Chapter 10: Survival Mode

Within fifteen minutes of taking the third dose of Theradin, Callen was out.

Hetty was thankful he was resting peacefully for the moment. But she couldn't help but worry about his current state of mind. She felt like they had gone back to square one – to the day they brought him to the hospital – scared and confused. Hetty knew to expect mood swings and memory lapses after a head injury. But this was different. Something was off.

Nurse Anna shared the same nagging feeling. The patient was either reacting negatively to the pain medication, or the injury to his brain was progressively getting worse. She would definitely have to stress this point to Landon when he came on duty.

At 5:20, Anna entered the room, followed by C.J. and two techs from radiology. Both techs, wearing navy scrubs, looked to be in their early twenties. The shorter of the two was red-headed, baby faced, and freckled. The other had dark brown hair that was slicked back with jell. He was about C.J.'s height, but much thinner. Anna held back a grin, thinking that it would take two of the slender young man to match C.J.'s muscular body build.

Hetty, attempting to stay out of their way, took a seat in the corner, on the far end of the vinyl couch.

Anna turned off the IV pump and disconnected the long IV tube from the short piece of tubing attached to the plastic needle still inserted in the back of Callen's hand. She secured the short tube and the needle with several strips of paper tape. Quickly scanning the multiple bruises and marks on her patient's arms, she added a couple extra strips of tape for good measure. She hated the thought of this man having to be stuck with another needle.

Anna turned, took the clipboard that the taller tech had been holding, and addressed Hetty. "There's no mention in Mr. Callen's medical history of metal plates, pins, or screws. And nothing showed up in his x-rays. But, because the MRI uses such a strong magnetic field, we are required to ask about metal implants and pacemakers."

Hetty shook her head. "No pacemaker. In all the times he's been patched up, I don't believe they have ever used pins or screws."

The nurse made a mark on the paper fastened to the clipboard. "Shrapnel?"

"It's likely that there are some bullet fragments here and there. But he had an MRI in May 2009 without incident."

"Good." Anna laid the clipboard on the table beside the bed. She lowered the bed rail and then stepped out of the way to allow room for the gurney that was being wheeled in by one of the techs.

C.J. took Anna's place next to the bed. He pulled the covers to below Callen's feet and then maneuvered the gurney up even with the side of the bed. He motioned, with his head, for the techs to approach the patient from the other side of the bed. After giving the young techs instructions on performing a "safe draw sheet transfer," Callen was moved to the gurney.

Hetty, carefully watching from the corner of the room, felt a tug at her heart. Her lead agent, who was known to be a light sleeper, ready to spring into action at any time, looked like a rag doll as he had just been effortlessly lifted and moved. Lying on the gurney dressed only in pajama pants and a loose fitting hospital gown, he seemed small and defenseless.

Anna moved the gurney away from the bed a couple of feet and worked her way into the space she had made. She pulled Callen's gown above his waist and lightly ran her fingers along the waistband of his pants. "No snaps. I think we're good to go." Anna replaced the gown in position. She covered Callen with a sheet and light blanket, tucking the excess material between the mattress and the metal frame.

Anna retrieved the clipboard from the table and handed it to the male nurse. "C.J., when it comes time to inject the contrast material, ask them to use the IV catheter that's already in place."

"Sure thing."

"And thank you for agreeing to go down with him."

"Not a problem. Oh... I'll have to turn my cell phone off before they start the MRI. So if you need me, you'll have to call the control room directly. Guys, what's that extension?" he asked, turning to the radiology techs.

"Fourteen, eighty-eight." The red-head responded.

Anna raised the rail on her side of the gurney and Callen was wheeled out of the room.

Hetty stood and stretched her arms out in front of her. "I believe I'll go down to the waiting area and get a bite to eat."

"Good idea. I'll ask someone to come and change out the sheets and clean the room while there's no one in here."

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Down in Radiology, Callen was transferred onto the movable imaging table by C.J. and the tall, brunette tech. Small padded devices were placed on either side of his head for stabilization and a wide Velcro strap was wrapped around his upper body, securing his chest and upper arms.

The red-headed tech rolled the gurney out of the room and carried the clipboard to the Radiographer, a medium build, dark-skinned man who was seated in the control room.

With the push of a button, the patient was slowly moved, head-first, into the cocoon of the imaging unit.

C.J. and the taller tech joined the other two in the control room and closed the door.

The Radiographer flipped on the closed-circuit TV camera so he could keep an eye on the patient from where he sat, and the imaging unit was activated.

After twenty minutes, the initial set of scans was completed and the table Callen was lying on was moved out of the cocoon.

The Radiographer rolled a small cart of supplies out into the imaging room and positioned it at Callen's right side. He was setting up to prepare for the next series of scans when he noticed C.J. was at his side. He reported to the tall nurse, "He hasn't moved a muscle. You said he hasn't been sedated?"

"No. Just pain medicine. But his primary nurse said it doesn't last all that long."

"Then it's a good thing we don't have to take the time to start an IV." The Radiographer cleaned the end of the tube in Callen's hand with an alcohol swab, picked up a syringe, and injected saline solution into the IV catheter.

"His nurse was hoping it would buy us a little time," C.J. said, handing a second syringe to the Radiographer. "She wasn't sure you would be able to find a good vein, as many times as they tried to start one in the ER."

Just as the contrast material was being injected into Callen's vein, one of the techs yelled from the control room. "C.J.! You just got a call from the floor! Something about a doctor needing the results of some lab work he ordered? Anna needs you to call her."

"Okay. Thanks!"

"Oh... and uh... I could hear the doctor in the background. He sounds pretty ticked off."

C.J. looked up at the Radiographer with a look of doom. "I need to take care of this." He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and held it up in the air. "This may take a while. I'll be right outside the door if you need me."

"Sure. We should have him out of here in about twenty minutes."

The male nurse stepped outside into the hall and turned on his cell phone. He had just punched in the number for the nurses' station when he saw the red light above the door light up, indicated the scans were about to continue. Anna answered the phone just as the noisy MRI unit started up again on the other side of the door. "Hey, Anna. So I'm in hot water with Dr. Turner, huh?"

"I guess you could say that. He's been tearing through Mrs. Hernandez's chart and can't find her lab results. I tried to bring it up on the computer but apparently we are still having technical issues. I called the lab and they said they already sent it up."

"They did. But the Currier delivered it to the wrong floor. Gail faxed it from the second floor and, unfortunately, I picked the papers up off the fax machine on my way down here. They're in my pocket. Sorry. I sure wasn't expecting Dr. Turner to make rounds this early on a Saturday."

"Well, he's going out of town for wedding. I don't think he's too happy with his wife about having to give up his golf day. He's grumpier than usual. He's in with Mr. Ward right now. If you have a way to get the papers out of the testing room, I'll send someone down to get them."

"Actually, I'm right outside the MRI room. There's a fax machine here in Radiology. Give me a minute and then call me back so I know you got it. It's two pages."

C.J. disconnected the call, practically sprinting off to the office, mind focused on getting the report to Anna.

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The Radiographer was intently studying the images he was receiving from the scan of Callen's head when he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and stared at the TV monitor beside him. There it was again: the patient flinched.

Then, all of the sudden, Callen's eyes opened wide. He had gone from sound asleep to full-blown panic in a matter of seconds. G began to wiggle as much as he could within the tube of the imaging unit. The machine was noisy and the space was so confining that his fear only intensified.

The Radiographer hit the emergency cut-off switch and shouted, "I'm shutting it down! Pull him out! Pull him out!" He activated the mechanism to move the bed out of the tube.

The taller tech darted from the control room to the scanning machine, finding the bed was moving out of the scanning tube. He positioned himself between Callen's left side and the wall and waited for the moving table to finish bringing the patient out. Even though Callen's upper body had not yet emerged, the young tech could see that he was frantically trying to get out of the tight space.

Callen bucked his lower body several times, attempting to free himself from whatever was holding his head and chest.

The table came to a stop. The patient was clearly in distress. His chest was heaving and he was fighting against the head restraint and the strap across his chest.

In an effort to calm the patient, the tech quickly removed the device that was stabilizing Callen's head.

But Callen did not calm down. His breathing became even more erratic. His eyes were taking in everything furiously and with an alarmed look. He reached up with his left hand and pulled on the strap that was wrapped around his upper body. Callen then scooted his body down, quickly squirming his way out from under the chest strap that was still fastened.

The brunette tech felt like he was in a bad dream. It was all happening so fast. The patient was trying to sit up. The tech reached toward the table and, with both hands, firmly grasped Callen's shoulders. He couldn't let this man fall off of this high table.

Before the tech had time to react, G swung at him with a right hook, punching him square in the nose.

The young man clutched his bloody face with his hands. Stunned, he stumbled backward and leaned against the wall.

With all his strength, and in one motion, Callen rolled his body to his right, swung his legs off the table, letting out a loud, guttural groan in the process. He slid from a semi-sitting position to standing on the floor. His right leg immediately collapsed beneath him and he tumbled forward. Not able to catch himself with his right arm, his forehead hit the tile floor with a sickening thud.

Callen, rolled to his left, the untied hospital gown slipping completely off his right arm. He shut his eyes tight from pain. Blood trickled down the side of his face from a fresh gash on his head. He began desperately trying to scoot toward the door.

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C.J. was approaching the door, finishing up his conversation with Nurse Anna, when he noticed the red light above the door was not illuminated. "Anna. I think something's wrong. The "test in progress" light is off and they shouldn't be already finished with the contrast scans."

With the phone still up to his ear, C.J. opened the MRI room door.

"C.J.?... What's wrong?... C.J.!"

C.J. could not believe his eyes.

Callen was on the floor, on his left side, with the red-headed tech in a headlock. The taller tech was trying to pull his coworker from the patient's grip. But his hands were slick with his own blood and kept slipping. "Oh, crap! I gotta go! We need a sedative. STAT!"

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Anna's hands began to shake. She hurried to the nearest nurses' aide. "Heather. There's a problem with one of the patients down in MRI. Go get Miss Lange from the waiting area and take her there as quickly as possible. Take the service elevator. I'll be right behind you."

Anna dashed to the medication room, hoping with all her heart that this was just a case of her patient waking up in the tight MRI cocoon and not knowing where he was. But she feared there was more – C.J. was clearly shaken.

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While Hetty, the aide, and Anna were making their way to the ground floor, Callen continued his fight to escape. And now, big, strong C.J. was in the mix.

C.J. had rushed into the room when he saw the chaos. He knew he had to get the tech out of the choke-hold... his face was turning red from lack of oxygen. But doing this without causing the patient more injury was going to be next to impossible.

C.J. was glad it was Callen's left forearm wrapped around the young man's neck because, unfortunately, he was about to have to inflict some pain. With his toes pointing toward Callen's head, the tall nurse quickly placed his feet on either side of the patient's hips. Careful to avoid the body of the tech caught in a death-grip, C.J. knelt down. Now, with his knees straddling G's waist, he laid his left palm on Callen's right shoulder and began applying downward pressure, forcing Callen to roll from his left side onto his back. With his right hand, he grabbed the patient's left thumb. Pinching down on the pressure point of Callen's hand, he painfully twisted his forearm, until Callen cried out and released the young red-head.

Callen grunted, straining against the large hands that were now gripping his forearms, pinning his hands down to the floor on either side of his head, in the surrender position. Callen could not see beyond the huge form hovering over him, but he could feel smaller hands restraining his legs. He drew up his left leg, and in one last act of desperation, he kicked as hard as he could, sending the Radiographer sailing backward.

C.J., left vulnerable now that no one was securing the patient's legs, extended his right leg back, and pressed his shin down on the patient's left hip.

Callen needed to escape! Breathing frantically, he twisted and strained but could not free himself!

Hetty entered the room just as Callen cried out in pain and frustration. The sound sent shivers down her spine. She quickly knelt down beside him, needing him to make eye contact with her, but knowing better than to touch him. Her agent was in survival mode; a drug-induced survival mode, at that. She was not even sure he would recognize her in this state.

"Mr. Callen!" Hetty called with authority.

Callen turned toward the familiar voice that had just shouted his name. His struggling against C.J.'s hold lessened and his frightened eyes locked into the face of the small woman next to him. "Hetty," He breathed out. "They found me," He said in Russian.

"Who found you, dear?"

Callen strained against C.J.'s grip and grimaced.

With the hospital gown hanging only on his left shoulder, Hetty could see the frantic rise and fall of Callen's bare chest. He was terrified of something.

Anna hurried into the room and knelt down at Callen's right side.

G looked up at the nurse. Anna also noted the rapid breathing and the fear in his eyes. Blood was smeared on his arms and torso and there was a new wound to his head. What had happened to her patient?

"Mr. Callen!" Hetty said again, sharply.

G turned his head and, once again, looked into her face.

"Mr. Callen. Who found you?"

Callen swallowed hard, catching his breath so that he could speak. "Bratva." (Brotherhood.)

Hetty could not help the confused sympathy that entered her gaze. "No, Mr. Callen. You are not in Moscow. You are home."

Callen strained to sit up, only causing C.J. to tighten his hold. "Pochemu vy… vrat'? Oni Zachvatili menya. Pozhaluysta, pomogite mne. Oni budut muchit' menya!" Why you… lie? They captured me. Please help me. They will torture me!)

Hetty shook her head. "No one is going to torture you. You are in a hospital. You're safe."

Callen suddenly gasped. His lips parted and his eyes grew even wider. Holding his breath, he slowly turned his head to the right till his eyes found the source of the strange sensation in his arm: The blonde woman, dressed like a nurse, was injecting something into his hand.

"No," he whispered, staring at the medicine being forced into his vein. He needed to escape but the drug was already taking away any fight he had left. He looked up at Anna. His mouth opened as if he was going to speak, but all that came out was a faint grunt.

Callen slowly turned and looked at Hetty. He shook his head. "Hetty," He said softly.

"Please, Mr. Callen. Just relax." Hetty stroked the left side of Callen's face. "Ty v bezopanosti." (You are safe.)

Callen's breathing was still strained, but his breaths were now at a slower rate. Still looking up at Hetty, his eyes began to blink heavily. "Hetty," He whispered. "Pochemu ty pomogayesh' im?" (Why are you helping them?)

Hetty felt like her insides had crumbled. She lowered her head. The look of betrayal in Callen's eyes was unbearable.

Callen went limp in C.J.'s grasp. He blinked two more times and closed his eyes.

The enemy had won.