Donovan followed Miranda through the antiseptic smelling halls of the hospital ward up to the intensive care unit, a grimace on his face. It seems it didn't matter if the hospital was American or British, hospitals were hospitals and Ethan Donovan hated hospitals. Miranda walked up to the nurses station, confident and tall. She flashed a smile at the young doctor and held out her credentials. He stopped tapping at the computer in front of him and stared at her. Donovan wondered if she was unconsciously mimicking Jack. He knew enough about field work to know that a lot of it was about confidence. You'd be surprised what you can gain with some clever talk and some confidence.
"Torchwood," she said briskly. "I apologise for barging in but I need to have a look at your records regarding the Wilson family."
The young doctor looked a bit gobsmacked. With a thick Scottish brogue, he stammered, "Err, I'm Doctor Cameron MacDonald. I'm sorry but that information is-"
"Torchwood has autonomy, Doctor MacDonald," Miranda insisted.
He didn't seem convinced. He looked from Miranda to Donovan and back again. "Look, I'll have to check with my superiors. I've never heard of this… What agency are you from again?"
"Torchwood, Doctor MacDonald. If you wouldn't mind checking with them now please. My time is limited," Miranda repeated, adding annoyance to her tone. "Ryan, Miranda, Torchwood authorisation alpha five seven three, november foxtrot, four one one six.
Miranda walked away while he picked up the phone and started dialing. She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest. She gave him a good once over. He was about Fish's height, maybe a bit taller though it was hard to judge with him sitting down. His hair was black but the stubble across his face was slightly red, not surprising for a Scot. There was a strange efficiency about his movements, an odd air to his speech. His accent was Glaswegian but it was a bit muddled, as if he spent a significant amount of time outside his country of birth. The most startling thing about the young doctor were his eyes. Miranda had never seen eyes of such a deep, true blue - like Caribbean waters.
"He must be new. Looks to be only a few years out of his residency… maybe less."
"I still can't believe you guys walk in, say 'Torchwood' and it's like Moses parting the fucking Red Sea," Donovan said, shaking his head a bit.
"Torchwood has existed in this city for over a hundred years, Ethan. We are, as Fish once called us, the worst kept secret in the city. The public may not know what we do but they know we exist. Ask about Torchwood and most people point towards the bay."
"I'm surprised you don't have more people beating down your door," Donovan noted.
Miranda shook her head. "Sometimes the way to generate curiosity is to attempt to stamp it out. The twenty first century is when everything changes."
"Jack always says that, what does it mean?" Donovan asked, leaning against the wall.
"I do not know," Miranda said, truthfully. "He's said it for as long as I've known him."
Donovan was about to ask another question when the young doctor returned looking a bit flustered and embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I didn't know-"
"There is no need to apologise, Doctor MacDonald," Miranda said with a smile, cutting off the apology. "Now, present your cases, please."
"I'll try to explain best I can," Cam said.
"I'm a physician, Doctor MacDonald. Please, present your cases," Miranda said, patiently.
Cam gestured in front of him and started to walk. "We have five patients and seven staff-"
"Wait a moment, Doctor MacDonald," Miranda interrupted, stopping the young doctor in his tracks. "Did you say that your staff are also infected?"
"Aye, it's a possibility, Doctor Ryan," he said.
Miranda turned to Donovan. She was unwilling to put him at risk. "Ethan, please go outside and call Jack. Let him know we have more than five cases and then wait in the car for me please?"
Donovan nodded and took out his mobile as he walked away. Miranda resumed walking with the other doctor. "I'm sorry, Doctor MacDonald. Please continue."
"We have Barbara Wilson, Caucasian female, age forty one. Her husband, Brian Wilson, Caucasian male, age forty five and their three children, Sandra, Sean and Stephanie ages eleven, nine and five respectively."
"Presenting complaint?" Miranda asked.
"Generalised flu-like symptoms. The whole family came into A&E a week ago because the youngest was running a fever and not drinking enough liquids. Mrs. Wilson was concerned about dehydration. It was pure luck the whole family had come along because not half an hour after they walked through the door, Brian Wilson collapsed into a coma and within two hours the entire family was comatose," Cam explained. "A few hours after the onset of coma, they all developed a greenish tint to their fingertips."
He came to a halt outside of an isolation ward.
"We have them all isolated," he said. "Full protocol for the staff. We've not seen any other cases since we've isolated them."
"The progression?" Miranda asked.
"From we've been able determine from interviewing friends and family members, at first, it was what you'd normally expect to fid in someone fighting off a bad cold," Cam said. He walked over to the nurse's station and reached for the appropriate chart. "At first, there was absolutely no explanation for the coma whatsoever. The bloodwork was unremarkable. All scans are clear. The cultures are still pending. We've started testing for everything we can think of."
"You said, 'at first'?" Miranda asked, flipping through the chart.
"Two days after the onset of the coma, they all began to show signs of multi system organ failure. The wee one, obviously, is the worst off. Her liver and kidney values are through the roof. We're also beginning to see evidence of cardiac stress," Cam said, pointing at the ECG readout. "You can see the profound arrhythmia and electrical abnormalities."
"This is a serious decline," Miranda said, squinting at the chart. She's circling the drain… "Toxicology?"
"All negative," Cam said, clearly frustrated. "Not even so much as an aspirin in their systems. I went to their house myself - organic everything, plant based, biodegradable cleaning supplies, dryer sheets I could have eaten…"
"I applaud your initiative, Doctor MacDonald," Miranda said. "The infected staff are isolated as well?"
Cam nodded. "Aye, we isolated them immediately even though none of them are showing any symptoms yet, as a precaution. We have them in the next ward over."
"Is the illness airborne?" Miranda asked.
"We don't think so. When Brian Wilson collapsed, he hit his face on the arm of a chair and began bleeding from his nose. All of the staff isolated were the ones who saw to his immediate care and came in direct contact with his blood, five nurses and one doctor. As luck, or bad luck I suppose in this case, would have it, each one of them had some sort of open wound or cut on themselves that we've identified as a probable source of infection. We also have had another case of an accidental needle puncture. One of the paediatric nurses punctured herself with a needle while trying to place a canula in Stephanie Wilson. That nurse hasn't yet fallen ill yet either but we've isolated her."
Miranda gestured at the isolation ward. "May I?"
"If you wish to take the risk, Doctor Ryan-"
"I do," Miranda said without hesitation. He had no way of knowing that Miranda was, in fact, in no danger at all. "Your locker room?"
"This way," Cam said, leading her to one of the doors.
Miranda changed into a pair of hospital scrubs and then she and Cam walked into the outer room of the isolation unit. Even though she knew she was safe, Miranda still followed the protocol. She washed her hands and donned the protective gear including the pair of eye goggles. She stepped into the room and moved towards the first patient, Barbara Wilson.
"You said you interviewed friends and family? Which of the family members became ill first?" Miranda asked as she scrutinized the woman's green tinged fingers.
"We have, but we've learned nothing really. Right now our guess is that Mrs. Wilson was the first one infected. She mentioned to her mother that she'd had difficulty shaking a cold before their visit to hospital but had also mentioned the whole family was ill. The timeline is hard to pin down. No one else they associate with is sick. No one at the children's school nor their neighbors or family. They've not been out of the country or done any sort of traveling. It's a mystery for sure," he replied.
Miranda moved from bed to bed, calmly examining each person. She examined little Stephanie last. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry… she though, resting her hand on the child's forehead. She nodded at Cam and stepped into the outer room again. She disposed of her protective gear and then began vigorously scrubbing at her hands and arms. They are all going to die… she thought as she rinsed her hands. All of the bloodwork showed that it would be a miracle if they survived… and Miranda Ryan didn't believe in miracles. As a precaution, she quickly showered in the locker room. When she'd redressed, she joined Cam in the hallway.
"Thank you for your time, Doctor MacDonald," Miranda said. She gazed into the isolation room again. "I pray your efforts will be successful."
"I'm not an idiot, Doctor Ryan," Cam said, in a low voice. "Their chances are slim, no mistake. Any insight… anything… Please…"
"I am so sorry, Doctor MacDonald, I can offer none. My leading differential would be a toxin if the staff you have isolated do not fall ill," Miranda shrugged. She had no idea what was causing this family to die but she'd also found nothing that would indicate anything alien was involved here. The circumstances were strange, yes, and the greenish hue to their fingertips was out of the ordinary but she knew of no Earth illness that would cause such a sign. She would need to return to the Hub and conduct some research. She held out her card to Cam. "If they expire, if you could please notify Torchwood."
"I thought you were some sort of specialist, but you're just like every other government bawbag. It's not airborne. It's not spreading so you can't be arsed with them can you?"
Without another word, Cam snatched the card from her, turned and walked away. Miranda heaved out a sigh and walked out of the hospital with a grim look on her face. The young doctor was frustrated. He had a good heart. She kept her head down as she walked through the car park.
"Let's get going, Ethan," she said, softly as she got behind the wheel of her car.
Donovan asked, "It's not anything alien is it?"
"It is suspicious. An entire family fallen comatose within hours of each other with green fingertips? That's no illness or toxin I'm familiar with. I need to do some research," Miranda said, climbing into her car. "They have isolated the exposed staff, but they are not ill yet. If they do not fall ill, my first thought would be some sort of toxin. Internal medicine and infectious disease is not my area of expertise."
"Did you ever practice medicine? Or were you always Torchwood?" Donovan asked, fastening his seatbelt.
"I used to be a surgeon," Miranda said.
"Really? Tough speciality," Donovan pointed out.
"It's a speciality that has a certain mindset and personality type. I prefer to be able to fix something. That?" Miranda said and then waved at the hospital. "That is in the hands of the Gods."
"If they die, you'll autopsy?" Donovan asked.
When… "Yes," Miranda nodded as she started the car. She glanced at the clock. It was past noon. "My apologies, Ethan. That took far longer than I anticipated."
"You can make it up to me," Donovan joked. "How about some lunch?"
"Do you like Thai?" she asked with a smile as she drove away from the hospital.
"Never had it," he replied, honestly.
"Well, if you're willing, I know just the place," Miranda said brightly.