Chapter 5
Flint jumped at the pager's alarm. He snatched it off his belt and looked at the message, his blood running cold. He looked at Suarez who stared at him, eyes unblinking.
The ICU had sent him an emergency page.
"What's happening?" he demanded.
"It's called an evolution, Flint. When timelines change, there can be unscheduled events."
He nearly leapt out of the chair, clutching the collar of her lab coat. "What is happening to her!"
If Suarez felt fear, she did not show it. "I don't know."
He yanked her out of the chair and pushed her toward the steps. "Get going," he ordered.
Suarez complied, not fighting him. Together they made their way toward the ICU. Flint found it difficult to control his anger as they walked at a brisk pace. He resisted the urge to physically push her down the halls, knowing it would have caused a scene and questions with the staff. Her cooperation was the only thing holding him back as they navigated through the morning hospital traffic.
On her own, she headed for the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time up to the ICU floor. Flint wanted to run ahead, but he had no intention of letting Suarez out of his sight. She obliged his anxiety by walking at his side, matching his hurried pace.
They reached the desk area. Flint looked into Jaye's room, only to find the bed gone, the monitors dark.
Joanne, the morning nurse, met them in the hall. "There's been a complication," she said before Flint even asked. "She may be bleeding internally again."
"How?" Flint asked, finding it difficult to give his voice volume.
"Doc thinks a piece of shrapnel may have nicked another part of the artery, weakening it. It's possible the tissue finally gave way. He has her in surgery right now."
"How bad is it?" he dared to ask.
Joanne gave a small frown. "It's very serious."
Flint felt as though the breath had left his lungs. "Thank you," he managed. When Joanne had left them, he turned to Suarez. "Follow me," he said low.
There was a small conference room down the hall he had seen earlier in his travels. He led her to it, checking first to make sure it was empty. He invited her inside and closed the door, resting his head on the frame.
In a whirl of anger and anguish, he turned and pinned Suarez to the wall. She gave an involuntary yelp as her back slammed against the drywall. He held his forearm tight across her shoulders, easily trapping her small frame.
"What did you do!" he exclaimed through clenched teeth.
"I told you, Flint – it's an evolution," she said, unwavering against his assault. "It's an unscheduled event in a new timeline."
"How did you know my pager was going to go off?" he asked, jabbing his arm against her in anger.
"It was close enough to the big splash. It's a known outcome."
"What happens to her?"
"I don't know."
"Don't lie to me!"
"I don't know!" she said adamantly.
"You did this!"
"There is a reason you survived, Flint. If you don't do something, this will have been worthless and she suffers for nothing."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that should be you in that bed, not her!" Suarez pushed back against the pressure of his arm. "If you'll get your arm out of my lungs, I'll explain this as best I can."
He really did not want to release her. There was something satisfying about jamming her into a wall until it hurt. He reluctantly let her go. She rubbed at her clavicle with her hand. He could see a red mark that was bound to leave a bruise on her skin.
She sat down at the conference table, waiting patiently until he did the same.
"You have one shot at this, lady, before I go ballistic on you," he warned, trying to bring his emotions under control.
Suarez took a few seconds to compose herself.
"We did mass permutations of outcomes," she said. "We tried to find the best chance of success to bring time back into alignment with the least cost down the road."
"This is considered the least damaging?" he asked, disbelieving.
"On the whole, yes. The best chance of taking away Cobra's capabilities rests with you. We ran the gamut of possibilities, using every member of this team as the lead. You kept coming up the winner. A simple nudge of a shot, and you're now in a position to fulfill destiny. Otherwise, you'd be the one in trouble right now."
He stood suddenly slammed his hands on the table, startling Suarez. "I ought to string you up, lady!"
"You could, but you won't. You need me, and if you're smart, you'll calm down and think this through. You owe her that much."
He stood there, seething at her. "You know what? You're right – I need you, and so does the rest of this team. But I can't stand the sight of you anymore." He reached over and grabbed her arm, hauling her up out of the chair.
"Don't do this, Flint," she warned.
He dragged her toward the door. "Shut up!" Flint ripped open the door with his free hand.
They nearly tumbled in the hall as she resisted his grip. Almost immediately, they had an audience as hospital staff watched the struggle. The more he pulled, the more Suarez fought him until she nearly broke away from his hold. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a call for security to respond to the confrontation.
Out of his periphery, he saw two military police officers approaching quickly. They aimed for him until Flint stopped them.
"I want her placed in custody, on the double," he ordered, maintaining his control on her arm. "Round the clock guard."
The two MPs glanced at one another, unsure of what to do. Finally, one of them followed the order, pulling out handcuffs and securing Suarez's hands behind her back. Flint heard the satisfying clicks of the cuffs being tightened around her wrists. She was led away down the hall at a much more docile pace than what he had started. She took the opportunity to look at him over her shoulder one last time before they boarded the elevator and headed for the brig.
Flint looked around the ICU, taking in the stares and the sheer gawking of the staff. He forced himself to calm down, slowing his breathing and restoring order in his mind and emotions. Still, the stares persisted.
He didn't have the time or patience to deal with it.
"As you were," he grumbled and left for the stairwell.
Taking the steps was helpful. He felt the anger draining off his senses as he stomped down them, although he felt going up would have been much more productive in bleeding off his ire. If he had not been on a mission to get to the command center, he might have considered doing just that at least once to recover control of his raging emotions. His thoughts replayed the entire scenario of the day. She had warned him not to disclose information to those in command, but she had left him with no choice. He would tell Hawk everything, because Flint was a good soldier, and good soldiers did not withhold vital tactical information from their commanding officers without good reason. Suarez, as far as he was concerned, hadn't provided him with one.
When he caught up with Hawk and the command team, he laid it all out for them. From the events on the mountain to the last twenty or so minutes in the ICU ward, he told them everything he knew. They were aware that Allison had taken a turn for the worse, but they could not believe the fact that Suarez was responsible until Flint showed them the evidence of the personnel files, the pager incident, and the radar information from the attack. He presented like an equation, one fact following another.
"Let's say for the sake of argument that you're right," Hawk said. "Let's say she is from another time. And I say that with a hell of a lot more than a grain of salt," he added. "Where does that leave us?"
Leatherneck pushed back in his chair. "I still have recon units in the area," he said. "I say let's confirm if she's telling the truth before we risk anyone else."
Hawk considered the marine's suggestion. "How long will it take to get them in eyeshot?"
"A day on foot, if you want it quiet."
Flint rubbed at tired eyes. "What about wreckage from the surveillance site? Any evidence of the Strikers Bill and I saw?"
"I don't think they were looking that closely," Leatherneck said. "We have other recovery units on the way up there since we didn't see hide nor hair of Cobra. Looks like they bugged out right after the attack. We'll have them pick through what they find and see if there's any munitions evidence."
Bill sucked on a toothpick, rolling it between his teeth. "With our luck, those Strikers were using ghost missiles and you won't find anything. Then you'll be locking me and Flint up for sure and shrinking our brains."
Hawk turned to Mainframe. "Pull all intelligence data you can find on this. Call in any marker you see fit. I want to know what we're dealing with."
Mainframe grimaced. "I hate dealing with spooks."
The general spoke to Scarlett last. "I want you to take a crack at Suarez – or whoever she is. See what you can get out of her."
"I'll do my best," Scarlett assured. "I assume you'll be in the audience."
Hawk nodded. "I'll have her brought to the interrogation room. I want you to be diplomatic, but press her if you have to for answers."
"You got it."
They adjourned, with Flint leading Hawk, Duke and Scarlett to the interrogation area. Flint looked through the large one-way glass into the bright room. Suarez sat there, hands cuffed in front of her, looking angry more than anything else. She showed no fear, as though the whole affair was nothing more than a huge inconvenience.
Scarlett entered the room and sat down across from Suarez. Hawk turned on the speaker so the observers could hear the exchange.
Suarez began the conversation. "You're wasting time."
"I am?"
The doctor laced her fingers together, balancing her wrists on the cuffs. "I'm sure Flint has given you the story up to this point – which I specifically asked he not do."
"Yes, he has."
"Then you know there's not a lot of time to act on what I've told you."
Scarlett was smooth in her demeanor, speaking in even tones. "No offense, but you've hardly provided us with any reasons to believe you."
"What's the matter – your trust in Flint is that low?"
"Not at all. It's that we don't commit to an operation without some significant information. We don't put ourselves in harm's way until we're sure it's worth it."
"You've seen the satellite images. You know it's there."
"We know something is there. There's no telling what it is, nor is there any proof that it's a Cobra installation."
"If you send those recon units there, you'll find out just how much of a base it really is."
Flint could not see Scarlett's face, but he could tell by the minute tension that formed in her back that it unnerved her to hear Suarez revealing classified information.
"What recon units?"
"I'm not much into games. So, let's not play around. If you don't tell those units to fall back, you're going to have more than four casualties on your hands. It will be a bloodbath, and I won't be held responsible."
Scarlett opened the file folder in front of her, looking over the hasty report that had been compiled based on Flint's information. She turned over a few pages until she came to the synopsis of events.
She looked up at Suarez. "How about we try something simple. What's your first name?"
"Nancy."
At least they were getting some new information, Flint thought.
"Are you actually a medical doctor?"
"I have several doctorates, as a matter of fact. One of them happens to be in medical studies."
"And the others?"
"Quantum physics and electrical engineering. Good enough?"
"No, but we're just getting started," Scarlett said. "So, all this here must seem pretty primitive to you, if you are from where you say."
Suarez shook her head. "You don't have time for this biography lesson. You are so clueless we had to come back and give you a second chance."
"Who is 'we'?" Scarlett asked, reiterating Flint's earlier question.
"It's in the report, I'm sure," Suarez obliged. "I can't tell you, and you already know all you need to know."
"What is your unit designation?"
Suarez seemed to be weighing options in her mind. At last, she said, "We're called a Cyclops unit, a concentrated eye on time and space."
"In what year do you exist?"
"Classified."
"What organization oversees your operations?"
"Classified." Suarez laid her palms flat on the table. "Look, we could do this all day and I still won't be able to give you the answers you want."
"What about Lady Jaye? What happens to her?"
Suarez turned her hands upward in an 'I don't know' manner. "Your guess is as good as mine."
"I don't believe that," Scarlett countered. "I think you know exactly what happens."
"Up to you, but I'm telling you the truth. The timeline has changed for Flint's benefit. It's entirely possible there will be collateral damage with the action. Her fate rests in Doc's hands, not mine. For all I know at this point, if he sneezes before entering surgery, it could change the timeline for better or worse."
"Explain."
"Butterfly effect, chaos theory – all the classics. We set the big stuff in motion, but the little things happen on their own. It's impossible for us to predict to the smallest detail what will happen further out from the big splash. Our concern was putting Flint's destiny in motion and not on preserving others."
"You've nearly killed one of our own. That doesn't bother you?"
"No, what bothers me is what happens in the future if you don't take the chance you've been given."
"Classified, right?" Scarlett asked, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice.
Suarez cocked her eyebrows in affirmation.
"So, what is it that Flint is supposed to do exactly?"
"He already knows, and judging from what I can see in that folder, so do you. But I will tell you this – you don't get in there without me."
"I don't think Command will entertain that idea. In case you haven't noticed, there's a slight trust issue that's come up in the last twenty-four hours."
"I have not lied to you in any way. I have answered every question asked to the best of my ability given the constraints of my own mission. I will continue being truthful with you, but you may not like what you hear, and I'm more than certain you won't like the limited information I can give you."
Scarlett agreed. "I would say the odds of that are pretty good."
"Where the odds are against you is in getting into Cobra's installation. I can get you inside to get the job done."
Scarlett had been given carte blanche permission to interrogate Suarez, Flint knew, and she ran with the opportunity.
"What kind of op are we talking?" the Joe pilot asked.
"I want a guarantee first that I will be on the infiltration team. Then I'll give you the details," Suarez bargained.
Scarlett craned her neck, easing tense muscles. "I'll have to speak to my superiors about that."
"Better talk fast. The clock is ticking. Get back to me when you have an answer."
Suarez sat back, looking defiant and unwilling to answer any more questions. Scarlett gave her a moment to reconsider but gave up hope when Suarez remained stoically silent.
The door to the interrogation room opened and Scarlett stepped over the threshold.
""Well?" she asked, looking to Hawk for guidance.
"I don't like this one bit," he answered, walking over to the observation window, looking in on Suarez.
He stood there for a moment. The decision was Hawk's, Flint knew. Hawk was the commanding officer of the team, and he had ultimate say over operations. Flint did not envy the choices the man had to make on a daily basis, and he certainly did not envy the general's dilemma at that moment.
The heavy silence in the room only added to the tension and stress Flint felt.
Finally, Hawk spoke.
"Get her into a briefing."