Chapter 24

When Don returned to Charlie's room, he was surprised to see his brother was looking a little pale and a lot tired, but still awake. He smiled at Don and said, "Did Colby have anything new?"

"Nah. He assumed all we wanted was the anthrax information. Which, to be fair, was true until a few minutes ago. He's going to pass your concerns on to his contacts, and see if they have anything new."

"Good," Charlie said, shifting, trying to get comfortable.

"You okay?" Don said, frowning.

"Yeah," Charlie said with a wave of his hand. "I've just been in the same position way too long. And I need a shower and a shave."

"Yeah, you are getting a bit ripe," Don said, grinning.

"Gee, thanks," Charlie said, laughing. "So have you heard anything from anybody else yet? You said you'd spoken with Havercamp, and with Bob Tompkins."

"Yeah, just to try to find out what you were up to last week. Since you wouldn't tell your own brother."

"Don, you know I couldn't," Charlie said.

"I know, Buddy. But it's all good now. The treatment's working. You're doing a lot better." He paused, looking at Charlie closely. "You are doing better, right?"

"Of course I am," Charlie said, bracing himself with his hands and feet so he could shift his butt to a slightly different position on the bed. "You think the doctor will let me get up and walk around soon?"

"I hope he gives us advance warning so I can bring your jammies over. We wouldn't want you mooning the staff and patients."

Charlie gave Don a look that could have killed a lesser man. "So, you really haven't heard anything more about what's going on in Baghdad? I wonder if anybody else in Abu-Hassan's household came down with it. I really wonder where the anthrax came from. Was it from Saddam's stash, or is it something new?"

Don shook his head. "Sorry, but we were a little preoccupied here, Charlie." He glanced at Agent O'Connell. "Is there anything you can tell us, Mike?"

O'Connell looked up from his book and shook his head. "Sorry, Don. I don't know any more about this than you do. My only involvement has been keeping an eye on Charlie. Now that the cat's out of the bag, so to speak, I can ask my boss if there's anything we can pass on to you. I wouldn't hold out too much hope, though. The NSA is big on keeping their secrets secret."

"You can say that again," Alan said. "I am still amazed that keeping this secret was more important than Charlie's health. And not just him, but what about the other consultants? What about the man who died?"

"Dad," Charlie said softly. "It's okay."

"No, Charlie it is not okay. If I were you, I'd seriously reconsider associating with an agency that takes such a cavalier attitude toward..."

"Dad," Charlie said, pushing himself upright and grabbing his father's arm. He winced and pressed a hand to his belly.

"Charlie," Alan said, "are you in pain?"

"A little," Charlie admitted.

"Why didn't you say something?"

Charlie shrugged. "It's nothing, really. I just moved too fast."

Alan quickly pressed his palm to Charlie's forehead. "You still feel cool. How long have you been feeling bad, Son?"

"Since, when was it? Sunday night? Monday morning?"

"You know what I mean, Charlie."

"Half an hour?"

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't want you worrying that I might be getting worse again, okay?"

Amita squeezed his hand. "Call the nurse, Charlie. Please?"

"No. I'll be okay," Charlie said.

"Charles," Larry said, "It won't go away just because you pretend it doesn't exist."

"I'm aware of that, Larry." He sighed. "All right," he said, pushing the nurse call button.

Dr. Foreman walked into the room before Charlie's finger left the button. Alan shook his head, amazed. "Well, that was fast."

"What?" Foreman asked. "I'm just here for the next blood draw."

"Ah, well, maybe you can answer our question," Alan said. "Charlie is in pain again, and he was afraid to tell anybody because he didn't want to face the possibility he might be getting worse again."

Foreman smiled and said to Charlie, "The blood work shows you're getting better. But we are weaning you from the morphine, so that's probably it."

"I hope so," Charlie said softly. "Is there a way we can be sure?"

"Sure. I'll check your vitals, then draw your blood and test it. If the anthrax is getting worse again, your temperature will be up, and your blood counts will be getting worse. Chase should be here with his results any time now, too. If they're better, we'll assume for now it's the lack of morphine. And I'll check with House and order something else for the pain, if you'd like."

"I don't think that will be necessary," Charlie said. "It's not bad unless I move too quickly. And I'd rather not feel like a zombie."

"You sure?" Don asked.

"Yeah, Don. I'm sure. If it gets too bad I'll ask for a painkiller." He waited as Foreman drew the blood and checked his temperature. "How's it look?"

"Temp's 100.1. Down since last time," Foreman said.

"Well, you and Dr. Cameron don't use the same thermometer, so it's possible..."

"Charles," Larry said, "on the one hand, you appear to be afraid to admit that you might be getting worse, and yet, when faced with evidence that you are getting better, you appear to reject that as well."

Charlie chuckled, "Sorry. You're right, Larry. Thanks, Dr. Foreman. I'll take that as a good sign."

Foreman nodded. "Okay, good. I'll write the order for a painkiller, and you can just ask the nurse if you change your mind."

After Dr. Foreman left, Charlie closed his eyes and sighed. "Well, that gave me a good scare," he murmured.

Don's phone rang, and he glance around guiltily before answering, "Eppes."

"Don. Colby. Turns out the Whiz Kid was right. It wasn't Mohammed. They're looking at the wife."

"The wife? What possible motive could she have?"

"I think they're looking more at the opportunity she had."

"Are the Abu-Hassans Sunni or Shia?" Don asked.

He could hear Colby rustling papers. Finally he said, "The whole family is Shia."

"So there's no reason for her to want the Baathists back in power. Did she know any of the consultants before they came to her hosue?"

"No," Colby said. "Not that I know of."

"And Saddam's regime was not kind to women. So what made them decide that Mohammed was innocent? And why didn't he get sick when everybody else did? Including his own father."

"He's in the army. He was vaccinated, and it looks like it worked."

"Okay, did they find out what the father was treated with?"

"Some new treatment," Colby said. "Bacterio... Give me a minute. I've got it written down somwhere."

"Bacteriophage?" Don said.

"Yeah, that's it. Bacteriophage. How'd you know?"

"That's what they're giving Charlie, and it seems to be working on him, too."

"That's good, Don. Hey, listen, Megan needs me..."

"You and Megan? Larry's right here, you know."

"No," Colby said loud enough that everyone in the room could hear him. "Tell Professor Fleinhardt that Megan and I are just coworkers. We got something going down here, and I've got to go. I'll have to get back to you later."