Flashing his star, Dan moved swiftly past the nurses and doctors at the Emergency Room entrance, glancing through the openings in the curtains surrounding the beds, listening for the familiar timbre of his colleague's voice. Unable to locate him, Dan returned to the nurse's station.
"Benjamin Johnson, can you tell me where he is, please?"
The middle-aged nurse dropped her gaze to the clipboard on the table. "He's been moved into a room – 2B at the end of the hall." She pointed in the right direction.
"Thank you," Dan said curtly, already on the move. The door was shut and he pushed it open without knocking, not sure what he was going to find. He stopped short. Johnson's eyes were closed and he was obviously non-responsive; in addition to all the tubes and wires he was attached to, his mouth and nose were obscured by a large oxygen mask. Haseejian was sitting in a chair near the head of the bed, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. He looked up when he heard the door open.
Neither of them said anything for a few seconds then Dan cleared his throat. "I, ah, I was just wondering where you went to." He gestured towards Johnson with his head. "Has he woken up at all?"
Haseejian shook his head, looking at the floor once more. "I just thought I'd wait in here in case he did. He might say something when he's waking up…" He looked back up and shrugged. "You never know."
Dan nodded. "Sounds good. Hey, ah, now that I'm up," he said with a chuckle, "want me to go get you a cup of coffee?"
Haseejian smiled warmly. "Yeah, thanks, I'd appreciate that."
Returning the smile, Dan let the door close behind him and made his way back down the corridor. He exhaled loudly in relief.
# # # # #
Steve was standing beside the bed when Jeannie and Maggie pushed the door open and entered in a controlled rush. Maggie's worried look evaporated quickly when both men turned toward the door and smiled, Mike's eyes lighting up. She stood at the door for a second, gathering herself with a deep inhale, as Jeannie pushed past her and approached the bed. "You look great this morning, Mike," she said happily as she leaned over to give her father a kiss.
"I feel good," Mike smiled back, his eyes barely leaving Maggie.
Jeannie glanced up at Steve and his look told her that all was as good as it could be right now, and she instantly relaxed. Jeannie turned to look at Maggie, who managed to pull her own eyes away from Mike, and the younger woman's expression reinforced the positive vibes that had been emanating from her fiance since she entered the room.
Jeannie looked at the younger man again. "Steve, Maggie and I wanted to get here as soon as we could so we didn't stop for breakfast. Why don't you come with me right now and we'll go get some? Leave Maggie here with Mike…"
Steve, who was having a hard time looking away from Maggie's intense stare towards the bed, shook his head quickly and glanced down at Jeannie. "Ah, what? Oh, ah, yeah…great idea." He looked at Mike and smiled. "We'll, ah, we'll see you two in a little bit?"
Jeannie had taken him by the hand and pulled him towards the door. As it closed slowly behind them, Maggie, her face aglow, finally approached the bed. "You sure you're okay?" she asked as she got closer.
Mike nodded, smiling happily. "I'm doing great, and even better now that you're here."
She reached out and put a hand on his cheek. "You, ah, you got room in that bed for a visitor?"
"Oh, I think I can manage," he said with a chuckle, carefully starting to shift to the side of the bed, trying not to grimace.
She slipped off her shoes and gingerly climbed onto the bed, lying on her side. He couldn't wrap his arm around her so he placed both hands on his stomach, and as she leaned against his arm, her head against his shoulder, she put her hand over his; he rested his cheek against the top of her head.
After several long seconds, he said softly, his voice laced with warmth and irony, "This is a big day for me, you know."
"Oh," she responded, a delighted, feigned innocence in her voice, "and why is that?"
"I get to stand up and go for a walk today."
"Well, you know what the Chinese say – 'A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.'"
"Well, I don't know if it's going to end up being a thousand miles but today is definitely gonna be the first step."
Maggie's grip on his hand tightened, and her voice became low and suddenly serious. "No matter how long your journey is going to be, Mike, no matter how many steps it takes or where you eventually end up, I am going to be beside you the entire way. I want you to know that."
She heard him take a quick breath and hold it, then she felt his lips against the top of her head. "I'm counting on it, beautiful," he said quietly as he laid his cheek against her head once more.
# # # # #
"So he's really doing okay?" Jeannie asked as they got into Mike's car. She had given Steve the keys and he settled in behind the wheel.
"He's got a ways to go but he's handling it pretty well right now. Who knows if that's gonna last but as of this moment, he's trying to come to grips with it and, yeah, we had a good talk."
"I am so relieved. Maggie and I were really worried last night."
"Well, it's not all behind us yes, but… Anyway, he asked me to let you guys know that he doesn't want to talk to anyone about all this except me for now, so if you two…"
"Understood," Jeannie said quickly as Steve took the car out of the parking lot. "Maggie's one smart lady, she'll figure that out." She looked across the front seat with a warm smile. "Thanks, Steve, I don't know what any of us would do without you."
He chuckled. "You're welcome. But to be honest, I don't know what I'd do without Mike so I'm doing this for my own benefit as well as yours, you know?" As he turned a corner near the hospital, he said casually "Ah, where are we going?"
"Oh, right, Mama's. I want to get Mike some oatmeal this morning, help build up his strength."
Steve nodded. He toyed with the idea of telling her what had happened that morning, but Dr. Carter had assured him that Mike's discomfort was temporary and nothing to worry about. He really hoped that was going to be true.
# # # # #
"Are you ready?" Dr. Webster asked.
Mike, dressed in his burgundy bathrobe, and now wearing his own slippers, was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking a little apprehensive. He looked up and nodded.
"Okay," said the specialist, "let's do this." He nodded at Dr, Carter, and between them they placed one hand under Mike's arms, the other under his elbows and, as Mike stood, helped him to his feet and steadied him. The older man held his breath until he was upright, then let it out slowly, as if testing both his stability and his pain threshold.
Removing their hands, but staying within easy reach, the doctors moved away slightly and Mike looked up, smiling. His eyes quickly swept the small group looking on – Maggie, Jeannie, Steve - all of whom were staring at him in relief.
"How does it feel?" Jeannie asked hopefully.
Mike nodded with a facial shrug. "Pretty good…so far." He glanced at Webster. "Let's just not stand here, I want to go for a walk," he said with a chuckle, and the smiling doctor nodded his approval.
"Slow and easy now," Webster said, hovering as Mike took a step towards Maggie.
He crossed the three short paces towards her, staring at her smiling face, and when he got to her, threaded his arm through hers. "Maggie Jarris," he said formally, "would you care to go for a walk?"
Her eyebrows shot up and she cocked her head. "Why, Michael Stone, I would love to."
The others chuckled and Steve looked at Jeannie with a broad grin. As the older couple started slowly towards the door, Steve called out merrily, "Remember your curfew!"
# # # # #
Dan exited the elevator and turned in the direction of Mike's room. He was almost there when the door opened and Steve and Jeannie exited into the corridor, laughing and smiling.
"Hey, you two, what's going on?"
"Oh, Dan," said Jeannie with a warm look when she saw him. "Mike's doing great. He just went for a walk and now he and Maggie are having some quiet time."
Steve grinned and nodded with delicious mischief written all over his face, and Dan immediately understood. "Quiet time," Steve whispered suggestively and Jeannie slapped him on the arm, feigning annoyance.
Dan chuckled. "Wow, you don't know how great it is to hear that."
"What's up with you?" Steve asked. "Are you still working with Norm?"
"Ah, yeah, we caught a lead on some junkie who may know where Stanton is but the guy OD'd and is barely hanging on down in Emerg. Norm's keeping vigil." He looked at Jeannie apologetically and she put a hand on his arm.
"I know you guys are doing your best. One good thing, Mike hasn't said one word, to me or Maggie anyway, about the kid who shot him. Has he said anything to you, Steve?"
The professor shook his head. "Not a word. Not surprising, though, with everything else he's been going through. That'll come though, I have no doubt about that. That cop instinct will kick in again."
"Well, hopefully by then we can tell him we have the kid in custody."
# # # # #
Dan pushed the wooden door open, anxious to tell Haseejian the good news about Mike. But the homicide detective wasn't there, and Johnson looked different, almost awake.
After a split second, Dan stepped back out of the room and jogged to the nurse's station. "Excuse me, miss," he called at a young nurse, "excuse me, can you help me?"
She turned with raised eyebrows, and he held up his star. "The police officer that was in Room 2B, do you know when he left?"
"The sergeant? Yes, he left just a couple of minutes ago. He seemed to be in quite a hurry."
"Do you have any idea where he went?" Dan asked anxiously.
"No, sorry, I don't. But someone said he dropped something on the way out. Just a second." She crossed behind the counter and reached under it, picking up a black wastepaper basket and putting it on the counter. She took out a couple of small crumpled pieces of white paper and unfolded them. She tossed a couple aside and then, "Ah, this is it." She handed the paper to Dan.
He stared at it, struggling to make out the faint handwriting. Then, nodding vigorously, he started down the corridor. "Thank you!" he called over his shoulder.
Eschewing the elevators, he took the stairs, racing down to the parking lot. He glanced around as he charged through the door into the bright December sunlight, looking for Norm's car, the green Galaxy sedan. It was nowhere to be found. He hurried to his own car and got behind the wheel, muttering to himself in frustration.
Dan slammed the car into reverse and squealed from the parking space, cursing the fact that his personal car didn't have a scanner and he had no way of calling for back-up or to send out an APB. And he knew that stopping to do that would amount to a death sentence for somebody – Haseejian or Stanton. Right now, he knew, the odds were fifty-fifty.
He vaguely knew where the exact address was and he drove recklessly in that direction. Not having lights or a siren, he was at the mercy of the light Sunday afternoon crowd, and he prayed that he wouldn't cross paths with an intercepting black-and-white.
His luck held and he wove his way to the Mission district without any trouble. He glanced once more at the address on piece of paper on the seat beside him, realizing he was very near. He began to scan the alleys and cross-streets for any sign of Haseejian's car.
Passing between two buildings, he thought he caught a glimpse of a green fender. He slammed to a stop, threw his car in reverse then accelerated up the alley. The Galaxy was parked haphazardly across a sidestreet, it's driver's side door open, it's grill pointed at a run-down flophouse.
Dan pulled to a stop, turning off and exiting his own vehicle in one quick movement. As he sprinted towards the building, he realized almost peripherally that the Galaxy was still running, the radio still broadcasting.
He pulled his gun and approached the front door cautiously. With his .38 pointed up, he grabbed the doorknob with his right hand and pulled it towards himself. The door was unlocked and opened easily and, thankfully, quietly. He stepped inside quickly, listening for anything to tell him that Haseejian was in the building.
Suddenly, from an upper floor, he heard two loud bangs, like a foot against a door. He was immediately on the move, up the flight of stairs to the second floor, hoping against hope that he could get to the Armenian detective as quickly as possible.
He had just reached the second floor landing when two loud booms reached his ears and he stopped, gasping for breath. "No, no, no," he yelled over and over to himself as he pulled himself together and continued to race up the stairs. But there was no mistaking the sound that a .38 makes in the confines of small room.