Chapter 16

Jack pushed the doors to the emergency room open and walked inside, catching a glimpse of the stretcher with Nina on it just being rolled into one of the trauma rooms. He quickly followed after and slipped in with one of the nurses.

The paramedics had already torn off the coat, still at the airfield, thereby discovering the earlier gunshot wound. He remembered one of the guys hissing a whistle. What has she been through? Vietnam? Now the bandage at her arm was all Jack could see of her with all the doctors and nurses crowding around her.

"Excuse me, Sir," he heard a voice, "you can't be in here," and knew it was meant for him.

He turned his head to one of the doctors, apparently the one in charge.

"Are you a relative?" she asked and Jack felt his stomach revolting. He quickly shook his head. "I'm a federal agent."

She didn't seem to be impressed.

"You still can't be in here. Would you please wait outside?"

"No, you don't understand," he insisted, not even sure if he understood himself. "This woman is in my custody." What was he doing?

Probably wondering the same, the doctor cast an annoyed look at him.

"Yeah, well, she's not going anyway for the moment."

One of the nurses moved aside and Jack got a better view on Nina. There was blood on her face, in her hair, all over her chest, and her skin was so pale, even whiter than usually.

Okay, let's bring her in but I doubt she'll make it half the way, one of the medics had said when they had put her onto the stretcher and into the ambulance.

Jack heard Wagner behind him clear his throat and glanced over his shoulder, noticing the subtle hint from the Special Forces leader that it was better to leave now. He stared at Nina again for a moment longer before he slowly moved.

"Alright, but we'll be right outside."

Wagner closed the door in front of him once they were outside and Jack just stood there for a while, peering in through the glass frame in the door.

"Agent Bauer?" he felt Wagner's hand on his shoulder and turned around. "It's your office."

He took the phone that was held out to him and finally left his position in front of the door to the trauma room.

"Yes?"

"Jack," he heard Tony's voice. "I just thought you might wanna know - we went through the house Amador was staying at and it seems he had indeed a meeting set up for later today."

"Do we have a name?" Jack asked, taking a few steps down the hallway.

"Not yet. But we're still going through his personal stuff and the data we got from his computer and notebook."

"Ok, give me a heads-up when you get something."

"Sure."

There was a pause and Jack knew Tony was thinking about a good way to approach the subject.

"What about Nina?"

"She's being examined," he said and was surprised at how calm his voice sounded.

"Look, Jack, even if she's gonna make it, we have people down there who can take care of this. I want you to come back in. Chappelle wants you to come back in."

Of course he does, Jack thought. But he wasn't sure what he wanted himself. He had thought he knew it but...since the airfield he just didn't know anymore.

"I heard you took a hit yourself?" Tony brought him back. "Get yourself checked out once you're in the hospital and then get back here. Ok?"

Jack hesitated, looking around.

"Yeah. Sure."

He hung up and stared at his feet for a moment, appreciating that Tony had given him some time but not sure if he even wanted it. What was it good for? He should just go home. To Kim.

"Move it," he heard someone yell and looked up to see the door being pushed open and the stretcher with Nina on it being rolled out.

He went over and wanted to follow along but Wagner gave him a sign that they got it covered. Staring after the little group, Jack watched them getting into the elevator.

"They are bringing her up to surgery," the doctor explained, stepped out of the room now as well, ripping the blood-stained coat off and throwing it into the bin.

"Is she gonna make it?" he asked and she shook her head, staring towards the elevator as well now.

"Hard to say. Two of the bullets only did minor damage to her arm and her shoulder. But the third one was a direct hit and if they can't stop the internal bleedings -"

Jack felt his stomach convulsing and groaned, causing her to reach out for his arm as to support him, touching his shoulder and causing him to wince even more.

"Alright, let's have a look at you now, shall we?"

"No, I'm fine," he objected but she was already leading him to one of the examination rooms.

"Yeah, I can see that," she said with a critical look at his shoulder. "You already got something against the pain?"

He nodded.

"Carla?" she called out to one of the nurses, "we're in E2."

Jack tried to free his arm but she was stronger than she seemed at first sight and not really having anything better to do he gave up.

"Sit down," she ordered and once he had slumped down on the bed, she started to remove the bandage from his shoulder.

"Mm, nice," she exclaimed. "What was that?"

"A pen," he answered truthfully, wincing a little when she touched the wound.

"A pen? I thought you've been in a shoot-out."

"Yeah, we usually use more sophisticated weapons," he growled and looked up in surprise when she laughed at his remark.

"So, Mr. Federal Agent," she said sarcastically. "You wanna tell me what happened to you?"

"I can't talk about it."

"I don't mean the shoot-out," she said and he looked down. "How long have you been without?"

He hesitated but in the end - what did it matter.

"Couple of days."

"How are you holding up?" she asked.

"I'm alright," he growled but when she just remained silent and waited, he added in a less grumpy voice, "the usual withdrawal symptoms but I got it under control."

"Good. If you want I can give you something to -".

"No," he cut her short. He didn't want to prolong the process with any placebos. "Thank you."

"Your choice," she sighed and turned around to gather some stuff, opening a drawer here, collecting a bandage there, and finally rolled a chair in front of him to sit down as well.

"This is gonna need some stitches and I wanna give you a tetanus injection just to be on the safe side," she explained and he nodded. She started working and for a while they just sat in silence.

-x-

"So, the woman you brought in," Taylor asked, setting the first stitch, "is she dangerous?"

"I thought I mentioned that I can't talk about it," he retorted but she didn't give up that easily. She never did when she was out for something.

"Well, I'm just concerned about my patients."

He gave her a critical look and she laughed.

"Besides, I'm incredibly curious."

"Don't you have professional secrecy as well in your line of work?" he asked back.

"Oh sure. Which is why we can be trusted with most things."

"So you couldn't give me information about your patients either."

"Not if I gave you any names. But theoretically," she hinted, "if I was just gonna refer to a case example..."

"Well, in my job we don't refer to case examples," he growled but then something made him change his mind, maybe the pain-killers, maybe his general condition. "But to answer your question: yes, she's extremely dangerous."

"Uhu," she sighed, setting another stitch, "I kinda guessed so when I saw all those uniforms. You are not with the Bureau," she took a wild guess, as if she had any idea about those things. But it seemed to do the trick.

"No. I'm with CTU," he explained.

"CTU?" She couldn't remember ever having heard the abbreviation.

"Counter Terrorist Unit."

She paused and glanced at him. Counter Terrorist? This was worth than she had thought.

She resumed her work at his shoulder. "She's a terrorist then?"

He didn't answer at first which caused her to cast another quick glance at his face, noticing that he was staring at the ground now, obviously not sure what to say.

"I guess so," he finally stated.

"You guess?" she asked surprised. "Someone shot four bullets into her and she's lucky if she makes it through surgery, not mentioning the little military camp out there. I better hope you're sure she is." If that woman wasn't a terrorist, she didn't wanna see how those were treated.

"She killed my wife."

She froze. And leaned back to have a better look at his face. Did she hear correctly?

He stared back at her, his eyes tired and dark, his expression nearly blank.

"I'm sorry," she said and felt stupid. She should have shut up instead of bombarding him with questions. She focused on his wound again.

"It's alright," he said, sounding almost indifferent. "It's been almost five years."

Five years? She turned to his wound again.

"My best friend's sister got killed three years ago," she told him. "They never found the guy who did it."

"I'm sorry," he said but she just shrugged.

"We gave up hope they ever will. But at least you got your killer now."

He didn't reply to this and she concentrated on the stitches again, still wondering though how this personal involvement had come about.

However, she had been right, there was definitely something more going on between him and the woman. Her sense for these things hadn't failed her.

"I always thought I wanted to kill her," he suddenly said and just pulling the needle through his skin she gave him a quick side glance.

He was staring into space now, didn't even seem aware of her anymore.

"And I tried. I tried so hard. But I couldn't. There was always something...that kept me from doing it and until today, I always thought I would have done it if it hadn't been for..."

He fell silent and she thought it was over. He probably had become aware of the fact that he was talking to a complete stranger about this. Not that she wasn't used to people telling her the most intimate things, many of them being in shock or just having lost someone, seen terrible things or simply having been lucky while others hadn't.

"But I can't," he continued and she let him talk, knowing it was the best she could do.

"I can't just kill her. It's not enough."

He fell silent again and glancing at him one more time she saw tears running down his face.

She turned back to his wound, silently setting another stitch.