Part 8 Anger
Jesse waited a moment as he forced air back into his lungs, his heart was hammering in his chest and every instinct told him to run but he couldn't. He looked to either side of him as he felt the men there grabbing his arms effectively pinning him to the wall, then he looked up into the eyes of the man who stood in front of him and swallowed. "What.,." he tried to keep his voice steady but it refused to cooperate, he licked his lips trying to restore the moisture but his mouth was dry. "What do you want to talk about."
"Your story and the people around here who have died," the porter said, his tone harsh.
For a moment Jesse's own guilt blocked reason and he almost found himself telling the men who held him that it was all his fault. Then self preservation kicked in, he glanced nervously at each of them, trying to push back the terror that was threatening to engulf him, he was helpless, probably wouldn't have been able to handle any one of them in a fair fight, against three of them he had no chance. He was fairly sure that they weren't part of what was going on but they had clearly connected him with what was happening and blamed him for it. Why not, he blamed himself? He looked at the men again and something told him that if he didn't do something, didn't say something then they were going to hurt him. He decided that his best bet was to feign innocence, if he could convince them that he hadn't written the story, that it had been someone else, maybe he could get out of this. His guilt spoke to him 'but you did write it, you are responsible, you deserve whatever they do.' It took all his effort to repress the thought.
"St. . Story, what story I don't know what you're talking about," he forced an expression of bewilderment.
The tactic was a mistake, he saw the flash of anger in the porter's eyes moments before his forearm slammed into his throat under his chin, lifting his feet of the ground, knocking his head back into the wall "Don't pretend you don't know what I mean," he said icily, easing the pressure slightly as Jesse's face went bright red, he didn't want the doctor to pass out, not until he had delivered his message. He waited for Jesse to take a breath, keeping his arm pressed against his throat. "Paul Peterson was my best friend, we worked here together for four years and you got him killed."
The violent movement and jarring as his head hit the wall caused a spike of pain that settled to a dull throbbing as the pressure was eased and Jesse could finally take a breath. He gasped as his grayed vision began to clear, waiting for his eyes to refocus. Finally, he looked into the porter's eyes, a part of his mind agreeing with the anger that he saw there, but the rational part of his mind didn't agree, began using the arguments that his friends had been trying to help him see. It wasn't him, he wasn't doing this, he wasn't the one that was killing people, surely they could see that. "I didn't."
The arm shoved back a little harder cutting ofF his speech. "Don't even think of denying it. We've read it, we know all of this is happening because of you." He nodded to his left "Collins here was dating Ellen Steven's."
Jesse glanced at the man who pinned his right arm to the wall and the look of hatred he saw, made him move his eyes rapidly away. He swallowed, the arm had moved enough to allow normal breathing. "What. what do you want?"
"What do we want?" He glanced in turn at each of his companions, before turning back to Jesse his expression twisting to vicious intent. "What we want is for you to leave, get out of here before anyone else gets hurt." He paused for a moment. "That's after we've taught you a lesson." Another shove as the arm resumed its pressure against Jesse's throat pushing upwards relentlessly, forcing his feet from the floor.
Jesse felt the tightness in his chest return, gray spots reappeared and danced in front of his eyes. He was vaguely aware of the grip tightening painfully on both of his arms as he tried to struggle against his attackers, fighting desperately to release the air locked painfully in his lungs. Blackness began to encroach from the sides of his vision, and then suddenly the pressure was gone, his arms dropped to his sides and it was all he could do to lean back against the wall, sliding slightly down it to prevent himself collapsing completely, as he desperately drew air into his lungs.
Steve rounded the corner and was shocked by the sight of Jesse pinned to the wall by three men all dressed in hospital uniforms. It took him only a moment to assess that they were hurting his friend. He pulled his gun into a two handed grip and yelled. "Police Freeze."
The three men looked round. "Let him go and step away from him with your hands in the air," Steve commanded, "now!" The last word was barked with menace as Steve moved position, he needed to get these people away from his friend. He flicked the end of his gun to indicate direction as the three stepped away from Jesse. "Against the wall over there, and don't try anything. There are three of you so I'd be perfectly justified in firing." He risked a glance at Jesse who was still leaning against the wall breathing heavily, his eyes closed.
"Jess," he called, "Are you all right?" There was no response and Steve uttered a silent curse. He pulled out his cell and called for backup. Unwilling to wait for them to arrive, he wanted to check properly on Jesse, he picked on the male nurse who looked the most nervous of the three. He gave him a pair of cuffs and instructed him to cuff the porter, then he gave him a plastic restraint for the orderly, finally with the other two secure and facing the wall he risked putting his gun away and put a restraint on the nurse.
"Hey cop, what are you cuffing us for, we ain't done nothing," the porter yelled across.
Steve moved so that he was standing directly behind him, he already had this guy picked out for the leader of the group. He placed his mouth close to the man's ear, his gun touching his ribs and checked that the cuffs were secure as he spoke. "Well from what I could see when I came round the corner you were assaulting a friend of mine," Steve's voice dripped with barely contained anger. "Now you have the right to remain silent. I suggest you use it until my colleagues get here and read you the rest of your rights." There was a cold control there that somehow made Steve's advice more intimidating than any shouting could have been. The porter swallowed, for the first time nervous himself.
Satisfied, Steve walked backwards until he was standing next to Jesse not taking his eyes off the three hospital workers until he was level with his friend. "Jess?" he questioned. Relief flooded his system as Jesse turned to look at him, making a brief eye contact.
"I'm OK," Jesse said, his voice rasping slightly. He leant back and closed his eyes.
Steve wasn't convinced, he turned to study his friend as closely as he could and watched as he continued to draw air into his lungs in slightly too rapid gulps. He tried to assess if there were any other injuries but it was difficult, he had to keep at least part of his attention on the three men, even cuffed, if they decided to attack or make a run for it, Steve knew he would have difficulty handling them on his own, he needed to remain alert at least until his backup arrived.
Less than two minutes passed before three more officers arrived from the contingent already on duty at the hospital. Steve left Jesse's side long enough to tell one of them that he wanted the three of them booked for assault and that he would come to the station later to fill in the paperwork. Then he returned to his friend.
Jesse was still leaning against the wall but his eyes were open and he was absently rubbing his throat, trying to make sense of what had just happened to him.
"Jess," Steve said, finally able to focus on his friend.
Jesse looked up, his head throbbed, his neck hurt and his thoughts were confused, but the familiar voice was enough to draw his attention.
"You OK to make it inside?" He asked
Jesse nodded and pushed himself unsteadily off the wall but refused the supportive hand that Steve held out. "I'm fine," he said, glancing only briefly at the three men who were now being led away before heading in the opposite direction, it was a slightly longer route but it would get him back into the hospital without having to walk past his attackers. It wasn't that he was afraid of them, he had no reason to be with the police there, but he didn't want to see the look of accusation in their eyes.
Steve sighed and followed, cursing himself. How could he have let this happen? He was supposed to be looking out for his friend, protecting him. How could he be letting any of this happen? Jesse was going through so much, and up to now Steve felt he had been next to useless at helping him with any of it and now he'd allowed him to be attacked, again, hurt again. He cursed softly and used his longer stride to catch Jesse up, falling into pace, as both men walked in silence, lost in their own emotional cloud.
--
Steve stood outside the door to the exam room, leaning against the wall, waiting for his father to finish. He rubbed his eyes and took a gulp of the drink in his hand, regretting getting it from the machine down the hall, since it bore only a passing resemblance to the strong coffee that it purported to be, still he needed the caffeine to keep him awake. He was getting too old to survive on three hours sleep in an uncomfortable chair. He caught the thought and idly wondered what Jesse would make of it if he ever admitted something like that out loud. He allowed a slight smirk as he imagined the fun Jesse could have at his expense, before he sobered. Jesse wasn't going to have any fun until this maniac was caught.
His thoughts were interrupted as Mark came out of the room.
"How's he doing?" Steve asked pushing himself upright.
The concern showed clearly in Mark's blue eyes. "No permanent damage, just some bruising, but I'm worried about his head getting knocked again after yesterday so I'm going to readmit him."
Steve nodded, "The Captain's sending Detective Turner out to interview him." He rubbed at his eye although he wasn't sure if it was through tiredness or frustration. "At this stage we need a formal statement, Jesse's too involved in what's going on to leave it casual. They managed to confirm that it was his cell that detonated the bomb." He let his hand drop down. "I managed to persuade the Captain to let us do it here, rather than taking him in." He looked into his father's eyes. "Do you think he's up to it?"
"Physically, yes," Mark stated, subconsciously looking at the door, as though he could see through it even though the blinds were drawn. He shook his head. "I don't know, he's always been resilient, self reliant, I guess with his upbringing, he had to be, but with all that's happening. . . ." As the sentence trailed off, he turned back to look at his son. "Go in and see if you can talk to him, I'll sort his room out."
Steve nodded and made a move towards the door.
Mark reached out and took the half full plastic cup from his hand, "I'll dispose of that for you."
Steve looked at him. "What makes you think I don't want to finish it?"
Mark allowed a slight smile. "It's from the machine down the hall." He paused for a moment, "Even your taste buds can't stomach that."
Steve met his father's eyes, sometimes he was sure his father could read his mind, he had just been considering how to dispose of the offending liquid, "Thanks, I think," he said, pushing the door open.
--
Steve had a moment to study his friend before Jesse looked up, what he saw was unsettling. Jesse looked vulnerable in a way he'd only seen once before and hoped he'd never see again. His friend always looked youthful, always innocent, despite the pain and loss he saw and dealt with everyday, but he had an inner fire, a passion that always made him seem strong despite that look of innocence. What had his father just called it, resilience, that was it, but as he looked at him now he was hard pressed to see it.
Jesse was sitting up on the exam table his legs dangling over the side, he looked up at him with eyes that had lost their sparkle. "Steve," he said in greeting, his voice flat.
Steve moved over to the bed. "Jess," he began slightly awkwardly. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry I shouldn't have. . ."
Jesse held up his hand, "Hey, it's OK"
Steve paused for a moment, it wasn't OK, it had been his responsibility to protect his friend and he had failed. He wanted to continue that apology but couldn't find the words to express his own sense of failure, so he let it drop.
Jesse looked him in the eye. "Captain Newman wants you to bring me in for questioning doesn't he?"
Steve realised that he shouldn't be surprised by the question, Jesse was far from stupid and he had overheard the beginning of his conversation. He nodded, " He's sending Detective Turner, Nathan, out to get a statement."
Jesse would have smiled under other circumstances, it was good to have a friend like Steve, someone to watch out for him. Steve had clearly managed to persuade his superior to allow the statement to be taken at the hospital. "Thanks," he said gratefully.
"So," Steve said trying to keep his tone casual, "Do you want to tell me what happened out there? We'll need a statement about that too."
Jesse's expression darkened, he looked at the floor. "It was nothing," he stated. There was a slight pause, "I. . .I don't want them charged."
"What?" Steve asked incredulously, "Jess, they attacked you."
Jesse looked up, "They're just scared Steve, and they're not the only ones."
"Jesse whatever they said to you, if you're scared of them. . ."
Jesse realised instantly that Steve was misinterpreting what he was saying. "No, it's not that. Two of them have lost someone they're close too so it's understandable that they're looking for someone to blame. I was just in the firing line."
Steve studied his friend, he could still see the redness on Jesse's neck. "But they hurt. . ." he began to protest.
"Steve," Jesse interrupted, "can you honestly tell me that when someone has hurt, or threatened to hurt, someone you're close to you haven't behaved in the same way." He paused, holding Steve's gaze waiting for the logic to break through his anger. "I got their friends killed."
Steve reacted to that, "Jess. . ." He didn't need to say any more for Jesse to get his meaning.
"OK," he acquiesced, "they think I got their friends killed." He really didn't want to get into another discussion of how much responsibility he bore for all of this. "They were just reacting to that. You would too."
Steve stared at him. How could he be so forgiving? These men had hurt him, who knows how far they would have gone if he hadn't arrived when he did.
He considered Jesse's argument, his defense of these three. Was Jess right? Would he have reacted in the same way? No, he would never. . . He caught himself in the lie, but he had. He had attacked and threatened people when he had thought they were hurting the ones he loved, had lost his temper, particularly when his father had been threatened, had gone up to and beyond the point of risking his career to protect those he loved. Was he any different from these three? The answer to that was yes, he would never attack three on one, would never deliberately seek pure revenge, he might threaten it but he knew where the line was drawn. He wasn't sure he could say the same for the three man who had attacked Jesse. In fact he was fairly sure that his friend would have been badly hurt if he hadn't been there, and it riled him to think of them getting away with it. He tried to come up with something that would counter Jesse's argument.
Jesse was still staring intently back at him. "Look Steve it's going to be bad enough with the rumours and accusations flying around here as it is. I'd rather just forget the whole thing ever happened."
Jesse's voice still rasped slightly, he sounded so tired and lifeless, so unlike himself that Steve knew the discussion was over, he wouldn't make this any more difficult for his friend. "All right, I'll go down to the station and make sure that they are questioned, then they'll be released without charge." He paused for a moment," but not yet, it won't do them any harm to sweat it out for a while."
Jesse gave a slight smile of gratitude. "Thanks," he said, his shoulders sagging further. He had used his last reserves of energy getting his point across to Steve. Suddenly the world seemed to shift, everything in his vision first tilting and then spinning. He wasn't sure which way was up but he had the sensation of falling, his muscles tensed. Why was he so cold? And why, if he was cold, was their sweat on the surface of his skin?
Steve read the signs just in time, catching his friend as he pitched forward and helping him to lean back onto the exam table. He looked at him and was relieved to see that his eyes were still open, a little dazed but still alert. "Hey," he said as Jesse seemed to refocus, "no need for the dramatic touches, you already won the argument."
Jesse took a deep breath, willing the room behind Steve to keep still. "Got to make sure," he paused to take another breath, "That you don't change your mind."
--
Steve met Detective Nathan Turner in the hospital canteen at around noon, once his dad had checked Jesse out again and had him settled in a room and on an IV to replace lost fluids and bring his blood sugar level back up, he had allowed the detective in to interview him. Mark had stayed leaving Steve free to check through the hospital personnel files both for potential victims and for potential suspects. It was beginning to look more and more like it was one of the hospital staff that was carrying out the attacks. With the increased security and most of the staff on alert for anything suspicious it was unlikely that a visitor to the hospital could pass around enough to not draw attention to themselves. Besides if Steve was right, then whoever this was had been watching Jesse, possibly them all for some time, making a staff member much more likely. Visitors and even patients would draw too much attention to themselves wondering the halls, whereas there was a myriad of different jobs that an employee could pretend to be doing, that would justify them being on the hospital corridors at any given time.
So Steve had spent his time looking at doctors, nurses, porters, cleaners, maintenance and security employees, trying to eliminate as many as he could to leave himself with a manageable list of possible suspects. With no real idea of motive, except for the fact that they had a grudge against Jesse, he decided to concentrate on the people who had joined the hospital in the last year, working on the assumption that someone with a grudge had taken a job at the hospital so that they could get close to him. Of course there was always the chance that Jesse had upset someone who already worked there but it seemed less likely, and he had to start somewhere.
That still left an impossibly long list, the turnover of doctors wasn't that high but as a teaching hospital there were all of the medical students, and there seem to have been plenty of changes in other areas. Once he included the agency staff who were brought in to cover staff absences and positions that were difficult to fill any other way, he really had his work cut out to just do the background checks that might yield some important information. He was glad that there were so many people working on this, checking on his own would have taken days.
He placed the pile of information that he had gathered on the table and sat down opposite Nathan, who stopped pushing the food on his plate around and looked up. "I don't know how people, eat this stuff, I can't even identify it."
Steve resisted the urge to point out that it was the meatloaf and that he happened to think it was quite good, knowing the reaction he would get, he already had enough comments made at his expense because of his liking of hospital food. So he just nodded his agreement as Nathan pushed his plate to one side.
"OK there are about eighty names on the list," Steve said tapping the top of the folder, "Hopefully we'll be able to eliminate a few fairly quickly, a number of the students come from out of state and can't possibly have any connection with Jesse."
The two detectives had discussed their strategy as soon as Nathan had arrived at the hospital. Despite the fact that he was nominally lead investigator on the case, Nathan had deferred to Steve's higher rank and greater experience, giving his own ideas but allowing Steve to call the strategy. Steve respected the young detective for that, there were others who were so career minded that they would have taken advantage of the situation, but Nathan's only agenda was to help stop the killer. It was probably why Newman had given him the job.
"Unless the trigger for this happened a long time in his past," Nathan suggested.
Steve sighed, it was another possibility that couldn't be entirely dismissed, but with a lack of clues in the physical evidence and no one with a motive standing out, their only choice was to check out those with opportunity, one at a time, hoping they made the right guesses when prioritising who to check first. "Well we may end up checking them all out more thoroughly. I'll run the list past Jesse too, see if it triggers any memories."
Nathan nodded, he had been quite shocked by the young doctor's appearance and if he had needed any convincing that Jesse was the victim here, that in itself would have been enough. "He's resting at the moment, I think your dad gave him something to knock him out for a while."
"In that case I'll go straight to the station and get some people working on these names. I've still got to interview those three that attacked him before I release them. What about you?"
Nathan pulled some sheets from his own pile of papers. "I've been looking at the next few attacks, I thought I'd concentrate on looking for likely targets and positions in the hospital where they could happen so that we've got them covered. It's a shame whoever is doing this isn't keeping to the order Jesse wrote, that would reduce the possibilities."
Steve nodded his agreement, "And they won't necessarily stick to the details about the victims either," Steve stated with a slight bitterness to his tone. If only they had warned all of the nurses. . . . He shook the thought off, it wouldn't help.
"I've come up with a plan that should mean we have most of the areas covered, either with hospital security or our own men. The only one that really worries me is Dr. Romano, he's injured by a small incendiary device, whoever this is could already have planted that. As they proved with the diner, they don't need to be anywhere near it when it goes off. I've got a couple of people from the bomb squad to come and check around but in a building this size it's not likely they'll find anything, assuming there's anything to find."
Realising that Nathan had finished detailing his progress Steve, began his own report. "Well, I contacted the computing section, they're going to call us the instant a chapter is posted. the last time it was ten minutes before the body was found, so it's possible that the killer will post the chapter just before they do anything, that might give us enough warning to at least do something to stop them."
"We can only hope, the way this killer is going we're not going to catch them unless they make a mistake." Nathan took out his notes. "Do you want to check over my plans?"
Steve shook his head, he knew Nathan was more than capable of covering all of the bases, besides, he wanted to get to the station and back before anything else happened. "No you're in charge," he said, standing, "I'm sure you've covered everything." He picked up his papers, "I'll be back as soon as I can." As he turned to leave he caught sight of Nathan's discarded plate and his stomach growled, reminding him that he'd skipped breakfast and had only had several cups of strong coffee to keep him going, he sighed inwardly, he just didn't have the time to stop right now, he'd have to catch something later.
--
It was three o'clock by the time Steve made it back to the hospital and it took him fifteen minutes to find a space in the crowded lot, he was only one level from the top and he lamented the fact that he could not park in his usual place, there was always space there. He picked up his files and stretched still aching muscles, trying to ignore the hunger pangs that added to his discomfort. He'd grab a sandwich as soon as he'd updated his dad and checked in on Jesse.
A sudden noise behind him made him jump, he turned sharply to see what it was as a young woman belatedly flipped the switch to turn off her alarm. He took a deep breath and for what seemed like the hundredth time that day muttered a soft curse to himself. It had taken him far too long to react and he needed to be more careful, particularly in this part of the hospital. He rubbed his hand across his face and checked round before heading more cautiously towards the nearest stairwell.
He checked his dad's office first but it was empty so he went straight on to Jesse's room, figuring his father would be there, and if not then Jesse or the nurses would know where he was.
Jesse was sitting up when he walked in and looked considerably better than he had the last time Steve had seen him, his colour was back and the dark circles under his eyes were not so pronounced. "Hey Steve," he said, pleased to see his friend back. In fact he would have been pleased to see anyone, he didn't want to be left alone with his thoughts at the moment. "You've just missed your dad he was paged to go down to the OR, left a couple of minutes ago."
Steve nodded his acknowledgement of the information and took a seat. "How are you doing?" He asked, trying to make the enquiry sound casual.
Jesse looked down at the blanket, physically he felt a thousand times better, between the forced rest and the IV, his body had recovered a lot of his strength, but he knew that wasn't all Steve was asking about. He looked back up, "better," he replied. "You come up with anything yet?"
Steve sighed, "No but I've got some stuff here for you to look through if you feel up to it."
Jesse was about to reply when Steve's cell phone rang. He took it out and his pulse kicked into overdrive as he recognised the number of the computing section. "Sloan," he answered as he hit the connect.
"Dr. Romano in the OR sluice room," was all the voice at the other end said, it was all of the information he'd asked for. The name of the doctor gave him the method of attack, so one of the doctors was going to be hit by a small explosion in the OR.
Even as the thoughts connected, Steve was on his feet, "Romano in the OR," he repeated the information for Jesse as he headed for the door at a dead run.
It took Jesse only slightly longer to make the connection himself. He ripped the IV out of the back of his hand and ran after his friend, the adrenaline rush of fear allowing him to ignore any residual shakiness.
Steve tried to hit the correct sequence of buttons to connect the speed dial to Mark's cell but at the speed he was running he had difficulty. Finally he managed it but the line was engaged. He cursed and almost threw his phone away in disgust.
Mark looked at his phone, it kept ringing but when he answered it there was no one there. He resolved to turn it off and deal with it when he had checked on whatever crisis it was that needed his attention in the OR. The panicked cry behind him made him turn just as he reached the main outer door that led first to the sluice rooms and then to OR3. He barely had time to acknowledge it was Steve, who had called out, barely time to register the words, "Dad, No," as his hand pushed on the door . Then Steve collided with him at a run, pushing him away from the double door just as it exploded outwards. .
Jesse waited a moment as he forced air back into his lungs, his heart was hammering in his chest and every instinct told him to run but he couldn't. He looked to either side of him as he felt the men there grabbing his arms effectively pinning him to the wall, then he looked up into the eyes of the man who stood in front of him and swallowed. "What.,." he tried to keep his voice steady but it refused to cooperate, he licked his lips trying to restore the moisture but his mouth was dry. "What do you want to talk about."
"Your story and the people around here who have died," the porter said, his tone harsh.
For a moment Jesse's own guilt blocked reason and he almost found himself telling the men who held him that it was all his fault. Then self preservation kicked in, he glanced nervously at each of them, trying to push back the terror that was threatening to engulf him, he was helpless, probably wouldn't have been able to handle any one of them in a fair fight, against three of them he had no chance. He was fairly sure that they weren't part of what was going on but they had clearly connected him with what was happening and blamed him for it. Why not, he blamed himself? He looked at the men again and something told him that if he didn't do something, didn't say something then they were going to hurt him. He decided that his best bet was to feign innocence, if he could convince them that he hadn't written the story, that it had been someone else, maybe he could get out of this. His guilt spoke to him 'but you did write it, you are responsible, you deserve whatever they do.' It took all his effort to repress the thought.
"St. . Story, what story I don't know what you're talking about," he forced an expression of bewilderment.
The tactic was a mistake, he saw the flash of anger in the porter's eyes moments before his forearm slammed into his throat under his chin, lifting his feet of the ground, knocking his head back into the wall "Don't pretend you don't know what I mean," he said icily, easing the pressure slightly as Jesse's face went bright red, he didn't want the doctor to pass out, not until he had delivered his message. He waited for Jesse to take a breath, keeping his arm pressed against his throat. "Paul Peterson was my best friend, we worked here together for four years and you got him killed."
The violent movement and jarring as his head hit the wall caused a spike of pain that settled to a dull throbbing as the pressure was eased and Jesse could finally take a breath. He gasped as his grayed vision began to clear, waiting for his eyes to refocus. Finally, he looked into the porter's eyes, a part of his mind agreeing with the anger that he saw there, but the rational part of his mind didn't agree, began using the arguments that his friends had been trying to help him see. It wasn't him, he wasn't doing this, he wasn't the one that was killing people, surely they could see that. "I didn't."
The arm shoved back a little harder cutting ofF his speech. "Don't even think of denying it. We've read it, we know all of this is happening because of you." He nodded to his left "Collins here was dating Ellen Steven's."
Jesse glanced at the man who pinned his right arm to the wall and the look of hatred he saw, made him move his eyes rapidly away. He swallowed, the arm had moved enough to allow normal breathing. "What. what do you want?"
"What do we want?" He glanced in turn at each of his companions, before turning back to Jesse his expression twisting to vicious intent. "What we want is for you to leave, get out of here before anyone else gets hurt." He paused for a moment. "That's after we've taught you a lesson." Another shove as the arm resumed its pressure against Jesse's throat pushing upwards relentlessly, forcing his feet from the floor.
Jesse felt the tightness in his chest return, gray spots reappeared and danced in front of his eyes. He was vaguely aware of the grip tightening painfully on both of his arms as he tried to struggle against his attackers, fighting desperately to release the air locked painfully in his lungs. Blackness began to encroach from the sides of his vision, and then suddenly the pressure was gone, his arms dropped to his sides and it was all he could do to lean back against the wall, sliding slightly down it to prevent himself collapsing completely, as he desperately drew air into his lungs.
Steve rounded the corner and was shocked by the sight of Jesse pinned to the wall by three men all dressed in hospital uniforms. It took him only a moment to assess that they were hurting his friend. He pulled his gun into a two handed grip and yelled. "Police Freeze."
The three men looked round. "Let him go and step away from him with your hands in the air," Steve commanded, "now!" The last word was barked with menace as Steve moved position, he needed to get these people away from his friend. He flicked the end of his gun to indicate direction as the three stepped away from Jesse. "Against the wall over there, and don't try anything. There are three of you so I'd be perfectly justified in firing." He risked a glance at Jesse who was still leaning against the wall breathing heavily, his eyes closed.
"Jess," he called, "Are you all right?" There was no response and Steve uttered a silent curse. He pulled out his cell and called for backup. Unwilling to wait for them to arrive, he wanted to check properly on Jesse, he picked on the male nurse who looked the most nervous of the three. He gave him a pair of cuffs and instructed him to cuff the porter, then he gave him a plastic restraint for the orderly, finally with the other two secure and facing the wall he risked putting his gun away and put a restraint on the nurse.
"Hey cop, what are you cuffing us for, we ain't done nothing," the porter yelled across.
Steve moved so that he was standing directly behind him, he already had this guy picked out for the leader of the group. He placed his mouth close to the man's ear, his gun touching his ribs and checked that the cuffs were secure as he spoke. "Well from what I could see when I came round the corner you were assaulting a friend of mine," Steve's voice dripped with barely contained anger. "Now you have the right to remain silent. I suggest you use it until my colleagues get here and read you the rest of your rights." There was a cold control there that somehow made Steve's advice more intimidating than any shouting could have been. The porter swallowed, for the first time nervous himself.
Satisfied, Steve walked backwards until he was standing next to Jesse not taking his eyes off the three hospital workers until he was level with his friend. "Jess?" he questioned. Relief flooded his system as Jesse turned to look at him, making a brief eye contact.
"I'm OK," Jesse said, his voice rasping slightly. He leant back and closed his eyes.
Steve wasn't convinced, he turned to study his friend as closely as he could and watched as he continued to draw air into his lungs in slightly too rapid gulps. He tried to assess if there were any other injuries but it was difficult, he had to keep at least part of his attention on the three men, even cuffed, if they decided to attack or make a run for it, Steve knew he would have difficulty handling them on his own, he needed to remain alert at least until his backup arrived.
Less than two minutes passed before three more officers arrived from the contingent already on duty at the hospital. Steve left Jesse's side long enough to tell one of them that he wanted the three of them booked for assault and that he would come to the station later to fill in the paperwork. Then he returned to his friend.
Jesse was still leaning against the wall but his eyes were open and he was absently rubbing his throat, trying to make sense of what had just happened to him.
"Jess," Steve said, finally able to focus on his friend.
Jesse looked up, his head throbbed, his neck hurt and his thoughts were confused, but the familiar voice was enough to draw his attention.
"You OK to make it inside?" He asked
Jesse nodded and pushed himself unsteadily off the wall but refused the supportive hand that Steve held out. "I'm fine," he said, glancing only briefly at the three men who were now being led away before heading in the opposite direction, it was a slightly longer route but it would get him back into the hospital without having to walk past his attackers. It wasn't that he was afraid of them, he had no reason to be with the police there, but he didn't want to see the look of accusation in their eyes.
Steve sighed and followed, cursing himself. How could he have let this happen? He was supposed to be looking out for his friend, protecting him. How could he be letting any of this happen? Jesse was going through so much, and up to now Steve felt he had been next to useless at helping him with any of it and now he'd allowed him to be attacked, again, hurt again. He cursed softly and used his longer stride to catch Jesse up, falling into pace, as both men walked in silence, lost in their own emotional cloud.
--
Steve stood outside the door to the exam room, leaning against the wall, waiting for his father to finish. He rubbed his eyes and took a gulp of the drink in his hand, regretting getting it from the machine down the hall, since it bore only a passing resemblance to the strong coffee that it purported to be, still he needed the caffeine to keep him awake. He was getting too old to survive on three hours sleep in an uncomfortable chair. He caught the thought and idly wondered what Jesse would make of it if he ever admitted something like that out loud. He allowed a slight smirk as he imagined the fun Jesse could have at his expense, before he sobered. Jesse wasn't going to have any fun until this maniac was caught.
His thoughts were interrupted as Mark came out of the room.
"How's he doing?" Steve asked pushing himself upright.
The concern showed clearly in Mark's blue eyes. "No permanent damage, just some bruising, but I'm worried about his head getting knocked again after yesterday so I'm going to readmit him."
Steve nodded, "The Captain's sending Detective Turner out to interview him." He rubbed at his eye although he wasn't sure if it was through tiredness or frustration. "At this stage we need a formal statement, Jesse's too involved in what's going on to leave it casual. They managed to confirm that it was his cell that detonated the bomb." He let his hand drop down. "I managed to persuade the Captain to let us do it here, rather than taking him in." He looked into his father's eyes. "Do you think he's up to it?"
"Physically, yes," Mark stated, subconsciously looking at the door, as though he could see through it even though the blinds were drawn. He shook his head. "I don't know, he's always been resilient, self reliant, I guess with his upbringing, he had to be, but with all that's happening. . . ." As the sentence trailed off, he turned back to look at his son. "Go in and see if you can talk to him, I'll sort his room out."
Steve nodded and made a move towards the door.
Mark reached out and took the half full plastic cup from his hand, "I'll dispose of that for you."
Steve looked at him. "What makes you think I don't want to finish it?"
Mark allowed a slight smile. "It's from the machine down the hall." He paused for a moment, "Even your taste buds can't stomach that."
Steve met his father's eyes, sometimes he was sure his father could read his mind, he had just been considering how to dispose of the offending liquid, "Thanks, I think," he said, pushing the door open.
--
Steve had a moment to study his friend before Jesse looked up, what he saw was unsettling. Jesse looked vulnerable in a way he'd only seen once before and hoped he'd never see again. His friend always looked youthful, always innocent, despite the pain and loss he saw and dealt with everyday, but he had an inner fire, a passion that always made him seem strong despite that look of innocence. What had his father just called it, resilience, that was it, but as he looked at him now he was hard pressed to see it.
Jesse was sitting up on the exam table his legs dangling over the side, he looked up at him with eyes that had lost their sparkle. "Steve," he said in greeting, his voice flat.
Steve moved over to the bed. "Jess," he began slightly awkwardly. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry I shouldn't have. . ."
Jesse held up his hand, "Hey, it's OK"
Steve paused for a moment, it wasn't OK, it had been his responsibility to protect his friend and he had failed. He wanted to continue that apology but couldn't find the words to express his own sense of failure, so he let it drop.
Jesse looked him in the eye. "Captain Newman wants you to bring me in for questioning doesn't he?"
Steve realised that he shouldn't be surprised by the question, Jesse was far from stupid and he had overheard the beginning of his conversation. He nodded, " He's sending Detective Turner, Nathan, out to get a statement."
Jesse would have smiled under other circumstances, it was good to have a friend like Steve, someone to watch out for him. Steve had clearly managed to persuade his superior to allow the statement to be taken at the hospital. "Thanks," he said gratefully.
"So," Steve said trying to keep his tone casual, "Do you want to tell me what happened out there? We'll need a statement about that too."
Jesse's expression darkened, he looked at the floor. "It was nothing," he stated. There was a slight pause, "I. . .I don't want them charged."
"What?" Steve asked incredulously, "Jess, they attacked you."
Jesse looked up, "They're just scared Steve, and they're not the only ones."
"Jesse whatever they said to you, if you're scared of them. . ."
Jesse realised instantly that Steve was misinterpreting what he was saying. "No, it's not that. Two of them have lost someone they're close too so it's understandable that they're looking for someone to blame. I was just in the firing line."
Steve studied his friend, he could still see the redness on Jesse's neck. "But they hurt. . ." he began to protest.
"Steve," Jesse interrupted, "can you honestly tell me that when someone has hurt, or threatened to hurt, someone you're close to you haven't behaved in the same way." He paused, holding Steve's gaze waiting for the logic to break through his anger. "I got their friends killed."
Steve reacted to that, "Jess. . ." He didn't need to say any more for Jesse to get his meaning.
"OK," he acquiesced, "they think I got their friends killed." He really didn't want to get into another discussion of how much responsibility he bore for all of this. "They were just reacting to that. You would too."
Steve stared at him. How could he be so forgiving? These men had hurt him, who knows how far they would have gone if he hadn't arrived when he did.
He considered Jesse's argument, his defense of these three. Was Jess right? Would he have reacted in the same way? No, he would never. . . He caught himself in the lie, but he had. He had attacked and threatened people when he had thought they were hurting the ones he loved, had lost his temper, particularly when his father had been threatened, had gone up to and beyond the point of risking his career to protect those he loved. Was he any different from these three? The answer to that was yes, he would never attack three on one, would never deliberately seek pure revenge, he might threaten it but he knew where the line was drawn. He wasn't sure he could say the same for the three man who had attacked Jesse. In fact he was fairly sure that his friend would have been badly hurt if he hadn't been there, and it riled him to think of them getting away with it. He tried to come up with something that would counter Jesse's argument.
Jesse was still staring intently back at him. "Look Steve it's going to be bad enough with the rumours and accusations flying around here as it is. I'd rather just forget the whole thing ever happened."
Jesse's voice still rasped slightly, he sounded so tired and lifeless, so unlike himself that Steve knew the discussion was over, he wouldn't make this any more difficult for his friend. "All right, I'll go down to the station and make sure that they are questioned, then they'll be released without charge." He paused for a moment," but not yet, it won't do them any harm to sweat it out for a while."
Jesse gave a slight smile of gratitude. "Thanks," he said, his shoulders sagging further. He had used his last reserves of energy getting his point across to Steve. Suddenly the world seemed to shift, everything in his vision first tilting and then spinning. He wasn't sure which way was up but he had the sensation of falling, his muscles tensed. Why was he so cold? And why, if he was cold, was their sweat on the surface of his skin?
Steve read the signs just in time, catching his friend as he pitched forward and helping him to lean back onto the exam table. He looked at him and was relieved to see that his eyes were still open, a little dazed but still alert. "Hey," he said as Jesse seemed to refocus, "no need for the dramatic touches, you already won the argument."
Jesse took a deep breath, willing the room behind Steve to keep still. "Got to make sure," he paused to take another breath, "That you don't change your mind."
--
Steve met Detective Nathan Turner in the hospital canteen at around noon, once his dad had checked Jesse out again and had him settled in a room and on an IV to replace lost fluids and bring his blood sugar level back up, he had allowed the detective in to interview him. Mark had stayed leaving Steve free to check through the hospital personnel files both for potential victims and for potential suspects. It was beginning to look more and more like it was one of the hospital staff that was carrying out the attacks. With the increased security and most of the staff on alert for anything suspicious it was unlikely that a visitor to the hospital could pass around enough to not draw attention to themselves. Besides if Steve was right, then whoever this was had been watching Jesse, possibly them all for some time, making a staff member much more likely. Visitors and even patients would draw too much attention to themselves wondering the halls, whereas there was a myriad of different jobs that an employee could pretend to be doing, that would justify them being on the hospital corridors at any given time.
So Steve had spent his time looking at doctors, nurses, porters, cleaners, maintenance and security employees, trying to eliminate as many as he could to leave himself with a manageable list of possible suspects. With no real idea of motive, except for the fact that they had a grudge against Jesse, he decided to concentrate on the people who had joined the hospital in the last year, working on the assumption that someone with a grudge had taken a job at the hospital so that they could get close to him. Of course there was always the chance that Jesse had upset someone who already worked there but it seemed less likely, and he had to start somewhere.
That still left an impossibly long list, the turnover of doctors wasn't that high but as a teaching hospital there were all of the medical students, and there seem to have been plenty of changes in other areas. Once he included the agency staff who were brought in to cover staff absences and positions that were difficult to fill any other way, he really had his work cut out to just do the background checks that might yield some important information. He was glad that there were so many people working on this, checking on his own would have taken days.
He placed the pile of information that he had gathered on the table and sat down opposite Nathan, who stopped pushing the food on his plate around and looked up. "I don't know how people, eat this stuff, I can't even identify it."
Steve resisted the urge to point out that it was the meatloaf and that he happened to think it was quite good, knowing the reaction he would get, he already had enough comments made at his expense because of his liking of hospital food. So he just nodded his agreement as Nathan pushed his plate to one side.
"OK there are about eighty names on the list," Steve said tapping the top of the folder, "Hopefully we'll be able to eliminate a few fairly quickly, a number of the students come from out of state and can't possibly have any connection with Jesse."
The two detectives had discussed their strategy as soon as Nathan had arrived at the hospital. Despite the fact that he was nominally lead investigator on the case, Nathan had deferred to Steve's higher rank and greater experience, giving his own ideas but allowing Steve to call the strategy. Steve respected the young detective for that, there were others who were so career minded that they would have taken advantage of the situation, but Nathan's only agenda was to help stop the killer. It was probably why Newman had given him the job.
"Unless the trigger for this happened a long time in his past," Nathan suggested.
Steve sighed, it was another possibility that couldn't be entirely dismissed, but with a lack of clues in the physical evidence and no one with a motive standing out, their only choice was to check out those with opportunity, one at a time, hoping they made the right guesses when prioritising who to check first. "Well we may end up checking them all out more thoroughly. I'll run the list past Jesse too, see if it triggers any memories."
Nathan nodded, he had been quite shocked by the young doctor's appearance and if he had needed any convincing that Jesse was the victim here, that in itself would have been enough. "He's resting at the moment, I think your dad gave him something to knock him out for a while."
"In that case I'll go straight to the station and get some people working on these names. I've still got to interview those three that attacked him before I release them. What about you?"
Nathan pulled some sheets from his own pile of papers. "I've been looking at the next few attacks, I thought I'd concentrate on looking for likely targets and positions in the hospital where they could happen so that we've got them covered. It's a shame whoever is doing this isn't keeping to the order Jesse wrote, that would reduce the possibilities."
Steve nodded his agreement, "And they won't necessarily stick to the details about the victims either," Steve stated with a slight bitterness to his tone. If only they had warned all of the nurses. . . . He shook the thought off, it wouldn't help.
"I've come up with a plan that should mean we have most of the areas covered, either with hospital security or our own men. The only one that really worries me is Dr. Romano, he's injured by a small incendiary device, whoever this is could already have planted that. As they proved with the diner, they don't need to be anywhere near it when it goes off. I've got a couple of people from the bomb squad to come and check around but in a building this size it's not likely they'll find anything, assuming there's anything to find."
Realising that Nathan had finished detailing his progress Steve, began his own report. "Well, I contacted the computing section, they're going to call us the instant a chapter is posted. the last time it was ten minutes before the body was found, so it's possible that the killer will post the chapter just before they do anything, that might give us enough warning to at least do something to stop them."
"We can only hope, the way this killer is going we're not going to catch them unless they make a mistake." Nathan took out his notes. "Do you want to check over my plans?"
Steve shook his head, he knew Nathan was more than capable of covering all of the bases, besides, he wanted to get to the station and back before anything else happened. "No you're in charge," he said, standing, "I'm sure you've covered everything." He picked up his papers, "I'll be back as soon as I can." As he turned to leave he caught sight of Nathan's discarded plate and his stomach growled, reminding him that he'd skipped breakfast and had only had several cups of strong coffee to keep him going, he sighed inwardly, he just didn't have the time to stop right now, he'd have to catch something later.
--
It was three o'clock by the time Steve made it back to the hospital and it took him fifteen minutes to find a space in the crowded lot, he was only one level from the top and he lamented the fact that he could not park in his usual place, there was always space there. He picked up his files and stretched still aching muscles, trying to ignore the hunger pangs that added to his discomfort. He'd grab a sandwich as soon as he'd updated his dad and checked in on Jesse.
A sudden noise behind him made him jump, he turned sharply to see what it was as a young woman belatedly flipped the switch to turn off her alarm. He took a deep breath and for what seemed like the hundredth time that day muttered a soft curse to himself. It had taken him far too long to react and he needed to be more careful, particularly in this part of the hospital. He rubbed his hand across his face and checked round before heading more cautiously towards the nearest stairwell.
He checked his dad's office first but it was empty so he went straight on to Jesse's room, figuring his father would be there, and if not then Jesse or the nurses would know where he was.
Jesse was sitting up when he walked in and looked considerably better than he had the last time Steve had seen him, his colour was back and the dark circles under his eyes were not so pronounced. "Hey Steve," he said, pleased to see his friend back. In fact he would have been pleased to see anyone, he didn't want to be left alone with his thoughts at the moment. "You've just missed your dad he was paged to go down to the OR, left a couple of minutes ago."
Steve nodded his acknowledgement of the information and took a seat. "How are you doing?" He asked, trying to make the enquiry sound casual.
Jesse looked down at the blanket, physically he felt a thousand times better, between the forced rest and the IV, his body had recovered a lot of his strength, but he knew that wasn't all Steve was asking about. He looked back up, "better," he replied. "You come up with anything yet?"
Steve sighed, "No but I've got some stuff here for you to look through if you feel up to it."
Jesse was about to reply when Steve's cell phone rang. He took it out and his pulse kicked into overdrive as he recognised the number of the computing section. "Sloan," he answered as he hit the connect.
"Dr. Romano in the OR sluice room," was all the voice at the other end said, it was all of the information he'd asked for. The name of the doctor gave him the method of attack, so one of the doctors was going to be hit by a small explosion in the OR.
Even as the thoughts connected, Steve was on his feet, "Romano in the OR," he repeated the information for Jesse as he headed for the door at a dead run.
It took Jesse only slightly longer to make the connection himself. He ripped the IV out of the back of his hand and ran after his friend, the adrenaline rush of fear allowing him to ignore any residual shakiness.
Steve tried to hit the correct sequence of buttons to connect the speed dial to Mark's cell but at the speed he was running he had difficulty. Finally he managed it but the line was engaged. He cursed and almost threw his phone away in disgust.
Mark looked at his phone, it kept ringing but when he answered it there was no one there. He resolved to turn it off and deal with it when he had checked on whatever crisis it was that needed his attention in the OR. The panicked cry behind him made him turn just as he reached the main outer door that led first to the sluice rooms and then to OR3. He barely had time to acknowledge it was Steve, who had called out, barely time to register the words, "Dad, No," as his hand pushed on the door . Then Steve collided with him at a run, pushing him away from the double door just as it exploded outwards. .