to let go. And she couldn't help the tears welling in her eyes.
"How's Joey?" asked Jimmy, running his tongue across his dry lips. "Is he here?"
Kim nodded and turned away. "Yeah, he's downstairs with my mother. I didn't tell him everything. I don't know if he'd understand." She paused, and tightened her grip. "You have to stop doing this you know?"
Jimmy closed his eyes. "Doing what?" he asked.
"Getting yourself hurt. I can't keep living like this," she replied. "And neither can Joey."
"What are you saying?" whispered Jimmy. "I don't ask for this."
Kim smiled weakly. "No. No you don't, Jimmy. But neither do I." She gave his hand an extra squeeze before releasing it and placing it on the bed. Then she turned and left the room.
*** *** ***
Doctor's Lounge. One hour later.
Kim and Morales met up with Doc, Bobby, Carlos and the fire Captain to discuss what further action to take. They had learned five other cases had been reported at surrounding hospitals: two firefighters, one cop and two civilians. But the military was denying any involvement. And one firefighter, Peter Hunt, was quickly slipping. He had not reacted well with the gas.
"They can't flat out deny they had something to do with this!" barked Bobby. "We saw them at the site right after it happened!"
"And I know what we saw on the highway that morning," added Kim, giving her partner a knowing look.
By now, they had all shared their personal experiences and information with each other. Everyone was up to date. But all their evidence and urgings were proving futile.
The military was standing firm on their position. They even denied the existence of Jeff Withers, suggesting he may have been an impostor and they would look into it. But the six people sitting around the table knew differently. And so did the victims.
"So what do we do now?" asked Carlos, refilling everyone's mug with coffee. "We can't let them get away with this."
"We gather as much possible evidence as we can," stated Kim defiantly. "Blood samples, photographs, letters of personal involvement."
"I'll make a call into dispatch," offered the Captain. "They must have a recording of Harris calling in the papers to be confirmed."
"Anything and everything will help," nodded Morales. "Then we'll make a frontal assault. We'll show them everything we've got. They can't cover this up."
*** *** ***
*Author's Note: Gas is bad. Okay, so it runs your car. But other gases, especially ones of the mysterious nature are bad. If you ever run into one, shake your fist at it and run in the other direction, cause like I said, gas is bad. Just ask Jimmy.
Chapter Four
**********
August 21. 0745. Hospital Cafeteria.
Morales followed Doc across the floor carrying a tray of sandwiches and coffee. He choose a table and pulled out a seat for the doctor and his live-in girlfriend. Ever since her patient had been escorted out of the hospital, Doc had been dying to know more. She had mentioned this and that at home, but not enough to satisfy him. And with what Kim had told everyone at the station this morning about her suspicions with the Clarkeson accident, Doc started in on Morales immediately. "The Chief Medical Officer of the U.S Army authorized his transfer? Are you sure?"
Morales passed him a sandwich, nodding her head. "That's right," she replied in a conspiratory whisper. "That's what the papers said. He was being transferred to Walter Reed Hospital in Washington DC."
"That's the big military hospital isn't it?" asked Doc, reaching for the sugar. "Who was he?"
Morales regarded him evenly. "Let's not turn this into a soap opera," she said. "He's no longer our responsibility."
But Doc had a way of getting what he wanted; even from the hardnosed Morales. He gave her one of his don't- mess-with-a- man-on-a-mission looks, and grabbed her hand.
Morales surrendered under his touch.
"His name was Mark Anderson. The papers didn't say much about his affiliations. Just that he was to be transferred, no questions asked." Morales took a bite of her sandwich and grabbed a napkin. "But what I'd really like to talk about is that police officer, Bill Roberts, that came in yesterday. He had the exact same symptoms as Mr. Mysterio, and I can't figure out what's causing them. His colleagues weren't much help- and neither is the officer for that matter."
Doc shook his head sighing. "The one you told me Bosco and Yokas brought in? The one all freaked out?"
"Well now he's the complete opposite. He's practically paralyzed!" Morales didn't mean to raise her voice in frustration, but she couldn't help it. It had been a difficult last few days. The hospital had been dealing with mysterious people and symptoms, and no one seemed to have any answers. "There has to be a connection between these two people," she queried, taking a sip of her coffee.
"Hey," Doc tightened his grip. "You said the officers were pulling his duty logs. They might find something there."
"Hello," chimed Carlos, sidling up to the table. Doc and Morales nodded, suspending their conversation, and mimed an offer to join them.
"No, that's all right," replied Carlos with a smile. "I just came to tell you the blood work's in now."
"The police officer's?" asked Morales, throwing Doc a glance.
"Yup, that's the one," Carlos replied, reaching for the sandwich in from of his partner. "Heard them talking about it in the emerge. Just thought you'd like to know."
Morales pushed her seat out from the table. "Thanks, Carlos," she said. Then she nodded at Doc. "You coming?"
"Right behind you."
*** *** ***
August 21. 0825h. Jimmy's apartment.
Jimmy heard his alarm blaring. He lay on his back, willing it to turn off. That was all he could do. For some reason his muscles weren't receiving the messages his brain was sending. He couldn't move.
It had taken him almost five minutes just to get his arm off his forehead. And the effort had been exhausting. His body felt like it hadn't slept in weeks. His muscles were too tired to move, so he lay there. Still. His mind screaming for relief. And answers.
But he knew he couldn't just lie there. He had to get up. And fortunately, he now recognized the need for help.
Jimmy squeezed his eyes shut, trying to concentrate on his task: getting to the phone. But every time he tried to concentrate, his mind would wander. He couldn't think straight. He couldn't move. And he was beginning to panic. It also didn't help that the pain in his stomach had returned with a vengeance.
*The phone. The phone. I need to get to the... Where's Kim?... I need gas in my car... No! The phone!... The right side of an isosceles triangle... No! I need to get to the phone! * His sub-conscious was battling the conscious, and winning.
Summoning all the control he could, which wasn't much, Jimmy threw his right shoulder over trying to gain some momentum to roll over. He landed on his side, staring at the phone on his bedside table. It was just a few inches away, taunting him. 'Come and get me Jimmy. Just reach out and touch someone- '
*Shut up! Just shut up! I'll get you!...Just give me a sec.'*
Finally he was able to get his hand up to the table. He wrapped his fingers around the base of the phone, pulling it slowly towards the edge It was an impossibly long, exhausting process. Each movement a pained effort. He had to stop and rest every few seconds. *Come on, Jimmy. You can do this, it's only a phone. You've lifted heavier things than this before.*
With one final effort, he pulled the phone off the table. It landed with a crash on the pillow beside his face. He took in a deep breath. He wanted desperately to give up. To go to sleep. But he couldn't do that. He couldn't allow himself to fall asleep.
He would have called 911, but couldn't remember how to dial the number. Only his ex-wife's was obvious in his mind. He began dialing, his finger limp, weak and trembling. His eyes kept closing. He had to force them to stay open.
Jimmy rolled his head as close to the receiver as he could. After a few rings someone answered
"Kim- " he said, his voice barely audible.
"Hello?" asked a voice that did not belong to Kim.
"Kim- "
"Jimmy? Is that you?"
There was no response. "Jimmy is that you? Are you all right? This is Kim's mother. I'm watching Joey today. Jimmy? Is everything all right?"
"Kim- "
Kim's mother was sure that she recognized the voice. With her heart racing she continued calling into the phone. But Jimmy wasn't answering any more. "Jimmy, I'm going to get help. I'm gonna go next door and use their phone. Don't hang up. Can you hear me? Jimmy?!"
Slow labored breaths was the only response.
*** *** ***
August 21. 0855h. Station 55.
"Kim! Phone call!" called Bobby, his voice carrying through the station.
Kim closed her locker and rushed to the kitchen. She was hoping it was Jimmy, but when she picked up the receiver she recognized her mother's voice.
"Mom... all right, calm down..." Kim urged, throwing Bobby a concerned look. Her partner remained close by.
"Okay, okay, slow down," continued Kim. "Start at the beginning. Uh huh. Are you sure it's Jimmy?... He's still on the line?... Okay... Go home and stay on the line with him. Keep talking to him... Yeah, C-shift is just coming in now, but I'll follow them over. All right... I'm leaving right now." Kim hung up the receiver, quickly heading into the bay.
Bobby followed.
*** *** ***
August 21 1000h. Dr.Morales' office.
Kim was wearing a hole in the doctor's rug pacing back and forth. It was driving Bobby crazy. He couldn't take it any longer. "Kim. Sit down."
Kim stopped midstep and stared at her partner.
"That's an order." Bobby patted the chair beside him, waving her over. "We're all worried, but pacing isn't going to help. The Dr.Morales will be here as soon as she can."
Kim reluctantly took the seat and sank back into the leather. She leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling. "Oh man," she sighed, closing her eyes. "He looked so helpless lying there. Why..."
"Don't even start with the why's or what if's. They won't do any good now," interrupted Bobby. "Besides, this is Jimmy were talking about here. The man of a thousand lives."
Kim let out a soft laugh, but her heart wasn't in it. Her ex-husband was damn near paralyzed and she couldn't do anything about it. Jimmy was in the hands of the doctor's at the hospital now, whom she trusted wholeheartedly, but she couldn't help but worry. And of course wonder how this had all happened.
Morales had briefed them when Jimmy had come in, but it wasn't encouraging. She had mentioned a possible cause, but had wanted to make sure before saying anything further. Now Kim and Bobby were waiting impatiently for the news in her office.
Morales hadn't been specific, but Kim suspected that whatever was affecting Jimmy was somehow linked to the tanker accident on the Clarkeson. She had wanted to speak her suspicions, but right now she was more interested in Jimmy's well being. She was also hoping for some other explanation. Actually, she was praying there was some other explanation, because the Clarkeson incident just reeked of all things dangerous and deadly.
Doc and Carlos had been in the emerge when they had arrived, and had taken up phone duty in the interim. They called the rest of the third watch at station 55, and Kim's mother before joining them in the office. So now they were all waiting.
After an eternity, Morales finally came into her office. Everyone bolted upright in their chairs, but the doctor silenced them before they could say anything "Are any of you familiar with Berkelium Tetra-chlorine?" asked Morales, dropping a folder on her desk as she took a seat.
Doc paled. His eyes darting around the room. "You're joking? You're kidding, right? This is some sort of a joke?"
Morales pursed her lips into a straight line. "I'm afraid not. It's definitely in his system."
"No!" Kim took a calming breath, putting her emotions in check. "There has to be a mistake... Try again."
"Wait. Hold on one second here," said Bobby, waving his hands. "Does someone wanna explain this to the laymen? What exactly is Berkelium Tetra-chlorine?"
Morales raised her eyebrows at Doc. "Do you want to explain this, or shall I?"
"It's a banned substance," Doc started slowly, circling the room. "It's used in the military... Or at least it was supposed to be used in the military. It's an odorless, tasteless gas created for combat situations. The UN banned it's use at the Geneva Convention."
"So why the hell is it in Jimmy?" demanded Kim, her face flush.
"I'm afraid he's not the only victim," replied Morales. "A police officer was brought in with the same symptoms. And I'm pretty sure there was another one too."
"But will Jimmy be all right?" urged Kim, unable to stay in her seat any longer. She leaned over Morales' desk, planting her hands in the middle with diffidence. "Tell me there is something you can do? Some sort of antidote? Something. Anything!"
Morales sighed. "I'm afraid not."
"The only way to stop it's effects, is with a pre-emptive drug," added Doc. He crossed the office, joining Kim at the desk. "But from what I remember, it's not deadly. Just...just...bad. Very, very bad."
"But it could be chronic," supplemented Morales. "It depends on exposure time. But from the amount in his system, I'm leaning towards an acute case. The Police Officer is another story though."
"What officer?" asked Bobby.
"Bill Roberts. He was brought in the other day in the same situation. You know him?"
Bobby nodded.
"He was around the scene of a tanker accident the other day," informed Carlos.
"That must have been ground zero," nodded Morales. "I was able to read over some of Robert's logs and came across that tanker accident. And Jimmy's arrival today verifies my suspicions. That tanker was carrying one helluva gas."
Kim could feel the hair rise on the back of her neck. "The tanker was supposed to be empty. What the hell is going on here?"
Morales drew in a breath, looked at everyone evenly. "I bet my life that tanker wasn't empty. At least not before the accident. I heard all about this Charlie's Chemicals from Officer's Bosco and Yokas. Add in patient transfers signed by the CMO of the US Army and banned gases, and I'd say we got ourselves a true life, guenuine conspiracy."
Everyone was silent. There were too many questions to be asked. Too many loose ends. But first and foremost on their minds was Jimmy.
Morales pulled some papers from her folder, passing them across his desk. "From what I know, this gas has a low vapor pressure, it doesn't evaporate fast. It also has a specific gravity of less than 1, so it sinks to the ground. That's probably why they were affected first. But I'd bet my life others will be coming in soon. Here, or at other hospitals."
"Does Jimmy know about all this? Has someone explained this to him yet?" asked Kim.
"Right now, I don't think he'd understand," replied Morales somberly. "He's pretty out of it. We had to sedate him to keep him calm. A man could go crazy in the state he's in. His body is mostly paralyzed. Yet, his brain irrational, working overtime. And compound on top of that the hostility the chemical inhibits on it's victims."
"So, what do we do now?" asked Bobby, suddenly finding the floor at his feet fascinating.
"We wait," replied Morales. "It will, hopefully, eventually run through his system and then we'll take it from there."
"Oh shit," murmmed Carlos, his eyes wide. "I was near that tanker."
Everyone in the room stared him, unsure what to day. Morales was the first to speak up. "You should get checked out," she ordered, not wanting any delays. "How long were you there?"
Carlos closed his eyes, trying to remember the day. "Only for a minute or so. I went over-" he paused and let his head fall forward. "I went over to see Jimmy. I was only there briefly. Oh god. I broke a piece of the tanker." Carlos looked up at everyone with an expression not usually worn on him; compassion. "I left Jimmy there to fix it."
Morales came out from around her desk and put a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go get you checked out," she said.
Carlos rose from his seat, searching Kim's eyes for some sort of understanding. "I swear I didn't mean anything. I didn't mean to break it. The piece was so small. It was just a ring. It... it didn't even seem important."
Kim drew in a deep breath, ran a hand down her face. "The damage was probably already done before we got there, Carlos," she replied, thinning her lips into a weak smile. "Now go and get checked out."
When they had left, Doc knelt beside her and rested a hand on her knee. "I know Carlos can be-"
Kim raised a hand to silence him. "Don't worry about it," she said. "I don't blame him. Honestly. The wheels were in motion when the tanker flipped over. Really, don't let him fret about this. Let's just hope Jimmy is going to be all right. And that Carlos' tests are clean."
Doc nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Let's all hope."
*** *** ***
Later that day Carlos had been cleared by the blood tests, and Jimmy had been moved into a room with Bill Roberts so they could be monitored closely. Morales allowed visitation, but only one at a time and with her present. Kim went first, while everyone waited in the hallway.
Jimmy was awake when Kim and Morales entered, but Bill was still fast asleep. Kim crossed the room quietly, leaned over the bed. "How ya feeling?" she asked, trying to keep her voice light, her tears hidden. It was hard looking at Jimmy this way, and it was beginning to become all too regular.
Jimmy didn't move. Kim watched as he blinked slowly, fighting the knot forming in her throat. The tubes and monitors Kim could handle. But the obvious fear in Jimmy's eyes was just way too much reality for her to handle.
Jimmy squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing. "My head feels like a frozen pineapple," he mused, refusing to show that fear.
"That will go away," smiled Morales. "Just give it time to run through your system."
"What? What's running through my system?" asked Jimmy, slowly turning his head. It felt very heavy. The movement sent sharp pains through his skull. "Ow..."
"Berkelium Tetra-chlorine," informed Morales. "It's a neurodevelopmental inhibitor which effects the sensory, motor and cognitive functions."
"You're talking to someone who feels like a vegetable, doc. Can you put that in simpler terms?" It was hard enough for Jimmy to focus on the people in the room, he didn't need the added complication of trying to rehash all his chemical training from the Academy.
"That's just about it, Jimmy," explaind Kim. "The gas temporally paralyzes you, but your brain functions start working overtime. You start acting irrationally- Which would explain a few things these past few days."
Jimmy's eyes lit up despite the obvious pain. "Temporary? You said this is temporary? I'm gonna be all right?"
"It looks that way," grinned Morales, giving the firefighter's leg a pat. "You'll just have to suffer through it for awhile."
Jimmy let out a long sigh. It was the only form of release he could manage.
"You see, the gas was produced to use in crowd control," explained Morales. "Only it proved too potent. The military quickly took advantage of it because the applications were too hard for them to resist. It's supposed to be infused into drinking water or soil, but you got it from vapors." She paused, throwing Kim a frown. "I did some research with a friend at the military hospital in Washington."
"Ah," responded Kim, swallowing the lump. "You probably know more about the stuff than the fire department now. The Captain's calling the government now, trying to obtain more information. But I have a feeling they aren't going to be all that forthcoming."
"Well just as long as I'm all right, that's all I care about right now," grinned Jimmy, putting up a brave front. But underneath he was a nervous wreck. He wasn't sure when he would feel safe again.
"You're not the only one, Jimmy." Morales gave Kim a sidelong glance. "You have a roommate. Officer Roberts was brought in too. He's in the bed next to you."
"I'd look over, but I haven't got the strength," replied Jimmy. "How's he doing?"
"He was affected a little more than you due to longer exposure. But he's going to be all right." Morales gave Kim a pat on the shoulder and nodded towards the door. "We should let him rest now. You can come back later."
"You know, I bet he's enjoying this," Kim kidded, smiling at her ex-husband. "Having all those nurses waiting on him hand and foot."
Morales smiled, but Jimmy just closed his eyes. For a brief moment, Kim pleaded with the doctor to give them a moment of privacy. Relenting, the doctor left them alone.
Kim closed the distance between the door and the bed. Gently, she cradled his hand in hers. Jimmy lacked the strength to hold on, but Kim refused to let go. And she couldn't help the tears welling in her eyes.
"How's Joey?" asked Jimmy, running his tongue across his dry lips. "Is he here?"
Kim nodded and turned away. "Yeah, he's downstairs with my mother. I didn't tell him everything. I don't know if he'd understand." She paused, and tightened her grip. "You have to stop doing this you know?"
Jimmy closed his eyes. "Doing what?" he asked.
"Getting yourself hurt. I can't keep living like this," she replied. "And neither can Joey."
"What are you saying?" whispered Jimmy. "I don't ask for this."
Kim smiled weakly. "No. No you don't, Jimmy. But neither do I." She gave his hand an extra squeeze before releasing it and placing it on the bed. Then she turned and left the room.
*** *** ***
Doctor's Lounge. One hour later.
Kim and Morales met up with Doc, Bobby, Carlos and the fire Captain to discuss what further action to take. They had learned five other cases had been reported at surrounding hospitals: two firefighters, one cop and two civilians. But the military was denying any involvement. And one firefighter, Peter Hunt, was quickly slipping. He had not reacted well with the gas.
"They can't flat out deny they had something to do with this!" barked Bobby. "We saw them at the site right after it happened!"
"And I know what we saw on the highway that morning," added Kim, giving her partner a knowing look.
By now, they had all shared their personal experiences and information with each other. Everyone was up to date. But all their evidence and urgings were proving futile.
The military was standing firm on their position. They even denied the existence of Jeff Withers, suggesting he may have been an impostor and they would look into it. But the six people sitting around the table knew differently. And so did the victims.
"So what do we do now?" asked Carlos, refilling everyone's mug with coffee. "We can't let them get away with this."
"We gather as much possible evidence as we can," stated Kim defiantly. "Blood samples, photographs, letters of personal involvement."
"I'll make a call into dispatch," offered the Captain. "They must have a recording of Harris calling in the papers to be confirmed."
"Anything and everything will help," nodded Morales. "Then we'll make a frontal assault. We'll show them everything we've got. They can't cover this up."
*** *** ***
*Author's Note: Gas is bad. Okay, so it runs your car. But other gases, especially ones of the mysterious nature are bad. If you ever run into one, shake your fist at it and run in the other direction, cause like I said, gas is bad. Just ask Jimmy.