Chapter 14

Eliot's eyes opened, but he didn't see anyone. He tried to turn his head but that only convinced him that it would fall off if he did it again. A moment later, the outline of a person came back into his line of vision. He squinted, rubbed his eyes, and looked again. She smiled as she set down the small bowl of water she was carrying and seated herself in the chair next to his cot.

"Doc?"

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Stomach hurts. Sleepy. Why are you here?"

"Mister Shelley called me because both he and Mister Hardison came down with acute cases of Hepatitis. It makes sense from several standpoints to bring all of the acute cases to one place, and treat

you all together."

"Hardison hasn't been vaccinated."

"We'll take care of that first, then." Eliot's eyelids were getting heavy, but he was trying to force himself to stay awake so that he could answer questions as needed. Doc's eyes never left Eliot as she reached into the small bowl and withdrew a washcloth. Wringing it out, she folded it in thirds and placed it on Eliot's forehead as his eyes finally slipped closed.

"Rest, my friend," she said quietly.

(0o0)

Nate, Parker, and Sophie, all of whom were not acute, and in fact, were not yet showing any signs of Hepatitis, had been shooed out of the treatment room by Doc, so they would not have any greater exposure than they had already, and so there was more room for everyone who was acute. Hardison was seated on a sofa in a corner of the training room, with his laptop open on his lap, working on the age regressions Parker had asked for. Shelley was camped out near Eliot, changing the compresses used to bring both Lee and Eliot's fevers down, at the other end of the smallish room. Doc kept looking at her phone, with a worried expression on her face. Shelley wanted to ask her about it, but he knew better than to do so in a room full of civilians.

Doc had moved over to the desk, and was busy doing something with her back to the room. A few moments later, she sat down in the chair next to Hardison, and spoke in a low voice. "Eliot tells me that you wouldn't allow him to vaccinate you. Would you care to tell me why?"

Hardison looked down at his hands and didn't answer. She continued watching him and he swallowed hard, feeling like he needed to say something. "It's not a secret that I'm afraid of needles."

"I think there's more to it than that. You've been afraid of needles as long as I've known you, and it hasn't stopped you from allowing Eliot to treat you before. Why now?"

Hardison looked pained. "It's silly. And I'm a coward."

"Alec Hardison, you stow that right now. You are not a coward. You are one of the bravest people I know. And there's nothing silly about fear—whether we think it's a rational fear or not. Now, I'm assuming it's something from the past?"

He nodded, taking a deep breath.

"When I was five, before I went to live with my Nana, I was staying with my uncle—my dad's brother—while my parents tried to work some things out at home. My birthday fell around two weeks before school started every year, and that year, my uncle promised that he would take me out to eat for my birthday, and also shopping. The Ninja Turtles were popular that year, and I wanted the action figures."

Hardison glanced at Doc, and she nodded at him and smiled, but her eyes were deadly serious as she watched him closely.

"I was so excited when he picked me up from summer camp early. Instead of taking me shopping, he drove straight to the county Health Department. Didn't even tell me what was going on. He just led me into the treatment room, told me to sit in the chair, and left me there alone, locking the door behind him so I couldn't follow him. When the nurse came in, she found me screaming to get out and banging on the door to the lobby. I guess she thought I was a danger to myself or others, so she restrained me, facedown, on my stomach. I was terrified and so, of course, I fought back by kicking my legs and flailing. She told me to calm down and stop, and when I didn't, she left and brought a really big man back with her. He pinned my arms and legs so I couldn't move. She then yanked my pants down to my knees, and it felt like she backed up and threw the needles at me like she was throwing darts. Over and over again she jabbed me, as hard as she could, all the time telling me that if I hadn't been such a bad boy she'd have been able to give me the shots in my arm, like she normally did, and that this was my punishment for my behavior. When she was finished, she pulled my pants back up, and I was so bruised it hurt to sit down.

"She took me back out to my uncle, and told him what had happened. He thanked her, put me in the car, and drove me home. He told me that we weren't going to dinner and he wouldn't buy me the action figures because of my behavior that day. Then, as usual, I had to sit in a hard wooden chair at the kitchen table to do my homework. He took the cushion out, saying that I needed a reminder that actions have consequences, and made me sit there until my homework was done and supper was eaten. When I started to cry, he told me if I didn't stop he'd take his belt off and give me a reason to cry." He felt the heat rush to his face and was suddenly embarrassed that he had told her. He had never told anyone about that memory and he thought he knew what Eliot would say about it if he knew.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that. I think I understand better now why needles frighten you so much, and why this situation might be especially hard for you."

"Please don't tell Eliot. He won't understand."

"You might be surprised," Doc said, then, seeing the look Hardison gave her, she spoke again. "Don't worry. Your secrets are safe with me. He won't hear a thing here."

"Thank you."

She withdrew the syringe from somewhere on her person and looked at it and then at Hardison.

"Well," she finally said, "What do we do now?"

"What do you mean?" Hardison asked.

"When Shelley called me, I called the surgeon general to report it. I had no choice, as the Hepatitis is a direct result of a military mission, and it could very well be turning into a public health crisis. In a very short time, this will most likely officially become a military issue. When it does, I will be the military medical authority, and it will be my job to make sure everyone is vaccinated, civilians included."

Her eyes bored a hole into him, but her voice was gentle when she continued, "When there is imminent danger of an epidemic, military medical regulations don't recognize vaccine exemptions for personal reasons, and I can't relocate you because you are already infected. That leaves me with very few options. Two, to be exact. Both involve you receiving the vaccine. In light of what you've just told me, I'd rather it be voluntary on your part. I won't force it until I have to."

Hardison thought for a moment and then said, "Do what you have to do."

"Close your eyes. Relax."

Hardison couldn't bring himself to close his eyes, and instead stared at her.

"Trust me." She brought one hand down in front of his face, closing his eyes for him. That hand dropped to his shoulder and stayed there, lending support. Moments later, the hand disappeared briefly, and he heard Doc's voice, speaking softly to him. He felt a coolness as the smallest area of his hip was exposed to her, and then the coldness of the alcohol swab.

"So, did you ever get the Ninja Turtle action figures you wanted?"

"No. Shortly after that, my parents were killed in an accident, my uncle was arrested for writing bad checks, and I was sent to live with my Nana. After I got there, there was no money for that sort of thing."

"I see. And I believe we're finished here."

He opened his eyes to find her disposing of her materials. He hadn't felt anything. He smiled widely and said, "Thanks, Doc."

She nodded at him and smiled. "Thank you, Mister Hardison. I know you are working on the age regressions for Parker, but make sure you get some rest, too, okay?"

He nodded and went back to work. Doc's phone vibrated in her pocket, and she drew it out and looked at it again.

(0o0)

Eliot's phone beeped that he had a text message, but he didn't open his eyes. Shelley contemplated waking him, knowing that it might be important, and pertinent to the case Eliot was working on, but he also knew that Doc would likely be unhappy if he woke his friend because he needed the rest. When it beeped again two minutes later, Shelley decided the situation must be urgent, and he nudged Eliot but received no response.

Nudging him again, harder this time, Shelley also said his friend's name, "Spencer! Phone."

Doc moved over next to them, watching Eliot carefully. She placed two fingers on his wrists and counted out his pulse. Ordinarily, when she did that, Eliot's other hand would be around her wrist, not hard, but to keep her from moving until she discussed his condition with him. The fact that he hadn't made any type of response worried her.

She reached down and gently retrieved Eliot's phone from his pants pocket, knowing the messages were probably important to whatever it was the team was working on. She would have one of his team members check his phone.

"Well, his pulse is strong and he is breathing well. Elevate his legs about a foot, and keep saying his name. Let's check his blood pressure. Do what you can to bring him around. I must speak to the rest of his team. Hardison, with me."

"Yes, ma'am," the two men said in unison.

With those words, Doc Carrington made her way out to Nate's living room with Hardison in tow, where the rest of the team was gathered, watching a movie. Nate's eyes locked on hers as she moved to where they sat. Without a word, Sophie paused the movie they were watching.

"Doc?" Nate questioned, voice laced with concern. "Is everything all right?"

"I will answer your questions, all of them, but before I do, I need to talk to you. Time draws short."

"All right. Talk."

"You have a decision to make, and you don't have a lot of time to make it. I shouldn't even be telling you this, so please hear me out before you say anything. I don't know what you all are working on. Eliot didn't want us involved, for whatever reason, but I know it had something to do with the death of a young woman, whose body is in my morgue as we speak.

"When Shelley called me to report that he and Hardison were acute, I had to turn around and call the surgeon general's office for instructions. There was no choice. The hepatitis was a direct result of a previous military operation and because it didn't show up until everyone was back in the States, countless people have been exposed, which makes it a potential public health nightmare. My best guess is that the SG will declare it a military operation and place everyone involved under martial law until the threat has been contained and eradicated. What that means for you is that this area will soon be swarming with Feds, who have the power and the blessing of the government to paw through things, touch them, read them, confiscate them if they decide to do so. They will have the technology with them to match names to faces to voice prints to retinal scans to digital fingerprints. If you try to stop it or blow it up, you will find yourselves in Federal prison, or worse."

"So what do we do?"

"What I'm proposing is that you let Vance declare the military mission and report to the SG that he is doing so—that way, he'll be in charge of it, and I'll be the medical authority. Together, we can protect you somewhat. At least, we can be sure that your true identity remains hidden from the outside, and we may be able to keep you out of jail."

"Wow. What other options do we have?"

"Not many, I'm afraid. The wheels are already in motion. How do you feel about relocating, presuming, of course, that we could get you out of the city without any casualties?"'

Nate just stared at her.

"That's the prize behind Door Number 2. Door Number 3 is attempting to complete your mission under the noses of some of the greatest investigative minds in the country. I fear that won't end well."

"What if Vance can't keep us safe?"

"He can and he will, or we'll both die in the attempt. Which is preferable to what will happen if we get caught anyway, so…"

"And you are sure Vance will go along?"

"He'll do it, for me and for Eliot, if for no other reason. But if we do this, we have to know everything you can tell us about your mission. You can't hold anything back. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Then gather your team, Mister Ford, and talk among yourselves, but do it quickly. If you don't, the SG will assign someone, and it may be Vance or it may not be, but once that's done, there's no going back."

Nate looked around at Sophie, who nodded slightly. He looked at Parker, who nodded her agreement.

"Have Eliot and Hardison agreed to this plan?"

"Eliot is unconscious at the moment, which is one reason I'm doing this. As for Hardison, I brought him with me, so you can ask him yourself."

Nate looked to Hardison, who said, "I vote Vance. At least that way, I can use my technology without it being tracked and recorded, which may not happen if someone else is in charge of the mission."

Doc broke in. "Speaking of technology, Eliot's phone beeped twice, and I thought it might be important. It usually is if he has it set to beep instead of vibrate." She handed it to Nate, who passed it back to Hardison and looked back at Doc.

"All right then, it's unanimous. How do we make this request of Colonel Vance?"

"I'll take care of that."