Chapter 28
** At the same time **
Startling her, Nina Welles heard the heart monitor tracking Agent Alberto Ruiz suddenly buzz to life. The alarm was a constant ring – a high- tech manufactured howl. Glancing over at the display, she read that the man's heart had 'flat-lined.' Ruiz's blood pressure dropped rapidly, and she knew – without question – that this was it. The agent was dying. Over the last few minutes, as she stayed at his bedside, his temperature had risen, cresting at 108 degrees. He dripped of sweat as his breathing grew more and more shallow. When he had begun fading out of speech with her, despite her best attempts to keep him awake and talking, she knew he was sliding out of her ability to help. But – now more than ever – she trusted that Ruiz was succumbing to the inevitable.
"I need some help in here!" she shouted. "Now!"
She grabbed the edge of the white cotton blanket and yanked it away from the man's unmoving chest. Tearing open his gown, she placed her hands on his body. She felt the heat, and she trusted that the fever was wrecking havoc with his immune system.
After all, there was no way the human body could fight this infection.
"I SAID I NEED SOME HELP IN HERE!"
Immediately, she placed her forefinger at the base of the man's sternum, visually measured up to the spot where her medical training assured her his heart was, and, ignoring her best medical instincts, she said a silent prayer. Then, clasping her hands together, she stuck the base of her palm to that spot and began pumping downward – one deliberate thrust after another after another – alternating her view between the monitor and Ruiz's still face.
Behind her, she heard the rustling of the plastic sheeting. "I'm here!" A medical technician immediately took a position at the head of the bed. From a cart, the technician retrieved an artificial breather. She placed it over the patient's mouth and asked, "Time?"
Stopping with her efforts, Nina ordered, "Go."
Nodding, the technician squeezed the bladder twice. Together, they watched Ruiz's chest rise only very slightly. Then, the assistant studied the doctor's expression. Once more, Nina began calculated thumping on Ruiz's chest, desperately trying to convince his heart to beat again. She didn't want to lose him – she never wanted to lose any victim – but she knew that the voice in the back of her mind wouldn't be silenced.
'You can't do a thing,' it told her.
'Yes, I can,' she told it, but it kept taunting and teasing and threatening her repeatedly.
'You can't do a thing,' it said. 'He's dying, and there isn't a thing you or any person of the face of this awful, God-forsaken planet can do about it.'
'I'm still going to try,' she thought.
'You're wasting your time.'
'Saving a life is never a waste of time.'
'You can't save him. He's dead already.'
It wouldn't go away, but, between the counts of her applying pressure and the technician's administering Cardio Pulmonary Resuscitation, she managed to soften the voice's influence on her.
"What's happening?"
Glancing over her shoulder, Nina saw Dr. Olga Vukavitch step into the containment area.
"Agent Ruiz is trying to take an early check-out."
"Oh, no," Olga muttered.
Nina shook her head, continuing to press down, down, down on the man's chest. She ignored the fact that Dr. Vukavitch didn't offer to help in any way, and she asked, "What about the vaccine ... or is that still considered a possession too prized for the common folk, doctor?"
Grimacing, Olga stood next to the physician. "It hasn't been tested."
"Do we really have a choice?"
"Dr. Welles," Olga tried, adopting her best diplomatic voice, "I understand completely what you're thinking, but this drug has not been authorized for use on Agent Ruiz by the NSA."
"Dr. Vukavitch," Nina tried, controlling her desire to lash out at her present counterpart, "I will ask you again: does it really matter?"
As the two continued to work on Ruiz, Olga stepped easily around to the monitor and switched off the alarm.
"The vaccine hasn't arrived yet from Washington," she explained.
"Washington?" Nina couldn't believe what she was hearing. People were dying in the field – at least, this man was – and the top brass were sitting on the only tool that might be able to prove otherwise, to defy the odds, to stop time and heal the sick ... but, instead, the drug was collecting dust on some colonel's desk. "What the hell is it doing in Washington?"
"The NSA has released Chronoticin in a very limited supply, Dr. Welles," Olga answered. "You know – as well as I know – that the NSA is very particular over authorizing its use for what the Committee deems 'non- essential personnel.'"
"Dr. Vukavitch, one of our own is dying, and you're telling me there's absolutely nothing that the NSA will do to save him?"
Olga lowered her head. "There is a shipment en route to us, doctor," she finally said. "But ... I do not believe that it will reach us in time to help Agent Ruiz." Quietly, her voice trembling, she added, "I'm sorry," and she left through the heavy curtain.
Nina ignored the impulse to chase after the woman. After all, the NSA didn't answer to Olga Vukavitch, and Nina had no doubt that Olga was just as concerned about the lack of available serum in Never Never Land.
... but damn the protocol!
'There's nothing you can do,' the voice told her.
"Keep trying," she told the technician, who squeezed off several more breaths into Ruiz's dormant body.
'There's nothing you can do,' the voice told her.
She increased the pressure she was applying to the man's ribs. After all, it the truest clinical sense of the word, Alberto Ruiz was dead. There was nothing that she could do that could make matters any worse at this point. With all her might, she arched her shoulders and pressed down, down, down into his chest.
'There's nothing you can do,' the voice dropped to a whisper. 'There's nothing you can ever do.'
End of Chapter 28
** At the same time **
Startling her, Nina Welles heard the heart monitor tracking Agent Alberto Ruiz suddenly buzz to life. The alarm was a constant ring – a high- tech manufactured howl. Glancing over at the display, she read that the man's heart had 'flat-lined.' Ruiz's blood pressure dropped rapidly, and she knew – without question – that this was it. The agent was dying. Over the last few minutes, as she stayed at his bedside, his temperature had risen, cresting at 108 degrees. He dripped of sweat as his breathing grew more and more shallow. When he had begun fading out of speech with her, despite her best attempts to keep him awake and talking, she knew he was sliding out of her ability to help. But – now more than ever – she trusted that Ruiz was succumbing to the inevitable.
"I need some help in here!" she shouted. "Now!"
She grabbed the edge of the white cotton blanket and yanked it away from the man's unmoving chest. Tearing open his gown, she placed her hands on his body. She felt the heat, and she trusted that the fever was wrecking havoc with his immune system.
After all, there was no way the human body could fight this infection.
"I SAID I NEED SOME HELP IN HERE!"
Immediately, she placed her forefinger at the base of the man's sternum, visually measured up to the spot where her medical training assured her his heart was, and, ignoring her best medical instincts, she said a silent prayer. Then, clasping her hands together, she stuck the base of her palm to that spot and began pumping downward – one deliberate thrust after another after another – alternating her view between the monitor and Ruiz's still face.
Behind her, she heard the rustling of the plastic sheeting. "I'm here!" A medical technician immediately took a position at the head of the bed. From a cart, the technician retrieved an artificial breather. She placed it over the patient's mouth and asked, "Time?"
Stopping with her efforts, Nina ordered, "Go."
Nodding, the technician squeezed the bladder twice. Together, they watched Ruiz's chest rise only very slightly. Then, the assistant studied the doctor's expression. Once more, Nina began calculated thumping on Ruiz's chest, desperately trying to convince his heart to beat again. She didn't want to lose him – she never wanted to lose any victim – but she knew that the voice in the back of her mind wouldn't be silenced.
'You can't do a thing,' it told her.
'Yes, I can,' she told it, but it kept taunting and teasing and threatening her repeatedly.
'You can't do a thing,' it said. 'He's dying, and there isn't a thing you or any person of the face of this awful, God-forsaken planet can do about it.'
'I'm still going to try,' she thought.
'You're wasting your time.'
'Saving a life is never a waste of time.'
'You can't save him. He's dead already.'
It wouldn't go away, but, between the counts of her applying pressure and the technician's administering Cardio Pulmonary Resuscitation, she managed to soften the voice's influence on her.
"What's happening?"
Glancing over her shoulder, Nina saw Dr. Olga Vukavitch step into the containment area.
"Agent Ruiz is trying to take an early check-out."
"Oh, no," Olga muttered.
Nina shook her head, continuing to press down, down, down on the man's chest. She ignored the fact that Dr. Vukavitch didn't offer to help in any way, and she asked, "What about the vaccine ... or is that still considered a possession too prized for the common folk, doctor?"
Grimacing, Olga stood next to the physician. "It hasn't been tested."
"Do we really have a choice?"
"Dr. Welles," Olga tried, adopting her best diplomatic voice, "I understand completely what you're thinking, but this drug has not been authorized for use on Agent Ruiz by the NSA."
"Dr. Vukavitch," Nina tried, controlling her desire to lash out at her present counterpart, "I will ask you again: does it really matter?"
As the two continued to work on Ruiz, Olga stepped easily around to the monitor and switched off the alarm.
"The vaccine hasn't arrived yet from Washington," she explained.
"Washington?" Nina couldn't believe what she was hearing. People were dying in the field – at least, this man was – and the top brass were sitting on the only tool that might be able to prove otherwise, to defy the odds, to stop time and heal the sick ... but, instead, the drug was collecting dust on some colonel's desk. "What the hell is it doing in Washington?"
"The NSA has released Chronoticin in a very limited supply, Dr. Welles," Olga answered. "You know – as well as I know – that the NSA is very particular over authorizing its use for what the Committee deems 'non- essential personnel.'"
"Dr. Vukavitch, one of our own is dying, and you're telling me there's absolutely nothing that the NSA will do to save him?"
Olga lowered her head. "There is a shipment en route to us, doctor," she finally said. "But ... I do not believe that it will reach us in time to help Agent Ruiz." Quietly, her voice trembling, she added, "I'm sorry," and she left through the heavy curtain.
Nina ignored the impulse to chase after the woman. After all, the NSA didn't answer to Olga Vukavitch, and Nina had no doubt that Olga was just as concerned about the lack of available serum in Never Never Land.
... but damn the protocol!
'There's nothing you can do,' the voice told her.
"Keep trying," she told the technician, who squeezed off several more breaths into Ruiz's dormant body.
'There's nothing you can do,' the voice told her.
She increased the pressure she was applying to the man's ribs. After all, it the truest clinical sense of the word, Alberto Ruiz was dead. There was nothing that she could do that could make matters any worse at this point. With all her might, she arched her shoulders and pressed down, down, down into his chest.
'There's nothing you can do,' the voice dropped to a whisper. 'There's nothing you can ever do.'
End of Chapter 28