CHAPTER SIX











To his surprise, there weren't any agents waiting at the door. That in itself caused the hairs to rise on Murdock's neck. It wasn't like Stockwell. Unless, he thought, the others have been picked up already. Still, there should have been at least one Able posted there.
It took every ounce of control to walk casually across the room toward the elevators. He hesitated there, then moved to the stairwell door beside them. He glanced back at the desk. The person there was absorbed in a magazine, and paid no attention to him. Opening the door, he slipped quickly into the stairwell and climbed to the next floor. He paused at the landing, looking through the small window in the door there. The immediate area seemed deserted, so he cautiously opened the door.
His luck held. The elevator's doors next to him remained closed, and no desk faced the area. A sign posted on the wall indicated directions to operating suites, staff locker rooms, and waiting rooms. He followed the arrows to the locker rooms.
As he passed the women's locker room, the door opened abruptly. He swerved--not quickly enough-and crashed into the door. He heard a gasp, followed by an apologetic voice exclaiming, "Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there."
"It's okay," he said. He stepped back and pushed his cap back off his face.
His assailant was an older woman, dressed in a lab coat with scrubs underneath. She seemed vaguely familiar. "Are you sure?" she fussed, "I wish they'd put mirrors by these doors. You don't know how many people get hit with them." She closed the door, looked him over professionally. "Are you sure you're okay? These doors are pretty heavy."
"I'm . . . I'm fine," he stuttered. "I was just startled. I'm, uh, I'm . . . "
"Lost?" she inquired.
He nodded, then seized on an idea. "It's, uh, my first night." He glanced at the locker room door, noting the keypad on it. "I was . . . I was trying to remember the, uh, the code for the locker room." Murdock paused. "Uh, somebody was supposed to meet me, but I couldn't remember where, and I thought I'd just come up here and get ready."
"Probably Nick," she snorted. "He's so scatterbrained." She walked over to the men's door. "I don't know why they let him mentor. "Here," she interrupted herself, "it's easy to remember. Nine, seven, five, three, star." She punched the numbers as she spoke. The door buzzed, and she pulled it open. "Nick?" she called. "Nick?
There was no answer. The woman turned to Murdock and gestured him in. "Just go get ready," she said, "I'll go find him."
"Oh, don't bother," Murdock said, "I'm sure I'll find him, no problem. I don't want to get him in trouble."
The woman looked quizzically at him. "Okay," she said, "if you're sure."
"Positive," Murdock said. "I appreciated this, uh, . . . " He glanced for her name tag.
She held out her hand. "Janey Miller," she said, "Welcome aboard."
"Thanks," he said. He smiled at her and closed the door.
The locker room was deserted. He leaned against the door and sighed. Straightening, he glanced around the room. Lockers lined one wall, facing a set of shelves loaded with various pieces of scrub suits, sorted by size. He walked over to them, selected a shirt, pants, and jacket, and put them on. Nearby, there were several hampers lined with laundry bags. He took an empty bag from a hamper and stuffed his clothes inside. Lacking a comb, he used his fingers to rake his hair forward.
He headed toward the door, then stopped. The sign on the back of the door cautioned staff to "cover scrubs with a lab coat when leaving the OR area." A rack of lab coats stood next to the door, a blatant reminder. Murdock dropped the bag, searched for a coat in his size, and threw it on over the scrubs. He picked up the bag, smoothed his hair down one more time, and reached for the door knob.
He opened the door carefully, remembering his earlier encounter. This time the hallway was clear, and he headed back to the elevators. Again, the hallways appeared deserted, and he got into the elevator undetected. He pushed the button for the ICU floor and waited, bouncing nervously on his toes.
The doors opened. He stepped into the hallway, then paused. There was a janitor down the hall, mopping the floor. One agent stood at the entrance to the ICU. Remembering the nurse who had thrown them out earlier, Murdock grinned. He moved forward purposefully, bag slung over his shoulder.
The agent flung out an arm at him. "Hold it, buddy," he said, "Where're you going?"
"Aw, man," Murdock whined, "I just gotta take this bag in there, and I wanna say hi to my girlfriend." He looked pleading at the agent. " We ain't seen each other for a week, and we got three more days before we get off this shift." I should've grabbed one of those caps, he thought, mashing his hair back down on his forehead.
The agent looked at him warily. "You don't work up here," he said.
"Naw, man, I work down in OR," Murdock lied, "It's a real pain in the relationship, working the same place but different departments. You never get to see each other."
"All right," the agent gave in. He still seemed doubtful, and glanced through the doors toward the ICU's desk. Murdock guessed that the staff had given Stockwell a bit of hell about having his men in the ICU proper. Good for them. He gave the man a mock salute, and entered the unit.
There seemed to be more people milling around the desk than he remembered. He glanced at the clock and realized that it was shift change. He looked around, then moved unobtrusively toward Face's room. Snatches of conversation jostled for his attention as he passed the desk.
He thought he heard the name "Peck," and paused. The speaker had her back to him. She turned, and a shock of recognition raced through Murdock's brain. It was the nurse from yesterday. Not Jean, the other one. The one who had let him stay with Face, until the security guards came, and BA hauled him out of the ICU.
She looked at him, seeing only the scrubs at first, and scowled. "Can I help you?" she asked. Her gaze moved up to his face, then-like before-her eyes widened in recognition. She looked around quickly at the rest of the staff, then back to him. "What are you doing here?" she whispered fiercely.
"Shh," begged Murdock. "There's an agent out-"
"I know that," she said, "What is going on?"
"It's a long story," said Murdock. "Please, we just want to be with our friend."
"We?"
"Please?"
Another nurse came up to them, asking, "Renee, what do you know about the guy in four?" She noticed Murdock and added, "Oh, I didn't realize you were mentoring today."
Renee looked at Murdock-who was listening intently-then back at the other. "Um, yeah, I had him yesterday." She paused, looked at Murdock again, and said, "Listen, Kay, why don't I take four, and you take the lady in one?"
Kay shrugged. "Fine by me," she said, "Here's the chart."
Renee accepted the chart, and watched until the other had returned to the desk. She turned to Murdock. "You sit at the desk until I come for you," she said. She turned toward room four.
"Let me come with you," Murdock said.
She smiled. "No." He started to protest, and she held up a hand. "I know," she said, "You're the closest thing he has to family, etcetera, etcetera." She paused, then said empathically, "No. Sit at the desk. Read a chart or something." She stopped, realizing what she had said and amended, "No, don't read a chart." She walked back to the desk, glanced around, grabbed a manual from the shelf and handed it to him. "Pretend to read this," she said, "You're new staff, and I'm mentoring you, okay?" Murdock nodded. She sighed and went to room four.
Murdock walked to the desk, sat, and opened the policy manual she handed him. He kept his head down as if he were reading, but watched Face's room. The blinds were down, the door closed, and he wondered how Face was doing. He glanced around the unit, and noticed that half the occupied rooms had blinds down. He flicked a page over and looked around the desk.
Movement near room four caused him to look up, and he saw Renee leave room four. He stood, ready to leave the desk. She caught sight of him, and shook her head. He sat back down, and she went into another room. The blinds closed.
He looked at Face's room, and noted the blinds were still closed. Murdock was tempted to sneak into the room anyway, but he stayed where he was. She was helping him, whatever her reasons, and he didn't want to cause more trouble for her.
There was a flurry in one of the rooms, accompanied by staccato voices. Murdock slid down in his chair, hoping no one would request his assistance with whatever was happening. Minutes passed, and then Renee hurried to the desk. She picked up the phone and punched a few numbers. "This is Renee in ICU. Page Dr. Rogers, and notify OR we need a room, stat." She hung up and returned to the room.
It seemed as though the wheeled stretcher and its attendants appeared almost instantly, followed by a man in a doctor's coat. Murdock risked a quick look as the group went into room five. Not Face, he thought in relief, then added, God help whoever it is.
The minutes slowed. The stretcher reappeared--accompanied by the doctor- retraced its route, and disappeared. Murdock watched as staff members emerged from the room, Renee included. She bit her lip, and shook her head in response to a question, then excused herself and hurried over to Murdock.
"Okay, let's go," she said. Murdock rose and followed her into room four. She closed the door behind him and indicated the chair. He sat. She glanced at the monitors, did a quick assessment of Face, then stood in front of Murdock with arms crossed. "What is going on?" she demanded, "Yesterday it was the four of you, and today we got guys in dark suits all over the place."
"It's a long story," said Murdock.
"You said that already."
"I know." Murdock glanced at Face, and asked, "How is he?"
She hesitated. "Some guy named Stockwell . . . "
"Damn!" The thought verbalized itself, along with a flash of anger. Stay in control, he cautioned himself, It's not her fault. "Sorry." He hesitated, composing himself. "Okay, we work for the government. Stockwell is our . . . boss. He didn't like us here, doesn't like us anywhere, loose. This," he indicated Face, "was just a freak thing we stumbled into. It wasn't a job. Mob hitmen and the attorney general. It never would have happened if I hadn't bugged Face into taking out those guys."
"The news said the owner of the restaurant . . . "
"I know." Frustrated, Murdock ran his hand through his hand. "We're supposed to be a secret." Some secret. "Like I said, it wasn't even a job. I was working at the restaurant and I convinced Face and Frankie to come to there for dinner...Monday." Has it only been a day and a half? "It was just supposed to be a . . . a night off. And then . . . "
She put a hand on his shoulder. "Okay," she said softly, "It's not your fault."
Murdock dropped his head into his hands, breathing deeply. Then he raised it and asked, "So how is he?"
She withdrew her hand, looked over the monitors and Face once more, then said, "No change." She stepped back, drawing professionalism around her like a cloak, and added softly, "We gave him another unit of blood last night. His blood pressure's been dipping a bit." She glanced at the IV bag. "I've got to get another, and my other patient's moving today."
"Look," said Murdock, "The others, they're, uh, they're trying to get back here. Could you, . . . I know it's a lot to ask, but could you get them back up here?"
"I can't do anything about that," she said.
"Okay," Murdock amended, "would you let them back here if they get this far?"
"I won't promise."
"Good enough." She opened the door, and he added, "Thanks."
She smiled in acknowledgment, flipped the blinds open, and paused. "Who are you, anyway?" she asked. "I can't just call you 'hey you'."
"Oh, I'm sorry." He rose and extended a hand. "Murdock," he said, "HM Murdock."
She clasped his hand automatically and responded, "Renee Tainsch." She turned to leave, stopped and turned back to him "Talk to him," she said, "Hearing is the last sense to go." She walked out of the room.
Murdock watched her return to the desk, then turned back to Face.









to be continued