Chapter 17
It worked, Michael exulted to himself as he made his way down a dank, lonely corridor in the bowels of OSI-Los Angeles. Of course, like anything else he'd ever set his mind to, he'd known that it would. The bullet that had torn through Jaime's brain as a matter of course disrupted her normal brain waves and her nerves were unable to bridge the gaps the bullet had caused. His surgery had initially kept her alive - and his regeneration therapy had enabled her to walk and talk again - but the injury had devastated the paths that normal brain waves should have taken. With his discovery, Michael had found a way to force those vital connections and in a sense re-route her brain waves, returning to Jaime the normalcy that even more surgery might not have provided.
It was much the same way that Anna Kingsley had manipulated her victims' brains, but in reverse - with good intentions, rather than evil ones. Michael's discovery - and his plan to use it - could help so many, and (he hoped) at least in part make up for the horrific things Anna had forced him to do.
Michael's first recipient was snuggled close to her husband, sharing the same over-stuffed armchair as they watched Becca scoot around the living room, flitting from one toy to the next. Their anger and argument had been forgotten (for now) in the excitement of Jaime's apparent recovery.
''Mama! Daddy! Bunn-eee!'' Becca crowed happily, dragging her lop-eared bunny into the living room.
''And to think I almost missed all of this,'' Jaime sighed, contentedly.
Steve couldn't stop looking at her. Just that morning, she'd been pale, shaky and visibly weak. Now, it was like he was holding a different woman in his arms. However it had happened (whatever Michael had done), Jaime was back.
Rudy found himself questioning his own ethics again - and as always seemed to be the case when he questioned his ethics, it had to do with Michael. He'd once looked the other way (in Colorado Springs) while Michael developed a relationship with his patient. Was it inappropriate? Maybe. But Jaime had benefited at the time from a close working relationship with her surgeon. Was it unethical? In Rudy's mind, yes. And yet he'd looked the other way.
When he'd been hospitalized at Clayton and woke from a sedative-enforced rest to find out Michael had been released from prison and returned to National - to Rudy's own hospital - to perform life-or-death surgery on the very woman he'd been imprisoned for kidnapping, terrorizing...and raping, Rudy had not stopped the surgery. Unethical? Absolutely And yet what choice did they have? Jaime's brain had been ravaged by that bullet! Michael had not only saved her; at the time, he'd restored walking, talking and the ability to reason, to a patient who by all rights should have been dead. Rudy had looked the other way (and allowed Michael to continue his work at National) because of the good it seemed he was doing. One of Rudy's 'kids' was still in this world, living, breathing and raising her beautiful daughter. That was as important to him as any breach in ethics.
And now what has Michael done? Rudy fretted as he paced his living room from one end to the other and searched his mind for answers. It was without any doubt unethical. He and Michael had been seeing Jaime in tandem. On the ride over to the Austin's, they'd discussed Jaime's treatment plan in full (or so he'd thought) and had completed it as planned. Except Michael had other plans of his own, without Rudy's knowledge. He'd used what could only be an untested, experimental device on an unstable patient...by sneaking up behind her back! And yet, this worst of all breeches of ethics had produced seemingly breathtaking results.
Should ethical exceptions be made in the face of brilliance?
Oscar's lips were pursed thin as he sped toward his office. An alert Security man had phoned through the chain of command when he'd spotted Michael Marchetti headed for the unit of containment cells. The guard hadn't stopped him, as he had sufficient credentials to be there, but Oscar confirmed for him that none of their prisoners were requiring medical treatment.
What was Marchetti up to...and would Oscar get there in time to find out?
Michael had ducked into a tiny downstairs conference room to elude any Security men who might've been sent to try and stop him. As luck would have it, he'd already come across a holding cell guard whom he'd become friendly with during the time he'd been held there, before his trial. Now, thanks to the sympathetic guard - and Michael's own ability to talk his way through any given situation - everything was ready. The prisoner had been secured to the bed, facing the far wall (away from the door), unable to turn around or raise their arms in defense. His guard-friend opened the cell and Michael stepped inside. He removed his new device from the inner pocket of his lab coat and it made the same strange metallic sound when he turned it on.
''Hello, Anna,'' he said softly.