Chapter 16: Aftermath
D.C. General Medical CenterMonday, 14 June
8 pm
She was quiet as she sat in the exam room, waiting for a doctor to come check her out. Myles was in a chair by the bed, still holding her hand— mostly because she wasn't letting go for anything— but seeming to understand her need to process a bit.
Suddenly, she looked up at the clock over the door, and a gasp crossed her lips. "Less than five hours…" she whispered.
He nodded. "Seems more like a lifetime, doesn't it?" he replied softly, knowing she needed to talk, but letting her control the direction of the conversation.
Elizabeth let go of his hand and reached over to touch his cheek, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. "I am so very sorry, love."
"For what?"
"For not listening when I should have. I was so stubborn about waiting on the safe house. If I hadn't insisted on getting my patients settled, none of this would have happened, Jack wouldn't be hurt, you wouldn't be in trouble with Mr. Garrett… and you'd be able to look at me without flinching."
He stood and, very gently, took her face in his hands, kissing away her protests with a feather-light touch. "The only reason I'm flinching is because I imagine it hurts like crazy, and I wish I could go through it for you. Love, I did the same string of 'if only I'd' when we came up out of that utility tunnel and I realized you were gone. And D and Jack told me to knock it off, that it did no good for any of us. They were right. So you have nothing to apologize for."
She sighed, leaning her unbruised cheek against him. "I'd still feel better if I knew Jack was okay. You told me earlier the bullet just grazed his head?"
Myles nodded again. "Yes. If you want, I'll go check and see how he's doing. Will you be all right here by yourself for a few minutes?"
"Yeah. The doctor should be in shortly anyway, I hope. I want to get out of here."
He laughed softly. "I always wondered if it were true that doctors make the worst patients. Okay. I'll be right back."
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Tara jumped up from her chair as Myles came down the hall. "How's she doing?"
He moved aside as a doctor brushed past him. "All right, for the moment. I think she's still in a bit of shock."
"Understandable. She up to an extra visitor for a second?"
He thought for a moment. "I think so. She really wants to know how Jack is. She's blaming herself for him getting hurt. And for the rest of it, too, but I think that's the center point."
Tara nodded. "I think there's a whole heap of self-blame going around right now. So many things went too weird on this one. Anyway, we just got an update, so I can fill her in."
He smiled and extended an arm. "After you, then."
She filled him in on Jack's condition as they started down the hall. They hadn't gotten more than a few feet when a blood-curdling scream sounded from down the hall. Myles and Tara exchanged a lightning glance, then took off at a sprint.
They found Elizabeth cowering in the corner of the exam room, her hands over her face and the scream reduced to a whimpering, as a totally confused young doctor was just reaching for the alert button. Myles put a hand on his arm. "Wait, please."
The young man turned around, and both agents had to bury a gasp. Bright blue eyes looked back at them, and even the man's facial features… they could have been looking at Evan Graham fifteen years ago.
"I came to examine Miss Dillingham," the doctor said softly, checking her name on the chart in his hand. "But as soon as she looked at me she screamed and backed away. Who are you people?"
Tara pulled out her ID. "We're the FBI agents who just got her out of the clutches of a maniac serial killer…"
"…to whom you bear a remarkable resemblance," Myles finished. "Perhaps another physician would be more appropriate at this time."
The doctor nodded immediately. "Of course. I'll see if Dr. Coombs is available. That's Sherri Coombs, by the way." He looked over to where Elizabeth was still sitting in the corner, curled in a ball, her head lying on her arms. "Can you calm her down a little? It will certainly help in determining whether her physical condition is stable enough to send her home or admit her."
Myles nodded. The doctor stepped out of the room, and the two agents hurried over to the psychologist.
She was shaking so badly that they didn't dare try to get her to her feet. Tara knelt and placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Liz?"
Green eyes snapped up to look at her. "Five hours. Five hours of absolute hll, all because of a stupid glitch in a gadget from an organization that's supposed to be the best in the world." Elizabeth's voice was low and positively lethal. "So much for cyber-wizardry."
Tara reared back, her dark eyes widening even as they filled with tears. "Liz, that's not fair. I… I tried everything I could think of to get it to work…" She trailed off as Myles pulled her to her feet and they stepped back slightly.
"It's okay, Tara," he said softly. "Let me talk to her for a minute or so?" He quickly spelled out A-F-T-E-R-S-H-O-C-K.
Tara nodded, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I'll just wait outside, in case she'd rather have a female friend at her side while Dr. Coombs is checking her out." She smiled as he shrugged and signed thank you to her, then got to her feet and went out.
By the time he turned around again, Elizabeth had gotten to her feet and was now staring out the window, her arms folded tightly over her chest. Myles walked over to her and mirrored her pose, leaning against the opposite edge of the windowsill.
He understood; she must be rubbing off on me, he thought. The anger she'd relied upon during her ordeal was now protecting her from its aftermath. She needed to deal with it, though; it wouldn't be easy or quick, but venting some of that anger was the first step. Myles braced himself, mentally and emotionally, to take the lion's share of her wrath.
He took a breath, then spoke to her, his voice hardening just slightly. "Don't you think you were a bit harsh with Tara? She practically had a nervous breakdown trying to get that program debugged so we could find you."
The look in her eyes burned through him like a laser. "Harsh. This from the man who negelcted to inform me that my shiny little piece-of-junk tracking device also had a damn camera in it? You think I was harsh with Tara, you haven't heard anything yet, Myles."
He didn't break her gaze, and kept a tight rein on his own temper. "You want to yell at me, go right ahead. You're absolutely right. I should have told you about the camera. I'm sorry you had to find out about it from Graham."
"Every move he made, every punch he threw, every disgusting thing he said and did to me, recorded and witnessed real-time by a veritable stadium of onlookers." Her voice shook, from fury or shock he couldn't tell.
"Elizabeth, if it weren't for that camera, we'd have never found you in time." His words softened with his gaze. "The tracker was too small to pinpoint which floor you were on. Bobby's and D's teams had searched that entire building before they reached the spot where you heard them. If you hadn't started fingerspelling right then, who knows how much longer it would have taken us to find you."
"Time enough for him to finish his little 'experiment,' I'm sure." Now the anger was dissipating into terror again, but she didn't move.
Myles risked a step closer to her and reached for her hand. "Sweetheart," he asked softly, "what did he have planned? I was headed for the tunnel just after you told us about the new utility access. Jack was going in by himself, and I couldn't let him do that."
She shied from his touch, but her eyes met his, softening just slightly. "I had wondered how you ended up down there. How's Jack doing, by the way?"
"He's fine. The graze stunned him a bit, but he was coherent for the minute or so I talked to him before I came in to get you, and he pretty much made it to the ambulance on his feet. Tara said they're going to keep him overnight for observation, but he's fine."
Elizabeth sighed. "I'm glad of that. I feel responsible for him getting hurt in the first place, and starting that whole chain-reaction. The relief nearly made me faint, and I got in his line of fire—"
Myles gently put a finger to her lips. "I seem to recall you refusing to let me apologize for bruising your arms during my panic attack. You had no more control over your reaction than I did." When she nodded, he put his arm around her shoulders, led her back over to the exam table and sat her down.
"Now," he said, pulling over a stool so he could sit at eye level with her, "tell me what he said to you about this 'experiment.' I can tell you need some release from it. Please let me help."
Elizabeth looked at him, the faintest trace of a smile appearing. "We've been going out too long. You're starting to sound like a therapist." Getting only a persistent, patient gaze, she sighed. "All right. But it's only going to make you angry…"
When she finished, she looked up to find the same slow boil she'd seen last night (Was it really just last night? That incredible evening turned upside-down?). He started to speak, but had to stop for a moment. "Thank God we found you in time," was what he finally managed as the door opened and Dr. Sherri Coombs walked in.
Myles swallowed whatever he'd been about to say next. "Tara's just outside, if you'd prefer some female company during this."
Elizabeth gripped his hand tightly. "I watched you get shot tonight, love. If you can handle it, I'm not letting you out of my sight." As he nodded, she lay back on the exam table and took a deep breath. "Let's get this over with."
Most of the exam went smoothly; nothing worse than some contusions and a few shallow lacerations on her face. The worst of it were the deep gouges from Graham's fingernails on her breasts.
Myles kept his gaze on her face the entire time, so he clearly saw the flash of fear that crossed Elizabeth's face as Dr. Coombs asked her to draw her knees up.
"No," she replied quickly. "He didn't touch me—"
"I'm sorry, Miss Dillingham," the doctor replied. "It's procedure, given the nature of your ordeal. It will only take a second."
Tears started down her cheeks. "No, please…"
Myles saw green eyes pleading with him to step in, to intercede for her. But he knew he couldn't; certainly not officially, and not even on a personal level. He smoothed a strand of hair back from her face. "It's all right, love," he said softly. "I'm right here. No one's going to hurt you. Dr. Coombs needs to do this. Then we can go home. Okay?"
Elizabeth held his hand tighter and nodded, doing as the doctor had indicated. Myles talked to her softly the whole time, watching the corners of her eyes crinkle slightly at the obviously unpleasant sensations the exam created. After about two minutes, Dr. Coombs indicated she was finished, and Myles helped Elizabeth sit up.
"Last question," she smiled. "You two are obviously a couple, but you're not…?"
Elizabeth shook her head. "We're waiting."
"Admirable, and a tad surprising these days," Dr. Coombs replied. "May I ask, just out of curiosity: that decision was—?"
"Mutual." Myles' tone indicated that was as far as her curiosity was getting satisfied.
She chuckled. "I wasn't going to ask anything else. You can relax." Then she faced Elizabeth. "You're going to be sore for several days, but there's no permanent damage. I'm going to give you some painkillers, just enough for a few days. Take one when you get home— it will allow you to sleep tonight. Keep the cold packs on your face intermittently, to keep the swelling down. That's the physical part. I'd also suggest some counseling for the rest."
Elizabeth nodded fervently. "Already in the works. I'm a psychologist in a private clinic; I already have plans to call one of my colleagues as soon as I get out of here. I can go home now, right?"
Dr. Coombs smiled. "Yes, you can go home. Although I suspect you're not headed for your own house."
Myles put his arm around Elizabeth and pulled her against him. "Not tonight, anyway. I plan to keep as close an eye on her as you all will be on my teammate."
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Tara stood up as they walked out of the exam room, and Elizabeth immediately went over and gave her a hug. "I'm sorry," she said. "It wasn't your fault; I know that. I understand you nearly beat your computer to death over me."
Tara returned the hug. "Hey, you have to threaten them once in awhile. You okay?"
Elizabeth nodded. "'Bruised and bloodied, but unbowed.' Or something like that. What I want now is to see Jack for a second, then a hot bath, something to eat, and the warmest embrace someone can come up with, in that order." She winked at Myles as he laughed. "Then I'll worry about the rest tomorrow."
"Well, I can help you with the first part," Tara smiled. "Bobby just came by and told me Jack's been moved to a room for the night. Visiting hours are about up, but I think we can sneak you in. The rest of it I'll just have to leave in someone else's capable hands."
"If you two are quite finished," Myles quipped in response, "why don't we go let someone else take the brunt of your wit." He draped an arm around each lady's shoulders with a grin. "Heaven knows, I've had enough of it for the moment."
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Leland Home, Washington D.C.
Tuesday, 15 June
9 a.m.
Elizabeth stretched as she slowly woke up, enjoying the sunshine streaming through the window from the curtains that had just been pulled back. As she woke fully, she realized she wasn't where she'd last remembered being.
"How did I end up in your room?" she asked Myles as he came over to sit on the edge of the bed.
He smiled. "After you passed out on the couch from that painkiller last night, I carried you up here. I figured maybe the guest room wasn't a good idea, so I slept in there and left you in here."
"Oh." She sat up, her hair falling around her shoulders, and stretched again. "At least my arms don't feel like they're being twisted off anymore."
"That's good. How's the face feel?"
Elizabeth leaned toward him. "Well enough that I can handle a real kiss from you now, I think."
He laughed softly and obliged her immediately. "No nightmares?" he asked when they parted.
Her eyes clouded over a little as she shook her head. "No. But I suspect it was because of the painkiller. This won't leave my subconscious easily, I'm afraid. I have my first appointment with Dr. Sutherland this afternoon."
Myles stroked her cheek. "They need to talk to you at the office a bit, too, preferably this morning. Nothing big, just a clarification of some things is all."
"Will Graham still be around there?" Her voice wavered again.
"I doubt it. Bobby said he was pretty much bragging all night about all this, how it took us forever to find him, how we'd have never caught him if it weren't for you and I being together. Pretty much what we expected."
She heard the edge in his voice, and smiled a little. "You're really wishing you'd had a chance to belt him before he shot you, aren't you?"
His eyes were dead serious. "Although it wouldn't help much when Garrett drags me into his office, I suspect I'm already in enough trouble that it wouldn't make a whole lot of difference. So I'm tempted to belt Graham if I see him today, just on principle."
"You and me both." Then she threw her arms around him and held him tightly. "Love, thank you for being here, for being so understanding. This won't be easy on either of us— and the mood swings will be wide, believe me. I've watched other patients go through the same thing. And the fact that I'm a psychologist won't make much difference— the psyche is a fragile thing no matter how well you understand it."
He held her a moment longer, dropping a kiss into her hair. "You just worry about getting back on your feet. I'm here for the duration, maybe 24/7 if Garrett decides to suspend me."
Her eyes widened in concern. "You think he will?"
Myles shrugged. "I don't feel like speculating about it. Go grab a shower; I'll toss together some breakfast, and we'll both go find out."
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Bullpen, Hoover Building
Tuesday, 10 a.m.
Ted Garrett was waiting at the elevator. "Agent Leland, I want you in my office right now. I will be there shortly." His tone of voice revealed very little about how the ensuing discussion would go.
Myles nodded silently, gave Elizabeth a quick kiss on the cheek and headed down the hall. Garrett turned to the psychologist. "Dr. Dillingham, a word with you in the Bullpen, please."
Elizabeth cast a single glance down the hall, then nodded and preceded Garrett into the Bullpen.
A group of hugs met her, which she returned with a "thank you" to each of them. The last individual made her brows shoot up, though. "How did I just know you'd be here, even if they had to bring you in a wheelchair? Don't you ever take a break?"
Jack laughed. "Not if I can help it."
Sue added, "I went to pick him up this morning at the hospital and take him home, but he pulled rank on me and gave me a direct order to bring him here. What could I do?"
Ted Garrett brought the chatter to a screeching halt. "People, I have an agent waiting in my office. I want some answers before I decide whether to suspend him for disobeying direct orders, or send him back to work with you."
That got everyone's attention, and seats were taken. "Tara, I want to see the last portion of that surveillance video from yesterday." Ted watched Elizabeth stiffen, and his voice held a touch of compassion. "Dr. Dillingham, if there were any other way for me to know what happened down there, I would. But you were the only one there who can answer my questions, and my discussion with Agent Leland will hinge very highly on what you tell me here. From the last time you worked with us, I know I can depend upon your candor and honesty."
She nodded. "Yes, sir. You can."
Tara started the video, right at the point where Graham punched her across the jaw. Elizabeth flinched, hard, reliving the pain of it. Then Graham's attention focused off-camera.
"Stop it there, Tara." Garrett turned to the psychologist. "What's happening right there?"
"That's where Jack came in," she replied. The video started again; she watched in horror as she slumped forward, blocking Jack's line of fire and giving Graham time to react.
"Jack…" She trailed off, tears starting down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry…"
"Not necessary, Liz," Jack replied. "It wasn't anything you could control, and if I'd thought ahead enough I'd have been expecting that reaction and changed my entry angle slightly. It was as much my mistake." He held her gaze until she nodded.
"All right. Graham shot at Jack, and…?" Garrett prodded her to continue.
"Jack kind of spun back into the doorway," Elizabeth said, her composure returning. "I couldn't see any movement; I thought he was dead. After that, I was concentrating on Graham again."
"Agent Hudson?" The big man folded his arms across his chest, waiting.
Jack filled them all in on the brief conversation he and Myles had had outside the doorway. "He made sure I could see him lock the safety on the gun, Ted," the dark-haired agent said soberly. "He wasn't planning on firing. He was just trying to buy some time for Bobby to get there. Myles doesn't often back up something by giving his word, but he did this time."
Garrett nodded thoughtfully. "What was he doing down there in the first place?"
Jack related the message Elizabeth had given them, and the initial conversation in the tunnel. Tara filled in her brief argument with Myles in the van.
"We checked out that tripwire later," Bobby added. "Was a homemade version of what they used to call a 'bouncing betty'— coffee can full of buckshot, wired up to go off from above. A land mine, essentially. If Myles hadn't called him on that tripwire, Jack'd be spaghetti right now."
"All right." Garrett motioned to Tara to start the video again. They watched as Graham pulled out the hypodermic needle and headed slowly toward Elizabeth. They saw her head snap around and focus off-camera, and Graham's smile get wider. "Stop it there."
"That's where Myles came in," Elizabeth said softly. She then related Myles' words as the video started again, since he was out of the picture.
"At any time did he indicate he was planning to discharge his weapon at Graham, or to subdue him in any way?"
She thought for a moment. "No. In fact, I wondered at the time why he didn't make more of a move. But I didn't know the safety was locked."
The video continued. A second muzzle flash was visible, and then Elizabeth screaming. Graham picked up the needle again, walking over to her. Then that wonderful, awful moment when Bobby walked in and she knew, or thought, it was all over.
They watched her stretch to free her hands and then pick up the gun Myles had been holding. Garrett asked Tara to stop the film again. "Whose gun is that?"
"Myles', I believe," she answered.
"It's mine, sir," Jack answered almost simultaneously. "Myles picked it up after I got shot."
"Myles' gun is still locked in an overhead bin in the surveillance van," Sue said. "Tara and I watched him put it in there before he went after Jack."
Ted Garrett let his glare work its way around the room. "Let me get this straight. Agent Leland went down into that tunnel unarmed, then locked the safety on a fellow agent's gun after that agent was down, then proceeded to try to hold a serial killer at bay long enough for Agent Manning to arrive on the scene, getting himself shot in the process? And all this after I made it very clear to him that he was not to be anywhere except in the surveillance van as an observer?"
Glances circled the room; then Jack, Tara, Bobby, Sue and Elizabeth all nodded quietly. Garrett sat back a bit against Jack's desk, arms still folded, processing everything he'd just heard.
"All right," he said finally. "I think I have everything I need. Dr. Dillingham, I believe Agent Gans will need an official statement from you, filling in those gaps we just covered. This will all be in the case report. Am I understood?"
He left, in his wake a rather uncomfortable silence. Finally Elizabeth had to ask. "What does all this mean, guys? Is he going to suspend Myles, or worse?"
Bobby leaned back on his desk, his hands in his pockets. "Dunno, Liz. I do know one thing, though."
She raised a brow. "What, Bobby?"
"I don't ever want to play cards with Garrett. He's got a poker face like a granite cliff."
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Ted Garrett's Office, Hoover Building
Tuesday, 10:30 a.m.
Myles tried very hard to not fidget in the chair like some teenager sent to the principal's office, but that was exactly what this felt like. Or facing a firing squad, only you don't know when the sergeant is going to yell "Fire."
It had been a half hour since he'd come in here, and every minute was crawling over him worse than when they were waiting for Graham to make a move before they had anything to go on. Only this time it wasn't frustration; it was a mind-numbing fear that he was about to have to find a new line of work.
The least Garrett would do, would have to do, was suspend him. For how long was anyone's guess. At worst, if pressure from upstairs was too severe, Myles knew his supervisor would have no choice but to terminate him.
This is all I've ever wanted to do, he thought, wishing there were something to break the silence. Even Elizabeth doesn't know that… only Sam does, I think, and that's only because I dragged him into more "cops and robbers" games when we were kids and he'd have rather been doing something else. What am I going to do if this blows up in my face?
After a moment, he clamped down tightly on all the useless speculation. Enough. If it comes to that, it comes to that. I'll deal with it then. He sighed heavily. I hope Elizabeth is all right. Having to relive any part of that nightmare so soon afterward…
His thoughts abruptly halted as Garrett walked into the office. Myles straightened in his chair as the big man strode to his desk and sat down, slapping a folder down on the wood surface. "It would appear, Agent Leland," he began without preamble, "that for someone who I thought was very clear on my expectations during this case, you certainly managed to get yourself center stage after all."
Garrett's expression was unreadable, and Myles tried to keep his voice steady. "Yes, sir, although that wasn't my intention."
"Then perhaps you'll enlighten me as to what exactly was your intention." Garrett purposely left him no time to think. "From the beginning, please. From the point at which I allowed you to walk out of here with your unit as they headed for Sketchbook. And I expect your characteristic attention to detail, if you don't mind." He reached behind his desk and flipped on a recorder that Myles had never seen used before.
"Yes, sir." Myles then quietly related the events of the previous afternoon, from his observation point, as precisely as he could remember. As if I could ever forget it. When he finished, Garrett allowed a long moment of silence.
Myles figured he may as well get all of it out; if he was going to hang, he would hang for who he was. "Sir, if there had been time enough to wait for Bobby to get there, I would have. I swear that to you. But there wasn't— if I had waited, Graham would have injected Eliz… Dr. Dillingham with the warfarin mixture. There is no antidote for it, certainly not one that could have been administered in time. She would have died."
"And your personal feelings never entered into it?"
The blond agent sighed. "That's not a fair question, Ted. Of course my personal feelings affected my actions. I went down into the tunnel in the first place because a teammate… a friend… needed backup. I ended up with his gun on Graham because I was protecting a victim. That said victim happens to be the woman I'm in love with… I cannot say whether that changed my motivation or not. But not once did I plan on revenge against Graham. As an FBI agent, I know that I am responsible for where every bullet I fire goes. The safety was locked on that gun because I didn't want even the temptation to be a question later. I was buying time for Agent Manning to get there. That's all."
"Quite an impassioned speech, Agent Leland." Garrett reached back and switched off the recorder. "One final question I have to ask, though… off the record."
"Yes, sir?"
"If Graham had decided to aim for, oh let's say, your head, instead of your chest which was covered in the body armor… then what?"
Myles sighed, but looked Garrett straight in the eye. "Then I guess you wouldn't have had to worry about the decision you're about to make. I admit it was a risk— but it would have been a bigger risk to do nothing."
"I see." The big man leaned back in his chair. "The Director is going to want a full report on this, but he left the decision up to me. From what you have just told me, and what your colleagues and Dr. Dillingham told me earlier, I think my report will be most detailed. The question now comes, what do I do with you?"
He stood up and walked around to the front of his desk, leaning against it with much the same expression he'd had when he'd chewed Myles out for the Nora Albright situation. "Agent Leland, you are suspended for the duration of a month. This incident will go in your record. You have five minutes, from the moment I dismiss you, to get down to that surveillance van and back up here with your sidearm, or that month will become six. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir." Myles started to rise from the chair, but Garrett's glare backed him down again. "Is there something else, sir?"
"Yes, Myles, there is." Garrett's expression softened. "The suspension is procedure in a case like this. If it were truly up to me, I'd have you back with your unit where you belong. You not only saved the life of a victim, you saved one of your teammates, twice since Jack would have undoubtedly been in a much graver condition if you hadn't been there to slow the bleeding of his wound. You showed a great deal more restraint in a critical and very personal situation than I truly had expected, and if there were any way a citation could apply here, I'd be handing it to you now." He placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder briefly. "See you in a month. After the aforementioned five minutes, of course."
Myles nodded and rose from the chair. "Yes, sir. I'll be right back. Thank you."
Garrett nodded. "Dimitrius should be about finished with Dr. Dillingham when you get back from the van. Use your month 'off' well."
A smile crossed the blond agent's face. "Yes, sir."
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"Suspended? For a month?"
Myles looked at her with deep affection. "It won't be so bad. It's not paid, but it won't break me. Besides, this way we both have some time to regroup a bit." He stroked her cheek. "And I think we need it."
Elizabeth nodded. "I agree, but it doesn't really seem fair. You risk your life for me, and you get in trouble for it."
He laughed softly. "It's procedure when an agent who has been taken off a case gets himself embroiled back into it. Believe me, it could have been a lot worse."
She reached up and kissed his cheek. "Well, since we have two hours still before my appointment with Dr. Sutherland, and you're currently unemployed, I guess I'm buying lunch. I'm only on sick leave."