Kayla drummed her fingertips against the countertop as she studied the latest deliveries to the lab. Dr. Bishop had received two boxes containing samples of a virus - a new flu strain that had been found in Eastern Russia. Some replacement parts for the centrifuge had also arrived. And Carly had received another four, unidentified boxes from the lab in Washington, D.C.
What is the ISA up to? Kayla asked silently. The continued deliveries of these mystery packages only solidified Kayla's belief that the ISA was using Carly. But the nature of the research remained a secret.
"Kayla, where can I find lenses for the scanning electron microscope?" The question came from Brian Rothschild, the lab's new researcher. Kayla had been surprised to find that the lab had hired someone new, particularly when Carly had moved away from virus research to her new, mystery assignment, but Kayla had realized that the two things were probably not merely coincidence.
She smiled at Brian. "Over in the supply cabinet. Second shelf on the right."
For a moment, she appreciated the return to normalcy that a day in the lab provided. Since she and Steve had returned from Georgia, she had tried to focus on her work. Admittedly, there was not that much to do at the lab since she had completed the grant proposal, but the new Trauma Center was set to open in a few weeks, and Kayla wanted to get ahead on her lab work so she could take some shifts when the Trauma Center opened.
Oh, who are you kidding, Kayla Johnson?
She sighed. The truth was that work was a welcome distraction, a way of not thinking about what she was about to do.
After that Saturday night in Georgia when she had confessed to Steve about what happened with Cal, he had pushed her to seek help. He had broached the idea on the drive back to Charleston and, though she initially had resisted, she quickly realized that just telling Steve the truth was not enough.
That realization had come at the Charlotte airport. As they were dropping off the rental car, a truck backfired. Kayla had frozen - the day turned into night; Cal's angry threat echoed in her ear; the cold metal of his gun pressed against her temple. She had come out of the flashback to find herself clutched tightly in Steve's arm, but otherwise not sure where she was.
"Okay, I'll get help," she had whispered in his ear.
So, in an hour, she had her first appointment with Dr. Friedman.
The thought made Kayla shiver slightly, but she reminded herself of what Steve had said. He had assured her that she would be fine, that the treatment was not that difficult. But she also pictured how drained Steve always seemed after his sessions. That told her the treatment was not as easy as he claimed.
Kayla shook her head. She needed to focus on work right now. Her appointment with Dr. Friedman would come soon enough. For now, she would try not to think about it.
Behind her, she heard Brian speak. Kayla could hear the concern in his voice as he said, "Dr. Manning?"
Spinning around, Kayla looked at Carly, who was slumped over a stack of papers and shaking. She seemed to be gasping for breath. Even before Kayla could move, Brian raced forward and grabbed Carly.
"What's wrong?" Kayla said, as she crossed the room. Brian was helping Carly to a seated position on the floor, her back against the workbench where she had been reading.
Brian looked up. "I think she's hyperventilating."
Crouching low, Kayla grabbed Carly's hand and quickly detected a racing pulse. "Carly. . . ." She spoke in the calmest voice she could muster. "Can you hear me?" When Carly nodded, Kayla said, "Try to calm down. Slow breaths."
That did not seem to work. Carly continued to gasp for breath.
Kayla glanced quickly at Brian, she said, "Get an oxygen tank and mask." The lab kept oxygen on hand in case of emergency. He rushed to the emergency supply cabinet, returned quickly, and handed Kayla the mask. She placed it over Carly's mouth.
For an instant, Kayla had a flash of memory - a memory of holding a mask over Shane's face as he begged her to tell Kim he loved her.
She forced the memory from her mind and focused on Carly. Brian had turned the valve on the cannister. "Breathe in," Kayla said. "Slowly. In. . . now out. . . ."
It began to work. Carly's breathing slowed. After a minute or two, her eyes fixed on Kayla and then reached for the mask. Kayla pulled it away.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
Carly nodded. "Yes. . . ." She seemed to flush. "I don't know what came over me." She started to stand, but Brian put a hand on her shoulder.
"Whoa, don't try to move," he said.
"I'm fine," Carly insisted, pushing his hand away. Slowly, and shaking, she rose to her feet.
Kayla stood up also. "Carly, what happened?"
"I don't know," Carly said. "I guess I just got woozy."
Kayla knew better. She helped Carly to a chair and asked Brian to get some water. Once again, Kayla checked Carly's pulse, but it seemed to be close to normal. Frowning, she said, "You should probably go see Neil or Marcus and have them look you over."
Her voice low, sounding almost embarrassed, Carly whispered, "I don't need to. I . . . It was just a little anxiety. I panicked a little."
Carly's words caused Kayla to do a double-take. "Panicked" did not sound like Carly. She always seemed so calm and collected.
"Are you sure?" Kayla asked.
"Yes. I'm fine. I . . . I, uh, should get back to my work." Carly started to stand.
Kayla was closer to the workbench where Carly had been working, so she turned and reached for the stack of papers on the bench.
"Don't!" Carly barked. "Don't touch them."
Kayla froze, as Carly pushed her aside, hastily stacked the papers, and pulled them close. Then she turned and appeared to blush again. "I'm . . . I'm sorry. Nobody's supposed to see these." Her hands shook as she clasped the documents. One page was visible and Kayla spotted the words "CLASSIFIED - TOP SECRET" along its length and parts of other words, "-ase Scen-"
At that moment, Carly glanced down and saw the exposed paper. Her hand trembling, she slid it out of view. Then she looked down at the stack and seemed to shudder.
Whatever is in those papers terrifies her, Kayla realized. But before Kayla could ask what was going on, Brian reappeared. He held out a glass for Carly and said, "Here's some water."
"Just set it down," she replied, curtly. "I said I'm fine." Turning back around, the papers still clutched tightly to her chest, she said, "Thank you. I appreciate your help, but I'm fine now. I think I'll finish up in my office."
Kayla watched Carly walk away, but this time it was Kayla who shuddered. She knew Carly well enough to know that very few things could terrify her. Those papers - papers Kayla was sure had something to do with the ISA - had caused a panic attack and were still scaring Carly.
"Carly," Kayla called out. "If you need to discuss anything-"
But Carly shook her head as she stepped into her small office. "No, I'm fine. There's nothing to talk about."
And in a voice that Carly probably did not think Kayla could hear, Carly added, "It's nothing I can talk about."