Chapter 15

"Hey, Don," Charlie said as Don entered. His voice was stronger, and he was beginning to get his color back.

"Hey, Buddy! You're looking good! You feeling better?"

"Yeah, I am. All those antibiotics must finally be working." He reached for the control and raised the head of his bed slightly. "That's better." He reached for his cup and sipped some ice water. He grimaced and rubbed his belly. "Still sore," he murmured.

"Well," Alan said, "you can't expect to be a hundred percent instantly."

"I know, Dad," Charlie said. "So, Don, is everything going well back home?" At Don's confused glance, Charlie added, "Dad said you got a phone call. I assume it was work."

"It was Colby. He had some information for me. And, by the way, he said I should tell the Whiz Kid they're thinking of him."

"Whiz Kid," Charlie chuckled. "When you talk to him, tell him the Whiz Kid said thanks."

Don sat down and looked at his hands for a moment before speaking. "Yeah, I will. Hey, Charlie, Dr. House wants to do some more tests, and he wants you to sign a consent form for an experimental treatment."

"Why?" Larry asked. "Charles is obviously recovering. Why does he need an experimental treatment?"

Don sighed. "House is assuming that this thing was genetically altered, and if it is, there's a chance the bacteria will mutate into resistant forms before they get a chance to kill them all."

"Mutate?" Charlie said, growing pale. "And if that happens?"

"You'll start getting sick again," Don said, looking away from Charlie's gaze.

Charlie closed his eyes and leaned back against his pillow. "God, Don."

"Donnie," Alan snapped, "your brother is finally starting to feel better and you bring this to him? What are you thinking?"

"Dad," Don said, "House is afraid that if this does happen – and there's no way he's sure it will happen – Charlie'll get sick so fast he won't be able to sign a consent for the experimental treatment. Dr. Cameron will be here in a few minutes. She can explain all the details." He put his hand on Charlie's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Buddy."

Charlie shook his head, his eyes still closed, "No, it's okay, Don. I needed to know this." He opened his eyes and looked at Don. "But there's a chance it won't happen, right? I could just keep getting better and be back to normal soon, right?"

"Yeah. In fact, that's what's gonna happen. I'm sure."

Charlie smiled and grasped Don's hand. "Promise?" He grinned when Don hesitated. "At least I know you're telling me the truth."

Don laughed, ruffling Charlie's hair. "The bad news is they're gonna do another colonoscopy today too."

Charlie shrugged. "I don't remember the first one, so I don't mind."

Alan grimaced. "I hope you don't remember this one either, son of mine. It's no fun."

"Great," Charlie muttered. "I was looking forward to having fun on this trip."

Dr. Cameron entered the room, carrying a clipboard and a sheaf of papers. "Hi, I'm sorry to interrupt..."

"That's okay," Charlie said. "Don told me about the experimental treatment and the possibility that the anthrax could mutate."

"Okay," Cameron said. "I hope he also told you that there's still a good chance that the bacteria won't mutate."

"Yes, he did, but he didn't know the probabilities."

Don smiled fondly at his brother. "Charlie's a mathematician. He loves it when you talk numbers to him."

Cameron pursed her lips and said, "Well, unfortunately, I don't have numbers for you. There are too many variables to consider. We don't know what was spliced to the anthrax. All we know is that this isn't the run of the mill anthrax bacteria."

"What is the experimental treatment?" Charlie asked.

"You'll be injected with bacteriophage. They're viruses that specifically target Bacillus anthracis, the anthrax bacteria. They inject their genetic material into the bacteria cells, and reproduce until they explode the host cells. The benefit is that they work against all Bacillus anthracis cells, even those that have been genetically altered and those that have become resistant to antibiotics."

Alan said, "It sounds perfect. There must be a downside."

"They've been tested on animals, but not approved for human testing. Fortunately, there is a doctor here at Princeton who is working with these phage. Dr. House is contacting him now."

"But if it's not approved for human testing, how can you use it on Charlie?" Amita asked.

"Well, we're hoping this request can be fast tracked because of the national security implications. Also, Dr. House is not a stickler for regulations."

"No. I never would have guessed," Alan said sarcastically.

Cameron smiled, "But he gets results." She turned to Charlie. "If we determine that the bacteria is mutating into a resistant form, we won't have a lot of time to initiate treatment, so we're trying to get everything ready just in case. We're still hopeful that it won't mutate."

"Keep telling me that," Charlie said. "What are the side effects of the treatment? Or don't you know because of the lack of testing?"

"In animal tests, no side effects have been encountered. The treatment either works, or it doesn't. If it works, the anthrax is stopped and the patient lives. If it's unsuccessful, the outcome is the same as it would be if there were no treatment."

"Death," Charlie whispered.

Cameron nodded.

"I'll sign. And hope it doesn't come to this." He took the clipboard, read the form quickly and then signed. He handed the clipboard back to Cameron.

"While I'm here, let me check your vitals." When she finished, she smiled, "Well, your temperature is coming down nicely. How are you feeling?"

"A lot better. When can you cut back the pain medication? It's knocking me out."

"I think we can start tapering it off after Dr. Foreman finishes your colonoscopy. He should be here soon." She headed for the door. "Don't hesitate to have the nurse page me if you have any questions at all, okay?"

"Okay," Charlie said. He reached for his cup and took a long drink. He caught Alan and Don staring at him. "What?"

"Are you sure you want to do that bacteriophage treatment, Charlie?"

"What choice do I have? It really didn't sound as if there were too many options available."

"No, that's true." Alan squeezed Charlie's hand. "I just wish you didn't have to make that choice."

"I know. But I did and I have. So let's talk about something else. How was your trip here? Have you seen the inn yet?"

"Our trip was good. I haven't seen the inn, but your brother has."

"It's great, Charlie," Don said. "The owner was really nice. She had someone from the kitchen bring sandwiches and coffee for Amita and me. We brought the leftovers to Larry and Dad. I figured you wouldn't be eating anything yet, otherwise I would have saved you something."

Charlie grinned. "Sure you would." He glanced up at the IV bag. "That's my breakfast, lunch and dinner for a while, I guess."

Agent O'Connell entered the room, looking like he was ready to spit nails. "Agent Eppes," he said. "May I speak with you? In private?"

Don stood slowly, smiling. "Let me guess. Assistant Director Tompkins has been in touch."

Charlie looked up, shocked. "Tompkins? Don, what have you been up to?"

"Just a little investigation. A little computer hacking," he nodded at Charlie's computer. "And the calling in of a few favors. No big deal, Buddy."

"'No big deal,' he says!" O'Connell scoffed. "I just spent the last fifteen minutes being reamed out by Tompkins."

"Well, the big secret is out," Don said. "I've told House. I've told my team. And I was just about to tell these good people what I've discovered. So unless you have more information to give me, I think we can discuss this right here."

O'Connell found a chair and sat. "Go for it, Agent Eppes. I can't wait to hear how you did this."

"Okay," Don turned to Charlie, "I'm sorry I had to go behind your back to get this, but I know you signed that agreement not to discuss your work for the NSA. You're going to have to fix your encryption program."

"Why? What did you do?" Charlie said, raising the head of his bed.

"Not me. Her," Don pointed to Amita. "Of course, I asked her to do it, so don't blame her. Anyway, Megan tracked down your cell phone roaming records and found out you were in Baghdad last week. Amita found an encrypted email that said you and three other consultants were invited to dinner at the home of an Iraqi government official." He bit his lip and said, "One of those consultants is dead, and the other two are in critical condition. The Iraqi official was briefly hospitalized, but he apparently received some kind of treatment that hasn't been made available to us."

"Crap," Charlie breathed. "Who died?"

"I don't remember," Don said.

"Mason," said O'Connell. "Mason died."

Charlie rubbed his face with both hands. "Shit, Don. I thought I was the only one who got sick."

"I know, Buddy. I'm sorry. Were you friends with Mason?"

"Not really. We worked together a couple of times. We got along great. He was a nice guy. He had a wife and two little boys." Charlie stared at O'Connell. "Why wasn't I told about this?"

O'Connell shrugged. "You weren't in any condition..."

"Granted," Charlie said. "But why did you keep this information from the doctors?"

"I didn't have a choice," O'Connell said.

Alan shook his head. "You always have a choice, Agent. You chose to put your orders above Charlie's life."

"You're right, Mr. Eppes. I made the choice to do what I'm hired to do. I know the NSA is trying to find out what treatment Mr. Abu-Hassan received so we can help Charlie and the other two consultants. We did see to it that Charlie is receiving the best possible care. I regret that we didn't find it soon enough to save Dr. Mason. But I don't see how telling you that Charlie was in Baghdad would have made a damn bit of difference."

"Do you have children, Agent O'Connell?" Alan asked softly.

"No."

"When you have kids, you'll understand."