Author's Note: I'm going to try to finish writing this story before tackling the rest of Arrhythmia. Although that may be put on hold for bit because of another project I committed myself to which has a deadline less than 3 months away (and I haven't even started yet! Yikes!).
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Happy's muffled curse barely registered as Walter stared at the sight of his shovel buried deep within the rusted canister. Sweat beaded on his brow as his breathing grew shallow. His instincts told him to run but the connection between his brain and his body must have short circuited because his feet remained rooted to the ground.
"What happened?" Cabe's anxious voice penetrated the fog settling over him. Tearing his gaze away, Walter saw the agent about to remove his gas mask, snapping him out of his stupor.
"No!" he shouted. "Leave it on! Stay back!" he added as Toby dropped his shovel and rushed toward him.
The behaviorist stopped in his tracks. "What the hell did you do, 197?"
"I breached a container."
"Oh, God, Walter." His gut churned as he heard the terror in Paige's voice through his comm.
"Oh, sh. . . Happy, get the hell away from there!" the shrink yelled. The mechanic's immediate compliance surprised Walter as she dropped her shovel and ran toward the doc.
"Walter!" He looked up to see Cabe signaling with his hand. "Come on! We need to get out of here now, son."
He knew the older man was right. He needed to run. Get as far away as possible. But he couldn't. Not until he fixed what he'd done. Bending over, he reached for Happy's discarded shovel.
"Walter!" Three panicked voices rang out but he ignored them. He scooped up what loose soil he could, tossing it on top of the ruptured canister.
Hands gripped his upper arms, forcing him to drop the shovel. Shaking them off, he glimpsed Cabe and Werhan standing on either side. "Dammit, Walter, we gotta go," growled the agent.
As they ran toward the truck, Toby jogged up next to Walter. "What was it?" he yelled.
"I. . .I don't know." Even though it had consumed his entire focus for approximately two minutes, he had no idea.
"Mustard gas," Werhan said as they reached the vehicle. "I recognized the markings."
"Not good." Happy glanced worriedly from Walter to the shrink.
"Mustard gas isn't really a gas," stated Sly in a somewhat overexcited tone. "It's a misnomer. Sulfur mustard isn't vaporized. It's dispersed in a fine mist of liquid droplets. Symptoms don't appear right away but normally occur within twenty-four hours." He paused to take a breath. "Your lungs shouldn't be affected since you were wearing gas masks but any exposed skin is at risk and it can easily penetrate clothing. . ."
"Oh, shit," said Toby. Walter glanced around at the others, who were all clad in long sleeved shirts and jackets.
"What? What's wrong?" Paige's hysterical voice filled his ear.
Cabe answered her frantic question. "Walter's sleeves are rolled up."
Walter stared at his bare forearms, half expecting large painful boils to develop right before his eyes.
"Is there any chlorine beach on the truck?" asked the shrink.
Sawyer shook his head. "There are decontamination showers back at the base."
"Then what the hell are we doing standing around?" Toby tried to pick up Happy, presumably to put her in the back of the transport but she struggled out of his embrace.
"Let me drive," she demanded. "I can get us there faster."
"Do you know where the command station is?" asked Werhan.
Obviously she didn't as she growled before hoisting herself into the truck. The two soldiers jumped into the cab as rest of Team Scorpion followed the mechanic.
"We need to take off our clothes," Toby declared as the vehicle rumbled down the bumpy dirt road. He began to kick off his shoes then reach for his belt.
"What the hell for?" asked Cabe.
"You heard Sly," the psychiatrist replied. "The chemical can eat right through them. So strip down. Especially you, Walter. You're probably covered in the stuff."
Happy punched his arm. "I'm not undressing in front of everyone, you perv."
"Neither am I." Walter shuddered at the thought. Only one person had seen him naked since he was four years old, when he had told his parents he could bathe himself.
"At least take off your outer layer," said Toby as Gallo started disrobing. "The longer the sulfur mustard is against your skin, the better the chance of it burning you."
"Fine." Walter glanced over at Happy, who glared at him as she tugged off her jacket. Turning his head, he unbuttoned his shirt and removed it.
Without warning, tepid water drenched his arms along with his undershirt and boxers. "What the. . ." Looking up, he saw a naked Toby standing over him, holding an upside down canteen.
"It's not bleach but better than nothing," said the doc, shaking out drops of water onto him.
"Dammit, Toby." Walter averted his gaze as the truck hit a rut and the behaviorist lurched toward him. Sliding to his left, he barely missed having the shrink land on top of him. Instead, Toby slammed face first against the side of the vehicle.
"Oh, my mentula," he moaned as he crouched down in obvious agony.
"Sit down and shut up," snarled Happy. "And take off that stupid hat."
"What? Why?" Toby gently eased his bare bottom onto the bench beside her, his hands covering his groin.
"It's probably contaminated too."
"You don't know that."
"Listen, dumbass," she said menacingly. "One, I'm sitting here in my skivvies. Two, you look like a complete idiot. And three, the chemical could be eating its way into your brain, which, right now, I'd be totally fine with. Lose the hat already."
The shrink shook his head. "No."
"Yes."
"Noooo. . ." Walter watched as the fedora Frisbeed past him, flew over the tailgate and landed on top of some sagebrush.
"My hat!"
"Will you two knock it off?" growled Cabe.
"I already did," Happy said smugly.
The Homeland agent glared at her, wiping the smile from her face. They rode in silence for the rest of the trip with only an occasional whimper from the psychiatrist. A cluster of four prefabbed buildings finally came into view after they'd jostled and jolted for what seemed like hours.
Sawyer and Werhan jumped out of the truck as soon as it came to a halt in front of one of the structures. Walter noticed both men had taken off their shirts sometime during the journey. "The decontamination showers are this way," Werhan said, pointing to a smaller building. "Come on."
Once inside, there were three open shower stalls. Each were rigged with a tank of DS2 solution, a mixture of diethylenetriamine, 2-methoxyethanol, and sodium hydroxide. There was also a definite lack of privacy for six people, one of whom was a female.
"Happy, you go first," Walter suggested, the fact she was pregnant weighing heavily on his mind. If something happened to her and Toby's baby, it would be all his fault. "We'll all wait outside."
"You had the most exposure, 197," said Toby. "You need to go first."
"I said she goes first. Go ahead, Happy."
She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm with the doc. Get your ass in there, moron."
"Walter. . ." He could hear the worry in Paige's voice over the comm.
"I'm okay," he said. "Dammit, Happy, just go take a shower."
"Fine." She stomped over to one of the stalls. "Since you've already seen me naked, you might as well stay too," she said ungraciously to Toby.
"There's extra clothing in the lockers," Werhan said over his shoulder as the rest of the men headed out the door.
Forty minutes later, they had all been neutralized and dressed in the sweats and boots they found in the lockers. Happy's were several sizes too large and she was none too happy about it.
"What the hell is going on?" Holbrook's bellowed question stopped them in their tracks as they were heading back to the truck. He came striding toward them with a furious expression.
"We found a cache of canisters. . ." Walter started to explain but the captain cut him off.
"You didn't need to come all the way back here to report your findings."
"We didn't," stated Walter. "A container of the sulfur mustard was breached. We were wearing gas masks but were otherwise exposed. . ."
The officer interrupted him again. "Have you scanned all fifteen sites?"
"No. We were only a little over half way when. . ."
"Then get back out there and finish."
Walter stared at Holbrook in disbelief, wondering how he could be so dismissive of their situation. Didn't he have any idea of the damage the chemical weapons could cause? "We were exposed to sulfur mustard," he reiterated through tight lips.
The captain shrugged. "You knew the risks when you accepted this assignment."
"We weren't given much of a choice," Walter shot back. "We're not going back out there. We're going back to Los Angeles."
His disdain plain on his face, Holbrook glared at each one of them. "If you don't complete scanning the rest of the sites, I will be forced to inform Homeland of your insubordination."
"Oh, crap," Toby muttered as he glanced over at Walter. "Aren't you still on probation? Oh, wait, the six months was up in August," he remarked, answering his own question.
"What if we leave the equipment here?" Cabe proposed. "Sawyer and Werhan here should be able to operate it. They observed how it worked and. . ."
"That hunk of garbage?" sneered Holbrook. "It's probably the reason you were stupid enough to expose yourselves to the chemicals."
"Hey." Happy stepped up to the officer. "That 'hunk of garbage' is a highly sophisticated piece of technology. It's not our fault if you're too stupid to comprehend that."
Walter thought for a moment the captain was going to strike the mechanic. And judging by the way her hands were curled into fists, she was going to hit him back. Moving up behind, he pulled her away, knowing he was risking her turning her anger on him. She shook off his hand and gave him a dirty look.
"We're going home," he said again. "Come on, team." He turned and headed toward the truck.
"I'm going to report you." Holbrook called after him.
"What an idiot," Happy said as she climbed into the driver's side of the cab.
"He's not kidding." Cabe looked worriedly at Walter as they clambered into the back seat. "Homeland could cut Scorpion's funding because of this."
"So you think we should have stayed?"
"Hell, no. We shouldn't have been out there in the first place," Toby said before the agent could say anything. "We're not chemical weapons experts." He handed each of them a phone and a wallet. "Scavenged these from your clothes. Hope you weren't fond of them because they're being incinerated as we speak."
Walter wondered why the psychiatrist would think anyone would be attached to a shirt and a pair of slacks. With a shrug, he speed dialed the garage.
"Oh, God, Walter," Paige said when she answered. "Is everyone okay?"
"Yes. I'm sorry I didn't contact you sooner," he said. "We had to ditch our comms." He explained to her they'd all been decontaminated and about the tussle with Holbrook and his threats. "We should be back in a few hours."
"Are you sure? You don't want to get in trouble again," she said.
"I'm positive. I'm not endangering everyone because of some military personnel's incompetence fifty years ago. I knew we shouldn't have taken this assignment. It was too risky and I'm too far away from you. I know we discussed it earlier but unless it's a life or death situation, I'm not going to take anymore out of town cases."
"Maybe that's for the best," she said with a sigh. "I didn't like you being so far away either." The connection was silent for a moment.
"Is everything okay?" He knew she found his over protectiveness irritating. But he wasn't going to stop until the baby was born and probably not even then.
"Yeah, just a little tired," she replied. "We ordered stuff for the party from Kovelsky's. Sylvester's heading out to his interview. I think I'm going to take a nap once he leaves."
Walter had forgot all about the party. Pulling up his sweatshirt sleeves, he scrutinized his forearms. There were no signs he'd been sprayed by the sulfur mustard. . .yet. Celebrating his citizenship would be the last thing on his mind if he was in agonizing pain from being doused with the chemical weapon.
"You should definitely take it easy," he told her.
"Oh, I plan to," she replied. "Just hurry home, okay? I love you."
"Okay. Love you, too."
He ended the call, clutching the phone in one hand as he rubbed his face with the other. It had already been a hell of a day and it was barely two in the afternoon. Hopefully the worst was over and he could look forward to a pleasant evening with his family.
The truck hit a rut, bouncing him up in the air where he nearly hit his head on the vehicle's ceiling.
ooooo
"Sylvester, you really need to go," Paige said as she replaced the desk phone's receiver. "You don't want to be late."
"No, I don't," he replied. "But I also don't want you leave you by yourself."
"I'm just going to be taking a nap. I'll be fine." Paige chuckled. "Between you and Walter, I don't know which one of you is the biggest worrywart."
"We just care about you," said Sly. "If you're sure. . ." She could tell he was still torn about leaving her alone. She opened her mouth to tell him to go when the garage door was flung open and a teenage girl strode inside.
"Mr Dodd, we were supposed to meet five minutes ago." she announced stridently before turning to Paige with a polite smile on her face. "Hi, I'm Patty Logan, reporter for the West Altadenia Shopper."
Paige blinked at the girl's sudden change in demeanor. "Paige Dineen," she introduced herself. "Sly was just about to leave."
"Maybe we could stay here?" the human calculator suggested. "I could. . ."
"No way," said Patty. "We're going to Kovelsky's. I've saved up 478 calories today and I am getting a chocolate shake. Come on, I have a schedule to keep."
The glance Sly tossed Paige reeked of desperation and she had to suppress a giggle. "Go on," she urged. "I'll be fine."
She clumsily got to her feet as Sylvester and Patty left the garage, heading to the ground floor bathroom, knowing she'd never make it the one upstairs. The baby seemed to have shifted lower, right on top of her bladder.
As she washed her hands, Paige heard the garage door creak open. "Did you forget something, Sylvester?" she called out. Absently rubbing her back, she waddled out onto the workroom floor which appeared to be empty. Then she caught a glimpse of something as it stepped out of the shadows near Happy's workbench.
"Oh, God. You."