Disclaimeroony: *affects President Clintonesque accent* I did not have ownership relations with that popular TV drama.

Oh it just keeps coming doesn't it? Surprising me too, I can tell you. Now I'm no expert on police procedures here or in America so I'm guessing and cobbling things together from films and TV. I also don't know if they'd be allowed to keep the OR open but I'm going with dramatic license here.

Be patient if you think I'm stretching it out. Next chapter will be getting into some talking and R & E might actually converse!

Review, review, shout, complain, air controversial political ideas, declare your love etc, etc.

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There were more police in the OR than the entirety of Chicago, thought Robert grimly as another stream of uniforms passed him. The surgery on Mr Keeler, the man with the neck wound, was almost over. He had hovered in the room, blasting out orders and detailing treatment to the two surgeons, who had ignored him or merely muttered 'yes Dr Romano.'

Oh they could be cutting and withering now of course. He was Samson and that dear old helicopter was his Delilah. He allowed himself a smirk at the analogy, seeing as Samson too had no hair. They could be patronising because they felt pleased his strength had gone. The only person who wasn't, was her...

The police had turned up halfway through and Shirley had dashed in to tell him. He was still Chief of Staff of course. Samson still had a comb-over.

Orders, priorities and protocol had been bandied about like pinball's, as the gurney was replaced with a proper cordon and police behind shields. The SWAT team was in evidence, heavyset men behind yards of black uniform, helmets and masks.

A woman with short blond hair in her forties was holding a phone to her ear at the nurse's station, surrounded by a few worried looking officers. Her jacket said 'Negotiator'. She put the phone down and shook her head at the surrounding officers.

'Give it a minute and we'll try again,' she said in a world-weary voice, 'get him used to the idea we're out here.'

Detective Franks, who had introduced himself, as 'in charge' was a tall, man with a thick moustache. He wanted to evacuate the entire OR floor, but Robert was standing his ground.

'I don't care if its unsafe, what's worse is leaving a county hospital without a functioning OR. Non urgent cases that's fine, but you want me to deal with the urgent ones where exactly? In the maternity wards?' he demanded, drawing himself up to face this man who was at least a foot taller.

'Send them elsewhere-' began Detective Franks.

'No if we do that, we'll have to shut down the ER to all trauma, do you know what'll happen with the amount of other hospitals we do not have?'

'Well-'

'Didn't think so. No-one has our facilities or expertise now if you want some jerk who jack-knifes his car, then can't be brought here for treatment and ends up paralysed to sue the city and remove that lovely Christmas bonus of yours then fine, but personally that's not so appealing!'

Detective Franks, pursed his lips and waited for Robert to finish, looking every inch a man dealing with a persistent and rather loud terrier.

'Okay Dr Romano, you want it to stay open fine, on your own head be it and it will be if this thing gets investigated afterwards. I'm going to deal with the madman shooter that your security let through!'

He strode of quickly, to avoid any more argument.

'Jerk!' muttered Robert.

'Yeah,' said Shirley, wryly, 'so all the non-urgent cases are to go?'

Robert still in COS mode began to organise and fire out orders.

'If they can,' said Robert, beginning to walk down the corridor, away from the heady chaos and towards his office, 'non-urgent out or elsewhere if they still need treatment. We are closed to major trauma's no multi-car pile-ups, plane crashes, mass shootings etc, etc. Every single surgeon on the rota is to be here, and nowhere but.'

'Anspaughs been looking for you.'

'Well he can carry on looking, I'm going to be non-existent for a while.'

He told her to get him in five minutes, then entered the cool security of his office. He closed the door and everything muffled behind him. He realised he was still wearing his scrub cap and pulled it off. He was still in his scrubs, but they seemed appropriate. Scrubs meant surgery meant life. He walked over the couch and sat down with a long sigh.

His head, so clear a minute ago, clouded suddenly and began to ache. His arm, he noticed, was beginning to do a little protest dance of its own. He sighed again and moved to his desk, pulling a drawer, which contained papers and a bottle of painkillers. He swallowed a couple, then tossed the bottle onto the table, where it fell over and spilled some of its contents. Robert just stared at the little white pills, trailing across the glass.

He closed his eyes and drew her in his head. It was a game he liked to play sometimes, drawing her face then her body from top to toe. He had studied her from every angle for so long that it was easy to do. Today her drew her as on her day off, dressed in white T-short and jeans, smiling in a sunny park.

The image suddenly became corrupted, and the T-shirt stained with blood, she lay on the floor, her eyes open and glassy. His own eyes flew open, moist suddenly.

Come on Rocket, don't go there she's still alive remember. '...I've got a doctor in here to take care of them...' Oh and you're going to trust a madman with a gun, why exactly?

Move on. The others. There were other patients. Mr Keeler would be fine, who else had been in there? Shirley had told the detective. A Jack Marshall and his girlfriend, Sarah. Jane Graham, of course, and her mother. The Graham kid! The transplant! She was not going to be doing well. He groaned. Elizabeth would be trying her best, but without the right stuff, how long could she keep her alive?

Something kicked his brain.

Kid. Ella. Damn!

He stood up suddenly, a renewed sense of purpose in him and went to sit behind his desk grabbing the phone.

He pulled open a drawer and grabbed a book with all the contact details of the hospitals surgeons. He liked to have it, in case they were late or didn't show for any reason, so he could ring and shout at them personally.

There was her number, and his fingers pressed the keys quickly. One ring, then another-hang on, what was the name of her nanny again? Julie, no, Karen, wait a minute, Kris-

'Hello, Dr Corday's house, her nanny speaking?'

He suddenly heard a shrieking laugh and a childish giggle, backed by the jingling music of a kid's TV show. His heart did a somersault.

'Uh, hi, this is...Dr Romano from county-' he began.

'Oh hi Dr Romano, Elizabeth's told me all about you.'

Has she indeed? How come you're not running for cover then?

'Uh, yeah, listen, Kris...I've got to tell you something and I want you to be calm about it.'

The last thing he needed was a hysterical girl screaming down the phone at him.

'Okay. What is it, what's going on?' her voice had taken an edgy tone.

He took a breath then explained as calmly and simply as he could manage what had happened. There was silence at the end of the phone and he wondered for a minute if she'd past out. But then he heard a couple of gulping breaths and she managed,

'Oh.'

'So, stay there and we'll contact you if anything happens. I mean, when this mess is sorted. I need you to stay with Ella,' he said.

I need you to protect that little girl, he thought. I wish I could.

'Of course, of course I can. Only...I have my sister staying at the moment and she needs help with her kids. She isn't well. I'm kind of juggling things at the moment,' she said in a constrained voice, edging towards panic.

'Okay. Well just keep her as long as you can and I promise I will get back to you. I'll sort something.'

He replaced the phone feeling slightly better. At least he had done something to help her, even if it was only temporary. Now you have to find someone to take care of the kid. What about her parents? Oh splendid idea, get Mrs Astronut and her bickering hubby in here. You want to clear the chaos not invite more in, Rocket.

The door flew open and Donald Anspaugh flung his head round looking pale and jowly.

'There you are Dr Romano,' he growled, 'I've been looking all over for you.'

'Well as you can see we've had a little bit of a situation on our hands,' said Robert, coldly, 'seeing as I'm in charge I thought I'd, y'know, try to sort it.'

'Don't start Robert,' said Anspaugh, forcefully, 'this is bad for everyone, not just you. I was going to discuss contingency measures but it looks like I'll have to sort those out alone. The police negotiator-she wants you.'