Chapter Five
'Island' Medical Ward - 4/26/89 - 12:30am
Oscar refused to leave Jaime's side for the rest of the day and into the night. He listened to the long silence between each weak, labored breath, anxiously willing the next one to bring more life-giving oxygen to her depleted body. Often, he'd hold his own breath until she took another, each time fearing there would be no more.
He wondered what sort of help (if any) Steve was sending. Would he have Rudy call to consult or (God forbid) sent the doctor in person? Or would Steve recognize their captors as the terrorists they truly were, even though they operated within the auspices of the US government? OSI policy was strict and clear: no negotiation or cooperation of any kind with terrorists. Oscar only hoped that, if help was on the way, Jaime would live long to receive it.
The lights in the hallway had been off for several hours when the silence was shattered by the elevator's bell and the ruckus of at least half a dozen voices shouting at once.
"You can't come barging in here in the middle of the night!" Pratt yelled. "This is a government facility!"
"It's a government-sponsored torture chamber!" Steve? Oscar was sure he was hallucinating. This was far too risky for the OSI Director to attend to personally. "Formerly government-sponsored; you are done, closed, shut down - effective immediately. Now, where is she, Pratt?" It was Steve! Oscar bolted to the still-open doorway.
"Steve! She's in here!" Steve had come with his own small army: Jim, Russ, five or six lower-level (but very large) operatives...and Rudy. Rudy and Steve were at Jaime's side within seconds. She'd appeared very near death when Oscar had first seen her and had gone steadily downhill since then.
"God - no," Steve whispered. Rudy bent intently over the bed. "Is she...?" Steve couldn't bring himself to say the word 'dead'.
"She's alive," Rudy said urgently. "Barely." He called out into the hallway: "Where are the medics? I need that stretcher - NOW! Tessler, get me 2cc's adreneline." He grabbed the oxygen mask off the wall and placed it over Jaime's face. There was no reaction to either the oxygen or the adreneline, no change in the awful deathly color of her skin, which looked even worse in contrast with the normal flesh-tone of her arm and legs.
The medics arrived and Jaime was bundled onto the stretcher and wheeled into the Medivac chopper for the flight to a real hospital. Steve put a hand on Oscar's shoulder. "C'mon - you're leaving too. I'll drive you to the hospital, and I want you checked over as soon as we get there."
Oscar sighed with relief. "Take care of Jaime first."
Steve maneuvered his friend toward the door. "Plenty of doctors to go around. Let's get out of here."