Chapter 16

Michaela had never particularly liked late morning shifts because she couldn't do much before she went to work, and afterwards all she did was sleep. Now, however, she appreciated that she had enough time to deal with her morning sickness before she had to begin with her job at 11 a.m. Fortunately, the walls at the hotel were insulated and didn't let pass any sound so no one had heard her in her bathroom yet. She was positive about that because Hank hadn't teased her so far, and there was no doubt that he would start doing so as soon as he'd found out.

Actually, thinking about that had alerted her to one of her problems she'd managed to dismiss from her mind till now: the question where she would live when Sully was able to move back to the house. But once it came up, she couldn't stop mulling this thought over. She pushed it aside though as the hospital came into view when she drove to work the next day because it was one of her principles to strictly keep her personal life separate from her professional. If she made mistakes as a doctor, other people would suffer because of her, and she wouldn't allow that.

For some reason she didn't feel like driving into the underground parking garage today, and thus she rather pulled into an empty space on the parking lot in front of the building. As she climbed out of her Toyota, she realized why she wanted to avoid the basement: for the first time in days the sun was shining.

After taking her medical bag from the passenger seat, she straightened and held her face into the sun for a moment. She couldn't savor the warm beams for long though because a very young voice squealed, "Doctor Mike!"

Turning in the direction from where the call came, she saw an eight-year-old boy running towards her, arms outstretched. His big brown eyes were shining with joy when he reached her. Throwing his arms around her waist, he told her excitedly, "Ya were right, I can play baseball again! My head is just fine and my arm, too, and I can play again. Mom said…"

"… that you should let go of Dr. Mike, Anthony," a tall woman with skin as dark as chocolate just like her son's, continued the line of the boy, chuckling indulgently. "I'm sure that her next patient is already waitin' inside."

"No need to worry, Mrs. Wayland," Michaela assured, bending down to the boy who had let go of her. Ruffling the black hair with her free hand, she lovingly advised, "Always remember to wear your helmet, Anthony. Will you promise me that?"

"I will," replied the boy, nodding seriously, "'cause ya don't wanna see me here in the hospital again."

"That's right," Michaela laughed, straightening her back.

The boy's mother took the clue and grasped her son's hand. "Thanks for everythin' ya've done for us, Dr. Quinn."

"You are most welcome, Mrs. Wayland," Michaela retorted.

As the two of them strolled away, she turned in order to lock her car. Yet another voice distracted her from her task. "Are ya a doctor?" a dark, male voice asked.

Although this was a normal question, it instantly unsettled Michaela. However, she still replied, "Yes, I am."

Whilst speaking, she shifted so as to look at the man who had spoken to her yet as she at last faced him she froze. Her gut feeling had been right. The muzzle of a gun was directed at her chest.

xxx

Sully felt as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders. He couldn't really tell anymore what he had feared would happen when he saw a psychiatrist. The last hour, however, was nothing what he'd expected. Dr. Lindsay had neither treated him as if he was mentally retarded nor asked question he didn't want to answer. They simply had a conversation about his work at the Garden of Gods, what he loved about carving and how he had met Cloud Dancing and Snow Bird. Although he didn't know how this would help him walk again, he had made a second appointment for the next day.

Sitting in his wheelchair next to the main entrance, enjoying the fresh air that held a hint of warmth, he was waiting for Daniel who'd told him he would have a coffee at the canteen whilst he would have his session. Obviously his charming friend had found someone to talk to and forgot watching the time.

However, Sully didn't mind. Relaxing, he enjoyed the soft breeze and watched how people got out of their cars or climbed back in, driving away. He even thought he heard a blackbird singing when suddenly sirens of several police cars that raced along the street drowned the sound out. Finding back to reality, he straightened in his wheelchair. Growing a tad impatient, he peered through the window next to him, hoping to spot his friend. Yet then he heard a boy's voice calling Michaela's name. Jerking around, Sully craned his neck, trying to spot her. He wanted to tell her about his first session, showing her that he had taken her advice at last.

As he finally detected her standing together with a little boy and a woman around a hundred yards away, she was just throwing back her head, laughing heartily. Deciding he would roll to her, he quickly looked through the window again, but Daniel still wasn't there. Thus he pivoted, yet the scene his eyes were meeting now had changed considerably. The African-American woman and her little son were gone but a man, whose jacket hang loose over his shoulders so his arms were hidden, had joined Michaela. Sully knew Michaela well enough to see that something was wrong; the more so when the man stepped even closer to her, invading her comfort zone before he slightly pushed her in the direction of the emergency room that had its entrance on the right from the main one.

Alarmed, Sully called her name as loud as he could, but Michaela didn't halt in her tracks. He was sure though that she had heard him because she had turned her had a fraction, as if she wanted to look where he was. Yet she didn't finish the move but sped up on her way towards the building.

Growing more worried by the minute, he pushed the wheels of his wheelchair as hard as possible, trying to reach her. She was, however, soon out of his sight for the cars on the parking lot obstructed his view on her. His heart was drumming against his ribs as he at last reached the glass doors. Michaela was nowhere to be seen and thus he entered the emergency room. He didn't make it far into it though, because a nurse held him back, "Can I help you, Sir?" the middle-aged woman asked.

"Where's Dr. Quinn?" he replied, looking around frantically.

Somewhat taken aback by the strange behavior of the young man, the nurse retorted, "She's busy. Just came in with a patient. And if you don't need a doctor, I suggest you rather leave."

Unaffected by the now off-putting tone, Sully insisted, "I need to talk to her. Where is she?" Venturing deeper into the waiting area, he continued searching yet his wheelchair was abruptly stopped.

The nurse had gripped his right armrest and bending down she looked him straight in the eye as she demanded, "I only ask you this once to leave. The next time I will call the security to escorts you out of here."

Sully, close to panicking by now for he hadn't spotted Michaela yet, only had heard one word. As if waking up, he nodded. "Security sounds good."

Realizing that the woman before him still didn't understand, he explained, "There's somethin' wrong. I saw her with that guy in the parking lot. He forced her to go with her."

Straightening her back, the nurse looked down at him. "Actually, she came in with two men," she said slowly, realizing that something had bothered her when she had seen them. "And she said she didn't need assistance, which is highly uncommon." Being trained to think quickly, she decided, "Wait here. I'll see whether I can talk to her. If not, we'll call the security."

xxx

A drop of sweat slowly ran down Brent Currier's temple. Nervously watching the doctor work on Huston, he still wondered how a simple little robbery could have gone so wrong. Why couldn't this stupid Vietnamese just give them what he had in his till? The little money sure wasn't worth protecting it with his life. But it was his stubborn brother's fault, too. If he'd listen, then they wouldn't have had a gun with them, and no one would have died or being wounded so badly that he needed a doc. Fortunately they had at least been faster than the cops. They had no clue yet who they were and where. If it was for him, it would stay that way.

No one was suspicious yet for he had done everything right: he'd left Huston in the car when he looked out the emergency room. As soon as he'd realized he couldn't just take his brother in and force a doc to treat him without drawing attention to them, he'd taken one of the wheelchairs that stood close to the entrance, went out with it, put Huston in and then he'd been lucky enough to hear that kid addressing a doc in the parking lot. It'd been a child's play for him to make her go with him; feeling a gun against your ribs was always convincing. And once she was done with Huston, he would use her as their shield to get out of here. He'd take her with them until they'd left town. Then he wouldn't need her anymore. It didn't really make a difference if the cops looked for them for one murder or two.

However, she worked too slowly for his liking and thus he hissed through clenched teeth, "Can't ya speed up a bit?"

Once she'd seen the man in the wheelchair, covered in blood, Michaela's doctor instinct was strong enough to overrule the terror she felt. As long as she worked, she was able to forget that a gun was directed at her, and she had no doubt that the man who had taken her hostage would use it. Yet this wasn't the only thing she feared.

Although she'd been lucky enough to find an empty bay right away and closed the curtains immediately, she knew that they'd still been seen on their way. It was only a question of time that she would be asked again if she wanted assistance for it was highly uncommon that a doctor worked without a nurse.

As if her thoughts had been heard, her name was called from right in front of the curtain, "Dr. Quinn?"

So as to warn her to not make any mistake, the gun was pressed against the back of her head. Michaela knew she needed to react quickly, and her mind was racing with searching for the words that would be interpreted right from the nurse but not from the criminal next to her. "I'm alright, Jenny," she at last said, trying to sound casual despite the slight tremble of her voice. "I'm almost done here." Which was a straight lie. Although she'd just pulled out the bullet from a deep wound in the patient's upper shoulder near the neck, she still had to sew the incision closed. "But you could prepare a coffee for me," she added. "I'll need one when I'm done here."

The last remark sounded harmless to the kidnapper but was the nurse's clue. The two of them had talked about her stopping drinking coffee only yesterday, and Michaela hoped that Jenny would realize that something was wrong. And so she did. Michaela knew it when she heard her reply, "With milk and sugar, as usual?"

They both knew that she'd loved drinking her coffee without anything added, and thus Michaela response was meant to take away the last doubt about her being in trouble. "Milk and two spoons of sugar as always, Jenny."

The nurse had already experienced many dangerous situations in this section of the hospital and knew that her fast reaction was necessary so that no one would get harmed. First she needed to reassure Dr. Quinn that she had gotten her message. "I'll take care of things," she said, not gaining any reply again though. Worried, she made a beeline for the next phone.

Inside of the small bay the tension rose. Although the walls that cut her off from the rest of the world were made of fabric, to Michaela it seemed they were of concrete. Her patient, although being conscious all the time, hadn't said one single word yet. She had assumed he was occupied with keeping the pain under control and trying to stay awake, but it became obvious now that she'd underestimated him.

As she bent down to close the wound, she felt his gaze full of mistrust on her. Biting her lower lip she told herself to concentrate and stay calm. Calm and quiet. Normally, she would have tried to talk the men into giving up, but this time she wouldn't. She wasn't able to predict their reaction, and she couldn't risk that something happened to her. She was pregnant and would do anything for her child to live.

Huston Currier watched the doctor through narrowed eyes. Since she had given him an anesthetic shot to numb the area where the bullet had hit him, he could direct his attention away from keeping himself together. He thought the dialogue he'd just heard strange, and as if to corroborate his suspicion, he noticed a hush fall over the room behind the curtains.

"They know," he informed his brother, shifting his head so as to look up at him.

Confused, Brent returned the gaze. "How? No one…"

Pointing with his chin at Michaela, Huston cut him off, "She just told them."

Brent needed a moment to digest that, but once he did, he grew furious. "Ya stupid bitch!" he growled. Still keeping his volume low, he pressed the gun against Michaela's temple, threatening, "I should shoot ya right away, but I'll wait till ya are done here."

Feeling the hot breath hitting her cheek, Michaela needed to fight down a wave of nausea. Not now, she pleaded with herself, not now!

Yet the threat did something else to her: her survival instinct kicked in, making her see the situation crystal-clear. Coolly, she pointed out, "You will still need me to get out of here."

Whilst Brent only huffed, Huston knew she was right. She was their lever for freedom. That didn't mean though he would allow her to think she had the control here. "Shut up and rather hurry. And keep in mind: we are the ones with the gun, so we say what will happen."

xxx

Sully watched in horror how several members of a special unit, armed up to their teeth, took over. They forced everyone to leave so they would have enough room for their snipers. Yet there was no way that he would allow anyone to shoot when Michaela was in the line of fire. Desperately, he searched for a different solution, and once he thought he had it, he hoped the man in charge was somebody who would listen to him. The officer did, but only after Sully had told him that Michaela was pregnant. The other man's misfortune, his wife had just lost their baby, was Sully's luck.

It took another ten minutes, until one of the curtains was slowly pulled aside, revealing Huston sitting in a wheelchair that was pushed by Michaela. Right behind her was Brent, holding the muzzle of his gun against her temple. As the group slowly started towards the entrance, no one else in the room moved.