Merry December! Favorite time of the year for more reasons then there are snowflakes. My love and thoughts to all you faithful readers. Your reviews and encouragement inspire each new chapter.
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Grady had removed himself from their radio chatter. Aldovich couldn't believe the man's stupidity. Yet, he'd expected it. Some men were fit to be tied and others could never be tied down. In which case, they were shot, or otherwise disposed of.
"Mr. Gavrill," Aldovich respected his boss' harsh words over the phone. "I understand. I'll get to the bottom of it."
He hung up, freeing the hand that wasn't driving. He placed it in his breast pocket; then picked out the gun at his hip. "The embryos were not there."
His passenger started. "You tried to steal them!"
Aldovich shrugged, readying his gun with ease. "An insurance policy, nothing more."
The passenger blinked rapidly, trying to think; watching the gun the whole time. "I-I have them. I pulled them out of InGen last night." The uncertainty hardened to annoyance. "A part of me feared Gavrill would have you... this is what happens when people don't coordinate!"
Doesn't give me cause not to shoot you. Aldovich rubbed his finger on the trigger. "We felt it was necessary."
"You felt you couldn't trust me. After all the intel I've provided, the deal I've set up!"
"You think that owes you a free pass?" Aldovich chuckled as he watched the road.
"Don't threaten me in the wake of your own impulses! Owen Grady's involvement was only a means of cornering his raptor. He don't need him drawing attention... or connections."
"Kolov," Aldovich took a moment to speak into his comm. "You and Terry cut your losses and return to your main objective."
"Understood." Terry answered. Kolov grunted. "Grady is a dead man."
He left it at that, switching the comm off. "If this is slipping out your grasp, Mr. Gavrill would be happy to take over."
The eyes of his passenger narrowed in anger and determination. "I have worked too long and too hard for this. You're sending them after the velociraptor, but she's just the tip of the iceberg. Mr. Gavrill allows me to dig deeper and he will not be disappointed."
He had orders to keep Dr. Wu's presence secret. A possible back-up, should this whole thing go south. He also had orders not to shoot just yet. Still, Aldovich didn't lower the gun. He wanted his passenger to squirm under its nearness and recognize its reality. They were trying to hide the uneasiness through a squared jaw. "Shoot then. See how far you get."
Daring, even with the corner they were backed into. Aldovich lowered his gun, returning it to the holster. This was a two man plan; excessive, but necessary if they wanted nothing traced. Like it or not, he had to endure the company a little longer. "Just remember. My boss determines when your value runs out."
His passenger moved past that with a frustrated huff. "Just hope that your team hasn't cost us everything."
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Claire paced the linoleum, heart thumping over any noise that passed by the waiting room. It was up the hall from the actual emergency room, where she'd been forced to wait. Wait and worry. A nurse had taken her information while doctors had wheeled Maisie into a room. She had still been flushed, still been shivering... and that was the image playing over in Claire's head. Doctors went back and forth, nurses pushed patients by in wheelchairs... NONE of them coming in to tell her about Maisie! She had left once, changing into the jeans and shirt she'd grabbed before rushing to the hospital. Other then that, nothing. Nothing she could say, nothing she could-
This isn't what I do! Claire stood, walked to a wall, and leaned against it. She tried concentrating on holding her brain together. I fix problems! I don't wait for someone else to!
Only, she couldn't fix this. That was the most terrifying. Even with the DPG, while her goals had changed, her work ethic hadn't. Claire rammed in, horns first and always came out with what she wanted. But none of that initiative was going to help here. Claire pulled her phone out of her jacket again; still nothing from Owen. WHERE was he? The waiting was bad enough, but having to wait alone... Claire hit her speed dialed, holding her breath. It rang and rang, spooking her with the belief that no one would pick up.
"Claire!" her sister's voice answered brightly. "About time you checked in! How's Carson City?"
Claire shook her head. "How do you do it, Karen?"
Karen gave a stunned pause. "Sorry, what?"
The tears of Claire's helplessness broke from under her eyelids. "Whenever the boys... when they get sick or hurt, what do you do to get through? To convince yourself you've done nothing wrong?"
More silence. Claire could just see her gaping. "Is... is this about that girl in your wedding photos?"
Claire lowered her head into her hand, hiding the tears. "We're adopting her, Karen. But it hasn't even been a week and she's sick. We're in an emergency room and... and I don't know what to do."
Karen released a laugh. "Sis, you had me worried there for a second."
Claire blinked. "Karen! We're in an emergency room!"
"You're nowhere that hundreds of parents haven't been before." Karen said, her voice oddly calm. "I know that sounds callous, but it's true. It's part of parenthood and there's... I guess there's a line you adapt to walking on. A line between worry and trust. Worry about what the world might try to do to your kid, and trust that you've taught them the right stuff to get through it."
"But-"
"Claire," Karen stopped her. "Breathe. That's the Number One in parenting."
Claire mopped at her cheeks, shaking with another breath. She pulled in a second, then a third. Her chest didn't ease in its tension, but her brain stopped its spinning. Enough to remind her that she didn't breakdown. "You're really good at this, sis."
Karen snorted. "Trust me, I made it up as I went. Now, what do you know?"
"She was... sweating, but cold." Claire laid the facts out, her voice calmer with each one. "Flushed face, her eyes weren't focusing..."
Another call pinged in. It was Dr. Inger. She was surprised it had taken anyone from the conference this long to call her. "Karen- a really important distraction just came up."
"Take it." Karen understood as Claire hung up. She rolled her shoulders, putting her best tone forward. "Dr. Inger."
"Mrs. Grady." Dr. Inger spoke up eagerly. "I hope I'm not interrupting. You ended the meeting so abruptly-"
Claire nodded, eyeing the window. "Yes, I apologize. A... family member fell ill. I'm at the hospital right now."
"In Nevada?" Dr. Inger asked, puzzled.
"My sister's family." Claire swallowed, not bothering to flush the lie out. Thankfully, she didn't press.
"I'll be brief then." Dr. Inger hurried. "I was wanting the chance to speak to you, regarding your personal thoughts on the merger."
The farthest thing from my mind. Claire held off a groan. She pulled the clip from her hair, like it might relieve some of the pressure. "It's not just my answer to consider, Dr. Inger. It's those of my employees and our group's investors."
"Of which my division is one of them." Dr. Inger's voice was stressing now. "Please, Mrs. Grady, hear me out. Professionally, InGen is a diverse company, dedicated to sound and viable research for the past 40 years. Unprofessionally, it is a collection of people who saw an idea for the future and decided to a take a chance on it. I'm not about to let that entire company lost its standing because of- an 'outbreak' as it were.'
'The fault doesn't lie with the technology for the rebirth of dinosaurs," Dr. Inger emphasized. "Rather, the people who were in charge of it. This is why I thought of you and your group when Senator Sherwood and I brought this idea to the table-"
Claire let her ramble on with her pitch, unable- uninterested- in interjecting. It was the same chance for her to return to the corporate frontlines. Decisions, meetings, ultimatums... control. Jurassic World had redefined that word for it, but hadn't changed its appeal. Was this a shot at redemption? Or an old habit she could so easily fall back into? Claire wished that was the only thing to worry about right now.
"The potential of this opportunity is not lost on me, Dr. Inger." Claire finally entered the dialogue. "And it would be more then we could've imagined for the DPG." She looked at the ceiling, glaring off with the fluorescent lights. "It will effect a lot of people in a completely new way. And we need to be sure that we can positively add to that. No decisions can be reached over a video conference."
"I understand." Dr. Inger's voice maintained its eagerness. "But it needs to move forward. No matter what."
So true.
"Miss Dearing."
Claire's head snapped to the door and she saw a black-haired, stocky pediatrician in the threshold. "Dr. Inger; please forgive me, but I need to go."
She didn't wait for Dr. Inger's response, cutting the call and crossing to the doctor. He nodded at her, chart between them. "I'm Dr. Lewis. I just came from your daughter's room-"
"How is she?" Claire about burst. "What's wrong?"
Dr. Lewis sucked on his lower lip before answering. "We managed to bring her fever down. I was waiting for the results of her blood work."
Claire's heart missed a beat as Dr. Lewis stepped fully into the room. "I realize your mind has been playing the worst, but it's really straight forward. It is... odd, however."
Claire was ready to shake Maisie's diagnosis out of him!
"In a child of Maisie's age," Dr. Lewis paused, looking Claire over- with suspicion? "In laments terms, she caught the common cold, yet it hit her three times over. The rapid way it attacked her body caused me to look at her red cell count. I found it to be low. Very low. Given, that I have none of her medical history-"
"She's always been susceptible to germs." Claire hastened to say something. "My- my husband and I were told her count would increase with time."
"Your husband?" Dr. Lewis looked back at the chart. Claire rubbed her temple. "My insurance doesn't recognize me as Mrs. Grady yet. I married... last week."
Was there a way to not make that sound reckless?! Claire tried to save whatever face she was losing. Dr. Lewis clearly wanted to ask more, but stayed professional. "Her immune system is nearly nonexistent, Mrs. Grady. Again, highly unusual for a ten-year-old. When she was growing up, how often was she sick?"
That was a question Claire had never thought of. What was Maisie's medical history? Hd it ever been documented, or swept under the rug along with everything else? It was something only Iris could answer. Claire had left a message on her way to the hospital, but hadn't heard back.
Dr. Lewis nodded, but kept a furrowed brow. "On top of keeping her fever down, Maisie is running the risk of a bacterial infection and we'd like to keep her for observation. With your permission, we'll start her on an IV of ampicillin."
"Absolutely." Claire nodded. "Whatever you feel is best."
"We can release her when her fever goes down." Dr. Lewis continued, turning the chart over for her to sign. "With proper rest and fluid intake, she should be up and about within the week."
Every tendon within Claire finally relaxed. "Can I see her?"
Dr. Lewis took her a few doors down the hall, into a circus-themed children's room. A window let in the afternoon sun through sheer curtains. The rays hit the bed of another girl- twelve or so- in the room. She was sitting up, thin and pale with brown hair, a couple IVs up her arm. Claire overlooked her, only able to focus on Maisie's bed, closest to the door. She was sleeping... so still, and cheeks still so flushed. Her blankets were turned down, yet tucked in around her sides. Why did that make her seem so frail?
"I will get that IV authorized." Dr. Lewis excused himself. "There will be some papers at the nurse's station for you to sign."
Claire nodded, standing, frozen at the foot of Maisie's bed. It suddenly seemed like Maisie was made of sawdust. A single touch might cause her to collapse. Taking Karen's advise, Claire breathed. She then reached out, tapped Maisie's wrist. Maisie stirred, eyes fluttering open. They were still fairly dazed. "M...Mum?"
Great, she was going to cry again! Claire made her lips smile, squeezing Maisie's hand. "Hey. You weren't feeling too good, so we're at the hospital, getting you checked out. The doctors will give you some medicine to make you feel better."
Maisie blinked, first at her monitor, then at the ceiling. As though she was connecting Claire's words to her surroundings. She swallowed- it sounded dry. "When... when can we go home?"
"Soon." Claire told her, squeezing her pale arm. It was warm, yet veiny. She spied a cup and pitcher atop the stand and quickly filled it. Maisie managed a few sips before falling back onto her pillows. Claire put the cup within reach, on her tray. "I've gotta go sign some papers. You sleep, ok."
Maisie's eyes were already closed as she nodded. Claire reached the hallway and bent forward, giving herself a minute before heading to the nurse's station. She was given the forms necessary to provide Maisie with the IV and other perceptions. Dr. Lewis returned to say Maisie's temperature was down to a hundred. They'd keep her until tomorrow to ensure that her fever stayed down. Claire debated going to get the prescription now or when Maisie was released.
That was when her cell rang. She didn't recognize the number; even so, her gut answered for her. "Owen!"