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Chapter 3-Borderline
The drive to D.C. General conjured feelings of despair and panic. B.A. swerved the van between moving cars as he made his way to the hospital while Hannibal sat in the back seat next to Face. Attempting to save time, Hannibal and B.A. placed Face on the seat close to the sliding door. Laying the backrest all the way down, half of his body lay down flat in order for Hannibal to better assess the wound. Before leaving the restaurant he managed to quickly pick up the used tablecloths and load up on fresh clean ones from the storage room. Picking up the used ones was a way to prevent police from investigating who was the injured person.
"How's he doing, Hannibal?" BA almost yelled.
"Not good," Hannibal replied trying to stop the bleeding by applying pressure on the wound with the clean tablecloths. He sighed in frustration. Moving Face before Leibster's attempted hit, had not been a good idea. The wound bled profusely. Even by applying pressure, Face continued bleeding. The Colonel couldn't get it to stop.
Face's breathing came out in gasps. He was pale and the hint of blue on his lips grew darker. At that point, Hannibal wasn't sure if his second in command would make it, "How far are we?" he asked B.A. as he tried to keep his cool, not wanting to make the man any more nervous than he already was.
"We two blocks away Hannibal," the muscle man replied. "Almost there."
"Get us there faster Sergeant," Hannibal ordered before looking back at Face who now trembled. "Come in kid. We're almost there. Hold on."
Hannibal thought Face hadn't heard him because he was surprised when the younger man opened his eyes and looked straight at him, "Hanni..bal?"
"Face," the Colonel whispered as he checked his pulse, damn it's too fast, "We're almost there. I need you to hold on just a little longer."
The lieutenant looked at him, but Hannibal could see Face's resignation.
"I…can't…"
"Yes, you can," Hannibal's voice became firmer. "That's an order!"
Face just looked at his commander and gave him a small smile, "Okay."
Hannibal smiled a little, "Okay kid. You're going to be fine."
But Face suddenly looked up as a tremor took a hold of him. His eyes shockingly became distant.
"Face!"
"Murdock… Fran…"
"They're fine," the Colonel answered with a nod. "Everyone's fine."
"Not, his fault…tell him," he swallowed hard.
"Okay…okay," Hannibal replied. "Don't worry about that now."
"Ellen?" his gasps became stronger.
"B.A.?" Hannibal yelled.
"About to turn the corner," the man answered as he pushed down on the accelerator.
"Face?" Hannibal pleaded as he watched the lieutenant's eyes growing even more distant. "Face, you've have to stay with me."
"Tell…tell Ellen that I'm…sorry," Face said as his eyes glazed over.
The Colonel knew that look and he didn't like it, "I need you to hold on kid!"
The man's shallow breathing increased. A sudden soft smile appeared on his lips as he whispered, "Hann…"
Suddenly, Face gasped heavily and he began convulsing violently.
"B.A.!" Hannibal yelled trying to hold him still.
"We here!" the man shouted as he parked the van, opened the door and dove off his seat.
Hannibal heard him yell for help as the he slid open the van door, "Ey! My friend's hurt! We need help!"
"Help me hold him," Hannibal said as he tried to stop Face's convulsions. Doing as ordered, B.A. tried his best. It took seconds, but it felt like hours before the medical team ran out of the double doors of the emergency room with a stretcher and the medical equipment.
They were ordered to move out of the way as nurses transported Face from the van seat to the stretcher before wheeling him away.
Looking as their friend was taken away, B.A. asked, "He gonna be alright, right Hannibal?"
A Colonel was to tell his officers that everything was going to turn out alright. But, for the first time in the entire night, Colonel John "Hannibal" Smith just didn't know. Wanting to say the right words to his teammate, Hannibal found himself speechless.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
It had been well over two and a half hours when Murdock and Frankie showed up to D.C. General. They quickly entered Emergency and asked for the waiting room where they assumed Hannibal and B.A. were. They were right. A nurse guided them to a small empty waiting room. Hannibal quietly looked out the window that faced the street. B.A. sat on one of the chairs at the corner of the room.
"Jonny," Frankie called as he walked in. He watched the Colonel turn around to face him and Murdock, "Any news?"
Hannibal shook his head, "No, nothing. They took him into surgery almost immediately. Haven't heard anything yet. How did you two leave things at the restaurant?"
"Everything's fine," Murdock replied with a nod. "We took care of Officer Henderson."
"Yeah," Frankie continued sounding tired, but angry, "We left him tied to a lamp post across from the restaurant so when Gina and her father told the police about Tommy's participation in the mob hit, they'd be able to find him easily."
"The police were already handcuffin' the three bastards right in front of Leibster," Murdock continued. "We watched from afar. If we went inside the restaurant, we wouldn't have been able to make it here this fast. Gina and her father stayed behind giving their accounts to the police."
"Good," Hannibal nodded. But he couldn't hide the tone of worry.
Murdock watched Hannibal nod before he took a seat. He expected him to be quiet. Hell, he didn't expect anyone to ask more questions, especially after waiting to see if Face pulled out of surgery.
But, what worried Murdock the most was Hannibal's demeanor and the look in his eyes as they entered the room. It was a strange look. A look that he seldom saw in his leader.
As Frankie took a seat close to B.A., Murdock sat next to Hannibal and asked, "How bad is he?"
"Bad," Hannibal sighed heavily. "He convulsed by the time we arrived."
"Oh," Murdock shuddered, "This is all my fault. I made him do it. He didn't even want to, but I pushed! And now…"
"How did this happen?" Hannibal asked as he gently put his hand over the Captain's shoulder to calm him. It wasn't an accusatory tone, but one of curiosity. Murdock felt that he just wanted to understand.
"There's been a series of robberies on that block in the last couple of weeks," the Captain began as he looked to the floor. "I honestly thought they were just common thieves, you know," he paused for a moment.
Hannibal didn't interrupt or push for answers. He knew Murdock harbored feelings of guilt over the situation. The Colonel was not about to make him feel any worse by pushing for information.
Not feeling any threating repercussions from his leader, Murdock continued, "I asked Face and Frankie to help me catch the bastards. Face came up with the plan," he laughed mirthlessly, "It was a good plan. We had them. We had them! It's just that we didn't know there was another man in another table."
"Their leader," Hannibal answered.
Murdock nodded, "I didn't give him any time to study the surroundings. Colonel, if he doesn't make it–"
"He'll make it, Murdock," Hannibal's firm voice replied.
"You didn't seem too sure a moment ago," Murdock replied looking at his leader with pained filled eyes.
Looking down, Hannibal replied avoiding the comment, "You know, on our way here, he came to for a moment and asked if you and Frankie were alright."
Murdock perked and began listening as Hannibal continued.
"Yeah," he nodded with a sad smile, "And he told me to tell you that it wasn't your fault."
Murdock held the tears that threatened to come out of his eyes as he continued listening.
"He also called out to Ellen," Hannibal stated. "Said something about apologizing to her?"
Murdorck's gaze turned to Hannibal, "Gina told me that he said the same thing at the restaurant."
"I wonder what he meant," Hannibal said. He was about to continue the conversation when they all watched a woman walk in to the waiting room.
"John Smith?"
Immediately, Hannibal stood up and walked up to the woman, "That's me."
"Melissa Cartright, I'm the surgeon that performed your nephew's surgery," she said with a serious tone in her voice. She was a petite older woman, probably in her late forties, early fifties with dark blonde hair and hazel eyes. Wearing green scrubs, she had taken off her cap and held it in her right hand.
"How is he?"
"He's in critical condition," she answered with a firm but empathetic tone. "I'm going to be observing him very closely for the next few days. The worse of the damage occurred in the spleen. There was no way I could repair it so I had no choice but to remove it."
She noticed that although relieved that his "nephew" was alive, the man hadn't like the fact she had to remove an organ. Noticing that he wanted her to continue, the doctor resumed, "Because the spleen bleeds heavily, he went into stage two shock much faster than other conditions that involve shootings. Time played against him as well."
"What do you mean by that?" Frankie suddenly asked as he and BA made their way to the doctor.
The woman looked at the man who asked the question and answered, "There are three stages of shock. Stage one is when low blood flow results in the heart beating faster. Blood vessels throughout the body become slightly smaller so that the kidneys can help retain fluid in the circulatory system. It's the body's mechanism to survive until the flow of blood goes back to normal. In stage two, however, these methods of compensation fail. The body can no longer sustain itself and other aspects of the system break down. Oxygen deprivation begins to affect the heart, lungs and the brain. The patient begins to feel confused and disoriented and possible hallucination sets in."
The woman then turned to Hannibal and addressed him, "When your nephew came in, he was borderline stage three, his heart was beginning to fail, so were his kidneys and lung functions. We were able to reverse the effects, but there were complications."
"What complications?" B.A. suddenly asked.
"Lack of oxygen to the brain," the doctor replied regretfully.
Murdock's eyes widened in horror, "Are you…are you saying he's brain dead?"
The doctor shook her head, "No. In his case, not enough oxygen reached the brain and it began to swell. In order for me to reverse the effects, I had to induced him into a coma. This process should allow the brain enough time to naturally heal itself."
"Jesus," Frankie ran his hand over his head in frustration.
"Doctor," Hannibal interjected, "Is he going to make it?"
The woman remained quiet for a moment to carefully word her answer, "Every patient is different Mr. Smith. Some patients with similar conditions heal within days, others take a little longer. And then there are those who just don't recover. I don't know about your nephew. That's why, I'll be monitoring him closely for the new few days and I'll keep you posted with everything that I know. All I can tell you right now is to be with him as much as possible."
"When can we see him?" Murdock asked.
"At this moment, he is being transferred into a private room. Give us about fifteen minutes and I'll have one of our nurses call you when he is ready."
"Thank you, doctor," Hannibal replied as he shook the woman's hand.
"Mr. Smith, I can promise that I will do everything that I can to increase his chances," the doctor answered as she took her other hand and wrapped it around the one she shook. "Sometimes we just have to have a little faith."
Hannibal nodded, but didn't reply.
Once the woman left, the rest of the team gathered.
"What now, Hannibal?" BA asked without even looking at them. The Colonel could tell he was trying to keep his emotions in check.
"When the nurse returns, we'll go see him," he began. "If he's being put in a private room, I'm sure Stockwell is already aware of his condition and worked out a way to keep Face away to prevent identification."
"How do you know?" Frankie asked.
"I never gave out my name to anyone and I never told anyone Face was my nephew," Hannibal admitted. "Let me find out what else Stockwell told the hospital. Come and get me when we are ready to go up. I'm going to the van to place a call to Stockwell."
Frankie and B.A. walked back to their chair when Murdock suddenly told them, "I'll be right back, I need to make a call."
"To who?" The big muscled man asked.
He couldn't tell them yet, mostly because he didn't think either would approve of the call, "I'm calling Gina to see how she's doing."
Feeling comfortable with the answer, B.A. turned and went back to wait, talking to Frankie from time to time about the ordeal that just had just passed.
Murdock then went to the closest pay phone, found a quarter in his pocket and began to dial.