a special high-tech phone she’d brought on the mission for just this purpose, Grace pressed in the number for their commanding officer, Major Drew Connell, who expected their call.
“About time you reported in,” came his voice immediately after the first ring. He was in a time zone three hours later than theirs, so it would be 0930 at Ft. Lukman. Grace knew, though, that he referred not to the time today, but that they had been around a couple of days already.
“Ah, but I’m sure you loved the suspense of waiting,” she said lightly. “Only—well, nothing much to report so far, sir.” She gave a rundown of her first couple of days at the medical center, followed by her late walk-through last night with Tilly. “The lab floor, where biohazard materials are taken to be tested, was pretty quiet. I only saw one person—a doctor. He seemed reluctant to talk about why he was there, so I’ll find out more about him, but he’s my only potential suspect so far.” Grace didn’t mention she had a personal history with that doctor, although she suspected it would eventually have to be revealed.
Next, Autumn gave her report. Her cover as a communications officer allowed her to access the base’s aircraft hangars. She hadn’t been around long enough to explore them all, but she’d seen nothing suspicious in those she’d visited so far.
Ruby, too, had a background in aviation, so she had also started checking out the base’s facilities, but hadn’t yet done anything worth mentioning, other than fiddling with some of the security cameras on the night of the full moon.
Kristine finished. “Bailey and I walked the hospital grounds several times, especially near the remote storage area at the far end of one of the parking lots, and I showed Grace the tunnel leading to it—a way the test materials are transported. I’ve talked to a few military guards who hang out in that area, and I assume some materials are being stored there now. Nothing notable about the building housing the incinerator, either.”
“Good job, all of you,” Drew Connell said. “Now, get busy. We need results as quickly as possible.”
“How’s Melanie?” Grace asked. Drew’s wife, Dr. Melanie Harding-Connell, a veterinarian, had introduced Grace to Alpha Force. She was pregnant with the couple’s first baby. She wasn’t a shifter, but Drew was.
“Getting along fine,” Drew said. “She’s due within the next few weeks.”
“Our best to all of you,” Grace said, and hung up. She’d be interested in learning all about the baby’s arrival in this sort-of mixed marriage.
A short while later, Grace walked with Kristine to the medical center. They’d left both dogs in Grace’s apartment to keep each other company, since there would be no therapy visits today. Neither would Kristine snoop about the hospital grounds. They’d both just perform the jobs that were their covers, as would Autumn and Ruby.
Grace was glad that this assignment made use of her background as a doctor. Alpha Force was, not surprisingly, a small unit, and its members handled whatever missions they were assigned. She knew that recently Lt. Patrick Worley, also a physician, had played the role of a dog musher in Alaska to apprehend some pretty nasty bad guys.
Once at the hospital, Grace went to the doctors’ lounge, where she again donned a clean white medical jacket over her scrubs and pinned on her name tag. Then she started her rounds, saying hello to the nurses at their stations and visiting rooms of patients she’d already been assigned.
And watching for other doctors … but no sign of Simon this morning. At least not yet. Would he try to avoid her?
That wasn’t like the Simon she’d known—until he’d transferred to another school.
The first patient Grace saw was a woman whose child had brought home Fifth disease from school—a common illness causing a facial rash. By the time the redness appeared, the illness was no longer contagious, but it was easy to pass to others before symptoms were obvious. It was mostly harmless. However, this particular mother had suffered severe anemia as a result and had been hospitalized. Fortunately she was doing well, and Grace didn’t spend much time with her.
When she went back into the hall, a nurse hurried over. “Dr. Andreas, the E.R. called and requested that all infectious disease specialists head there. Only two of you are on duty right now. Several patients were brought in with something that might be contagious and they need a fast diagnosis.”
Grace hurried down the stairs to the E.R. There, she asked the nurse in charge about the situation for which she had been summoned and was directed to an area down the main hallway. When she walked into the large preliminary examination room, she noted several nurses including Kristine, six apparent patients, and Simon, who stalked out of one of the patient cubicles separated from each other by long blue curtains. He wore gloves and a sanitary mask covering the lower part of his face, but there was no mistaking his muscular build and dark hair.
Grace quickly donned a mask and gloves, too, then approached as he removed his gloves and scrubbed his hands at the large sink. “What does it look like, doctor?”
Simon stepped back. Grace was struck by the intensity and concern in his golden-brown eyes. “Symptoms include diarrhea, vomiting, fever and severe abdominal cramps. The six who just came in are a flight instructor at the base, his family and a couple of neighbors, who ate take-out food from a restaurant a few miles from this area last night. Chicken salad, they said. My suspicion is shigellosis, since that restaurant had problems with it a while back—sanitary conditions suspect, cited by the local board of health. Could be something else, though. Their symptoms seem a lot more severe than what we saw before. We’ll need tests run.”
“Life-threatening?” Grace asked tersely. At Simon’s nod, she hurried into the first examining station.
The next half hour was busy—especially because several other patients with similar symptoms were brought in. Whether it was a severe dysentery-like outbreak of the highly infectious shigellosis or something different—something worse—it appeared to have resulted from food from the same dining facility. Grace directed that lab techs obtain fecal and other samples from each patient and take them to be tested. She assumed that Simon did the same.
The smells in the ER area were nauseating, especially, Grace assumed, because of her enhanced senses even while in human form. But as a doctor, she had encountered odors as bad, or even worse, before. After examining each patient and directing the medical tests to be taken, Grace moved on to the next. Simon appeared equally busy.
Eventually, a lab tech returned with a preliminary result. Simon had apparently been correct: shigellosis, but a highly toxic strain, perhaps a mutated bacterial version. Almost all the patients appeared ill enough to be admitted to the medical facility. Grace prescribed antibiotics—hoping that this strain was not resistant—as well as other medications to ease the severe symptoms.
After a while, the worst of the emergency seemed over, although a couple of patients remained in serious condition. Grace’s adrenaline was still pumping, but she felt she’d done well in helping the majority of the admittees. She’d keep a close watch on those who were the most ill.
She’d also been highly impressed while observing Simon in action. He might be sharp-tongued and enigmatic when dealing with her, but she truly admired his gentle, caring attitude while dealing with suffering patients.
What a conglomeration of contrasts this man still appeared to be. Was he a viable suspect in the biohazards thefts?
She peeled off her latest pair of gloves as well as the mask, and headed again toward the room’s main sink. Unsurprisingly, Simon was there, too.
“What a morning!” she exclaimed. “It’ll be interesting to get a case history on each of them. Confirm that the infection came from the restaurant, although that seems pretty clear.”
“Right.” He didn’t look at her as he dried his hands on a paper towel from a sanitary container.
“We’ll have to keep a close watch still, of course, to make sure that the antibiotics we prescribed are effective.