Chapter 3

A coughing spell brought Eames to consciousness and she was immediately aware of hands helping her sit up, supporting her as she tried to breathe in air filled with ash, with lungs that felt full of hot ash. Tears streamed down her face as she struggled and she felt something pressing against her face. When she took a swipe at the offensive object, hands shifted to pull her arms down. She faded for a few minutes and then realized that she could breathe again. It still felt a little like someone was sitting on her chest, but at least she was getting some much-needed air. As cool clean air filled her lungs, she felt herself slide away from the noise surrounding her.

"Eames, can you hear me?"

She recognized the voice. Mike Logan. What was Logan doing here? Where was here? She fluttered her lids, concentrating to will her eyes to open. "Logan?" Her voice was rough and raspy. Her throat was dry and felt raw.

A relieved smile crossed his face. "Yeah, it's me, Eames. Just take it easy, the doctor says you're going to be fine."

Eames' mind finally caught up to the fact that she was lying on a gurney in an emergency room. The head of the bed was elevated, no doubt to help her breathe, and an oxygen mask was the intrusive apparatus she'd felt on her face. Looking around, she took in the fact that she was wearing a hospital gown and that she was connected to a cardiac monitor. Another monitor was clipped to her finger and someone had started an IV in her other arm. Now I know why Bobby says he hates these things.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice sounding odd and muffled under the mask.

"You don't remember?" Logan asked.

Eames frowned and tried to settle her thoughts. Her eyes suddenly shot open as the last scene she remembered played through her mind; Bobby being thrown to the ground by some invisible force. "Bobby!" she cried as she tried to push back the covers and sit up. Logan pushed her back down, holding her shoulders.

"Eames, you need to lay still. Calm down." Another set of hands joined in as Logan pleaded with her to settle down. A nurse had come running over to the room she had been set up in, and was also trying to keep her in bed. Her strength finally giving out and Eames relaxed and settled back against the pillows. Logan and the nurse let her go and stood back up.

"Detective Eames, you really need to stay still," the nurse admonished as she checked the monitor connections and the IV line. "You took in quite a bit of smoke."

"Sorry… I need to check on my partner, Bobby Goren. Something happened… he went down like was he shot?" She had no other answer for the way his body had been propelled backward.

The nurse paused for a moment. I wonder if that's the poor man in three? Was he shot in the head? He'll be lucky if he makes it through the night. "Uh, I'm not really sure . . . but I could check for you." I hope that's not him, sweetie.

Eames focused on controlling the rising panic, but the heart monitor was giving her away. Logan reached out and took her hand, squeezing it. "Please, could you see if he's… okay?"

The nurse glanced at the racing monitor and then back to Eames. "I will if you'll try to calm down. There's no use panicking before we know anything, right? But before I go, let me switch you off this mask so you'll be more comfortable. You're oxygen levels are much better now." The nurse removed the mask and replaced it with nasal cannula, adjusting the placement around Eames' head. "There, now you just rest and I'll check on your partner."

Eames watched as the nurse left and then looked up to find Logan watching her. "Do you know anything?" Her mind immediately envisioned what the scene in the emergency room might have looked like. An image of a man being rushed through the halls of the hospital, face covered with an oxygen mask and bloody dressings hiding most of his head, save for a small patch of graying brown hair sticking out of the top of the mess of bandages. The shirt pulled open and his chest bared, with heart monitor pads plastered among the grime and bruises. As the gurney disappears through a pair of swinging doors, the sound of the monitor alarms begin to blare over the shouts of the doctor running along side the stretcher.

Eames repressed a shudder as she gasped reflexively, sitting bolt upright in bed as Logan winced. "Is he..?"

"I don't know, Ross is there trying to find out. He said he'd come back and let me know," he said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed and wrapping his arms protectively around her. She leaned against his chest, burying her face in his shoulder, thoughts of Bobby possibly dying filling her with tremendous grief. She was shaking, crying, and terrified, for both her partner and for herself. Bobby had filled a gap in her life that had threatened to swallow her up. One that she didn't think anyone else would ever be able to replace. Once they had gotten over the initial awkwardness, they had clicked, becoming comfortable with each other with stunning ease. There had been periods of awkwardness since, but they had been able to get past these tests and actually had a stronger partnership and friendship because of them.

"Eames, remember what the nurse said, 'There's no use panicking before we know anything'."

She pulled back as the nurse entered the room, Dr. Kirkus right behind her. She was almost relieved at the sight of the familiar face, remembering the physician from when Bobby had been injured in a shooting several months earlier. What she didn't like was the serious expression on her face.

"Dr. Kirkus, how's Bobby?" she asked as Logan helped ease her back against the pillows.

Dr. Kirkus checked her monitor readings and lines as she spoke. "I'm glad you to see you awake, Miss Eames, I was becoming quite concerned." When she seemed satisfied with her readings, she stilled to face her. "I'm afraid your partner's injury was very serious. I wasn't his doctor this time around, but I know he suffered a bullet wound to the head and that they've taken him to surgery. I haven't seen the x-rays, so I can't even make a guess about the prognosis."

Eames sighed and closed her eyes, wishing she would open to find this had all been a horrible dream. "He's tough, Eames," said Logan, taking her hand and squeezing it.

She opened her eyes and wiped the tears that continued to well up in her eyes. "I know."

Dr. Kirkus pulled her stethoscope from around her shoulders and moved them to her neck. "I need to take a listen to those lungs of yours." Eames sat silently as she moved the stethoscope bell around her chest and side and then had her lean forward so she could listen at her back.

"Sounds much better, but I'd still like to keep you overnight for observation. You were pretty out of it when they brought you in and I'm told you were pretty close to ground zero."

Eames frowned and shook her head, stopping as the movement sent needle sharp pains through her temples. "No, I don't need to stay, I'm fine. I need to be with Bobby."

Kirkus let out a breath and shook his head. "No, you need to be in a room being monitored. When Detective Goren comes out of surgery, they'll first have him in recovery for several hours. There are absolutely no visitors there. Then he will be transferred into ICU, which has very limited visiting hours, which they are very strict about keeping. I'll make sure the surgeon comes to talk to you as soon as they finish up, but I need you to stay in bed."

Logan placed a hand on Eames' arm. "I'll make sure she stays put, doctor."

ooOOoo

Shortly after Eames was settled into a room, Logan's cell phone rang. He talked for a moment and then hung up as he turned back to Eames. "That was Ross. He's on his way up."

Eames nodded, relieved that maybe she could finally find out exactly what had happened. Ross entered a few minutes later, looking more disheveled than she ever remembered seeing. He studied Eames as he walked across the room. At least Eames looks like she's going to be okay. What a mess this was turning out to be.

"Eames… Alex, how are you feeling?" Ross asked nervously.

"I'm fine, just a little too much smoke. What . . . what happened out there?"

A disaster, but it could have been worse. Ross rubbed his forehead a couple of times as he took a deep breath. "Lt. Michaels and Lt. Neal have been working with your and your partner's notes and think they've come up with a new working theory. They're pretty sure it was the college gang you and Goren have been investigating. Thomas Keller and Connor Jameson were arrested trying to slip out of one of the buildings across the street from the FedEx complex. Connor Jameson was carrying a rifle and scope. Ballistics has the rifle, they're just waiting for ..." Ross looked at Mike, looking for support, "...for a sample to compare with the other shells in the rifle. We know one of them as the triggerman that shot Detective Goren, but so far neither one of them is talking."

"Why would they do that?" asked Eames. "Why would they go after Bobby?"

Ross shrugged his shoulders. "Coincidence and bad luck. They couldn't have specifically been targeting Goren. They had no way of knowing you two whould be at the scene. They might just have been trying to stir things up. When he made the run for the girl he made himself the perfect target. They had the explosives set in the abandoned building next door to confuse us, which worked spectacularly."

Eames suddenly sat upright. "The girl. What about the girl Bobby went after?"

"She's going to be fine," said Ross. "Scratches and bruises and a few minor burns, but nothing serious. I think they're keeping her overnight for smoke inhalation as well, but the doctor said she should be released by tomorrow."

Ross's expression tightened, his jaw line stretching taunt. "She was bait. She said a man grabbed her during the evacuation and took her to the abandoned building. He waited until just before she was spotted to release her to send her out. Told her to go to the front of the building and call out and someone would come for her."

Eames clenched her hands in anger and felt her heart rate climb with her increasing tension. How could anyone use a child like that? "Do you know who it was? Which one?"

Ross nodded. "Based on her description, we showed her a picture of Darrell Griffith and she positively identified him as the man who took her." Ross smiled.

"Has he been arrested yet?" asked Logan.

"No, unfortunately he must have slipped out the back of the building before the shooting and before the explosion, escaping during the ensuing chaos. They think he must have left on foot and walked several blocks away where he had a car waiting, or simply got on a metro bus. On my way up here, I received a call from Lt. Michaels, they picked up Chase Hayden and Kylan Jensen at the Hayden residence. So far, ATF has found the same materials used in making the devices used today in Hayden's car and room; CSU is going over both for explosive's residue. I think we've got them nailed this time."

"Everyone but Darrell," said Eames forlornly.

"Him too when we catch him," said Ross. "When we catch him."

Eames smiled at his optimism, even thought she didn't feel it. Bobby had been convinced that Darrell was the brains of the operation, so she felt he probably had a contingency plan in place and was safely in hiding. But, he couldn't hide forever.

The door to the room opened and a woman in scrubs with her dark hair pulled up in a bun walked in. "I'm Dr. Gibson and I'm looking for Eames?" she ventured inquisitively.

Eames raised her right hand a few inches. "I'm Eames? Are… were you the surgeon who operated on my partner, Bobby… Bobby Goren?"

The woman smiled warmly as she approached the bed to stand beside the worried young woman. "Yes, I did, and I think I may have good news. As you know, Detective Goren had a severe head wound. The bullet struck in the left temple region about here," she said, pointing to the area about an inch left of her eye and continued to illustrate as she spoke.

"The bullet struck at about a thirty degree angle to the bone instead of a ninety degree angle, so it actually glided along the surface of the temporal bone here, before again following the bone as it curves back out and connects with the parietal bone. There it had enough force, that the bullet was able to penetrate and fracture the skull. By that time, the momentum and force had sufficiently dissipated so that the bullet didn't penetrate the brain. It merely entered the soft tissue surrounding the brain, thereby minimizing any resulting brain trauma."

At that moment, Eames actually began entertaining hope that she hadn't lost Bobby. In spite of her best efforts to remain optimistic, she had been almost convinced he would die up until this point. Looking slightly confused, she asked, "So, does that mean he'll be okay?"

The doctor gave a small, half-hearted smile. "It isn't a guarantee, but he has a very good chance, a very good chance. We've debrided the area, removed several bone splinters, and sewn him back up. A small portion of the bullet fragment went too deep for us to try to remove it without possibly causing more damage, so we left it in place. Something he'll need to be aware of in the future, especially if he's ever in need of an MRI or goin through airport security."

Eames' mouth dropped open. "You left part of the bullet in his brain?"

Ross smiled down at Eames. "We have war veterans all over the country with bullet fragments or shrapnel in their head, in their bodies. Sometimes it's less dangerous to leave it in place."

The doctor nodded. "The main danger of leaving it in place is infection. We've started him on a course of antibiotics already. The piece is very small and it's unlikely to ever cause him problems. He was lucky. An injury like this rarely presents with as little brain damage as he's experienced. We won't know anything for sure until he wakes up and we can do a full neurological work up and evaluation, but I think the prognosis for Detective Goren is relatively good."

Eames sighed and nodded. She was getting a good, hopeful feeling from the doctor and she tried to trust in that. "When can I see him?"

"I understand you're going to be released tomorrow. I've also been told that you two are close. He'll be in recovery until morning, after that we'll transfer him to ICU. I understand that you've been made aware of their limited visitation times. I know several of the nursing staff up there and I'll see what I can do to get them to allow you to take a peek if you end up being released between regular visiting periods. After that, you'll have to abide by their set times. I know that's difficult, but it really is in the best interest of the patient, and we all want what's best for Detective Goren." She smiled and patted Eames' hand. "Don't worry, they take very good care of their patients up there."

Eames nodded. "I know, I just . . . don't want him to wake up and be alone."