First Do No Harm

by L Jan Eira

  Jack now frantically raced up the stairs toward the master bedroom. He took the stairs two by two, then three by three. He did so silently, hoping to use the element of surprise to his advantage. However, it was he who was surprised. When he arrived, he saw two men in the bedroom, both wearing black clothing and hoods covering their entire heads, save for the eyes. Tight surgical rubber gloves covered their hands. One of them was holding a gun, the other detained Claire with his brawny, muscular right arm, his hand over her mouth. Aware that Jack entered the room, the man with the gun, looked to his right to search for and turn on the lights in the room. As he did so, Jack knew this move would likely occupy the man’s attention for a split second. Jack took the opportunity to strike first. This was probably the only break he would have to defend Claire. The baseball bat was hidden from sight at his side when he entered the room. With the speed of a Bonanza A-36 airplane on steroid-laced fuel, Jack raised the Louisville slugger and struck the gunman with all his might. Surprised by the rapidity of the attack, the man took it on the left side of his skull, dropping the revolver. The blow was hard and bulls-eye, causing the villain to experience severe dizziness and shock. The man would remain in a daze and stupefied for some time, leaving Jack to contend with his counterpart. Astonished by the surprise attack on his partner, the second hooded man released Claire. Unimpeded, she could now breathe deeply. Her hands were hogtied and she had a gag over her mouth.

  The gun now lay on the carpet near the foot of the bed, equidistant to Jack and the second assailant. Wishing to take possession of the weapon, both dove for it and both grabbed at it simultaneously. A struggle ensued between the two men. In the thrash about, the gun fired striking Claire in the left upper chest, momentarily stealing her breath away. Blood gushed out the wound instantaneously as she gasped for air. The gun fell on the carpet again. For a split second, Jack became paralyzed with fear. Fear that he might lose the love of his life. This momentary distraction was what the second man needed to take possession of the gun. As he attempted to do so, Jack’s thoughts became again of his safety and that of Claire’s. Rapidly, Jack picked up the baseball bat and struck the gunman, hitting him on the head. He fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes, barely conscious. By now, multiple angry sirens could be heard approaching in the night. The first man had recovered sufficiently from his T-ball experience, where his head provided the ball and his body the tee. He was able to stand up straight, though wobbly, and help his buddy to his feet. Given the severe vertigo and nausea, the first intruder had significant difficulty helping his cohort out the door and down the stairs. The second man continued to be nearly dead weight. Though the exit from the scene was arduous and complicated, the men were unimpeded by Jack, who held Claire in his left arm while holding pressure over the bleeding dike on Claire’s upper left chest. Her radial pulse remained strong, a good clinical sign. Her breath was rapid and short, no doubt a sign of a pneumothorax. Sobbing, Jack sat impatiently, waiting for the cops to arrive. The adrenaline rush caused him to breathe quickly.

  Police officers with guns drawn ascended the main staircase. As each cleared a room, the procession progressed towards the master bedroom. When he could get his breath, Jack yelled for help indicating he was in the master bedroom and that the scene was safe for them to enter. When the troops stormed in, Jack immediately asked for an ambulance. One was already on the way, although its intended patron would not be requiring it any longer. The officer in the police car on the driveway was DOA. An ambulance soon arrived.

  *****

  Earlier today

  October 1

  10:02 AM

  “I used to say I had no use for baseball. It wasn’t a sport. Well, I changed my mind. That baseball bat John gave me for my birthday as a gag, really came in handy, huh?” said Jack jocularly, sitting at Claire’s side. She was lying in an ICU bed, a bag of red blood transfusing into an IV and a chest tube protruding from her left ribcage. This tube was hooked up to a suction apparatus helping her left lung to re-expand. The bullet had caused her lung to collapse and she lost a lot of blood, but luckily, it had missed all the major blood vessels or organs. Surgery to repair her insides was uneventful and she was on her way to a speedy and full recovery. She would be transferred out of ICU in the morning and home soon thereafter.

  “Don’t make me laugh, Jack,” said Claire wincing with pain.

  “Sorry, honey. Can I get you anything?” asked Jack concerned.

  “Yes, a husband that doesn’t feel he needs to keep me laughing all the time,” she said sticking her tongue out at him.

  “Okay, meet the new me. I will be boring and serious. No more joking. No, not me,” said Jack, making her wince yet again.

  “Quit it, Jack. Don’t make me get up and hit you with my chest tube sucker thingy. I’ll do it, so help me,” she threatened.

  “Hey, who’s ‘so’ and why should he help you?”

  “See, you can’t stop it, can you?”

  Susan, who cleared her throat when she entered the small cubicle, interrupted the playful dialogue.

  “Hi, Susan, come in,” invited Claire, smiling.

  “Well, you got some color back. You were so ghostly pale last night,” said Susan.

  “Amazing what a little hemoglobin can do for your complexion,” joked Jack. “Sorry, baby,” he said, then turning to Susan, he whispered, “I’m not supposed to make her laugh; it hurts her.”

  “I don’t think you can do it, Jack. You’re a stand-up comedian masquerading as a cardiologist,” entertained Susan with a smile. “I mean that in a good way,” she continued.

  “Thank you ladies and germs. Don’t forget to tip your waitresses and if you liked the show, I’ll be appearing at the Holiday Inn in Cincinnati, Ohio next Thursday,” said Jack holding up a banana as a microphone.

  “So, what did you find out, Susan,” asked Claire, trying not to encourage Jack any further.

  “Well, no fingerprints. We’re waiting on ballistics from the bullet extracted from Claire’s chest. The police officer killed on duty had a large gash—”

  Claire gasped. “What?” she said sorrowfully.

  “I hadn’t told her about that. Sorry, honey, I was waiting until you were stronger. The officer that was outside on the driveway was murdered. I went out to talk to him because I couldn’t sleep. I found him dead in the car. That’s when I called 911 and got the baseball bat.”

  “Good thing you did, Jack. These people are professional assassins. We are still looking for them, but they’re long gone. We have no clue as to who they are or where they went,” lamented Susan.

  “Wow. Professionals. When will all this be over?” asked Claire.

  “Soon, baby. Really soon,” answered Jack reassuringly.

  “When you leave here, we got you two a hotel room out of town and police protection there, too. The two rooms surrounding your room are occupied by on-duty cops who will watch over you,” said Susan.

  “Susan, did Herb talk to you about Mike?” asked Jack.

  “Yeah, he didn’t like him. He was jealous of him. Mike and I have been dating for three months now and—”

  “No, it’s not that. Herb and I believe Mike is involved with all this, Susan,” interrupted Jack abruptly.

  “What? Mike has been helping us. Why would you say such a thing?” asked Susan, astonished.

  “Herb was in on this. He wanted to gather more evidence against Mike before telling you and bring him in for interrogation. I believe Herb was killed by Mike because of it.” Jack was serious as he spoke.

  “Mike was with me when Herb died. He was at my side, holding hands with me. He helped me hold Herb and tried to save his life. What you’re saying is impossible. It makes no sense.” Susan was visibly upset. She wasn’t ready to accept the truth. With dogged persistence, Jack continued.

  “What about the gun used for the hospital murders? Why hadn’t he found out about it until Rupert died? Herb found out that Mike hadn’t accessed the FBI database at all.
He was telling us the gun was not in the system, but had done nothing at all to check on it.”

  “I don’t believe that for a minute. You’re crazy, Jack. You are delusional.” Susan dropped a card she was holding on the hospital table in front of Claire and exited the cubicle.

  Jack and Claire looked at each other, unsure as to what to do.

  “Let her go, Jack. She needs time. This is too much for her to accept right now. She’ll come around,” said Claire clinically.

  Jack nodded.

  Hope you get well soon! read the caption on the card, under the cartoon of a mouse sick in a hospital bed, with his little leg in a cast.

  “Cute,” said Claire passing the card to Jack.

  “Yeah, cute.” Jack’s face was serious.

  After a long moment of silence, during which a nurse arrived to take Claire’s vital signs then left again, Jack spoke again.

  “A lot has happened over the last several weeks and we need to think of a unifying theory to explain it all. These things aren’t just happenstance. How can we explain this whole scenario?” Jack was intrigued. He considered this as a diagnostic dilemma, a patient with multiple seemingly unrelated complaints for whom the physician has to put it all together, deriving one unifying diagnosis.

  “Okay, so what do you think happened?” asked Claire. She knew Jack was capable of many great things when he put his brain to work. Jack felt the same about Claire. They needed to put their brainpower together and come up with something.

  “The evidence is strong that Rupert was involved. It also indicated Mike is involved. They are two different people, with different backgrounds and somehow they seem to be intertwined in this catastrophic series of events. What are the possibilities that would bring them together?” posed Jack.

  “Money,” exclaimed Claire, without much thinking.

  “I agree. So, where would they get money out of this?” asked Jack.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I don’t either. What are the possibilities?”

  “We know the hospital is involved and people are getting murdered because of it. The research lab has to be part of this whole scheme.” Claire remained pensive.

  “I think you’re right.”

  “The research people come up with a drug that somehow makes them money, but it involves murdering people,” continued Claire.

  “But why is an FBI agent involved at all?” asked Jack.

  “That’s a puzzler. Why would an FBI agent become involved? FBI is involved when State lines are crossed, otherwise the local or State law enforcement agencies are drawn in.”

  “So, something involving multiple States brought in Mike. Mike sees the opportunity to make some dough and takes over the project?”

  “Killing people was a necessary part of the experimentation?”

  “Or maybe an undesirable side-effect.”

  “A side-effect would lead to discontinuation of the experiment, or drastic change in protocol to avoid the deaths. This experiment seems to be about killing people.”

  “That may be the Major Rooner’s connection. Remember how the military was involved? Rooner came out here and met with Rupert. That must mean there is a military application for the experiment. In the military, you look for ways to kill people.”

  “In wars, not in Evansville.”

  Jack continued to speculate.

  “Imagine a killing machine. A medication that is probably administered by inhalation; what’s it called?” A pause. “Ah yeah, Rat Poison. In the lab, there was an aerosolizing device. There was also a device that made bubbles. John was telling us they were putting drugs into these bubbles, which could be destroyed remotely with an ultrasound device. So, if the medicine is aerosolized into the air consisting of bubbles of a drug and multiple soldiers breathe it in, at the appropriate time the bubbles can be disintegrated remotely causing the soldiers to become acutely paranoid and agitated with a particular drive to kill fellow soldiers. A small group, or even one soldier, could cause destruction of an entire platoon given enough ammo and a target-rich environment. What do you think?” asked Jack.

  “Sounds about right. What about the other man? What was his name? Akrim?” asked Claire.

  “I’m not sure how he fits in to all this.”

  ”Do you think John found out about the deadly scheme and was neutralized to keep him quiet?” asked Claire.

  “I’m sure of it. That explains why he wanted to talk to me at the end of the soccer game. I blew him off and he was murdered the next morning. I could have prevented his death.” Jack became somber again, a guilt-ridden expression all over his face.

  “Jack, you can’t blame yourself for John’s death. But your theory makes sense. Rupert gave the patient a gun and the aerosolized drug. He then burst the bubbles inside the poor man. He gets paranoid and starts shooting people, including John. It’s not your fault. It’s Rupert’s and Mike’s and whoever else is involved in this tragedy.”

  “Was Rupert killed or did he just have a car accident?” asked Claire.

  “I’m sure he was murdered. The accident was probably a manifestation of the Rat Poison. If you get the drug while driving, in your paranoid agitated state, you’ll probably want to kill others by using the car as a weapon. The police had a warrant for Rupert’s arrest. They were going to interrogate him that day. So, his accomplices killed him off to avoid complications and possible condemning testimony,” postulated Jack.

  “Some of the patients just had a cardiac arrest. They didn’t become paranoid and agitated, at first,” interjected Claire.

  “I’ve been thinking about that. I believe that was the early experience with the drug or an exaggerated response in some individuals. For instance, Herb just collapsed, had seizures and rapid heartbeats. That’s probably an exaggerated response, maybe a double dose.”

  “So, how is Mike Ganz involved? And how do we get Susan to see the truth about him? We need foolproof evidence,” said Claire.

  “I’m not sure how that piece fits yet. I imagine Mike met Rupert. Maybe Rupert calls the FBI initially to see if there is a potential role for this drug. Sell it to the good guys. The local FBI agency would probably be a good place to start. Mike sees the potential financial gains and approaches the U.S. military. They say, ‘Okay, give us more evidence of what it can do.’ Rupert and Mike go out testing the drug. Killing people to prove their drug is worth buying. On the other hand, maybe the military says, ‘No, thanks,’ and they go to the other side. I bet you Akrim is a terrorist or something like that. As such, he sure would want it. Money keeps coming in for further research and improvement in the weapon manufacturing devices. And here we are now.”

  “So, where do we go from here?” asked Claire.

  “I think Rupert has some documents about this whole thing. He was a documentation fanatic. John told me so several times. If he did, where would he keep them safely? Mike went through his belongings at the hospital. His home was ransacked I bet looking for documents. I bet you Rupert has important files hidden in his cabin.”

  “Oh yeah. I remember he invited us and all the new cardiology fellows to a Fourth of July picnic there a couple of years ago. Do you remember where the cabin is?”

  “No, but the GPS does. I marked an away point when we were there and it’s still in the GPS database. I can drive to it by following the pink line. All the way to the front door.”

  “You’re such a geek. How does it feel to be a geek?” asked Claire with a feeble laugh causing her to wince in pain at the same time.

  Jack got up and grabbed his jacket. He was anxious to check out his new idea.

  “See you later. I’ll call you.”

  “Be careful.”

  They kissed and Jack left the room. Outside ICU, two uniformed police officers sat on a chair drinking coffee, flirting with a nurse. Jack waved as he passed. The officers waved back.

  *****

  2:14 PM

  The trip to the cabin was uneventful. The day was clear
with practically no wind. Moderate temperatures were typical for early October. As he drove out of the city and into the country, a feeling of peace overcame Jack. He got off the highway and entered a smaller thoroughfare that eventually led to an even smaller side road. From there, the GPS led him to a path, which was paved only for a while. As he penetrated deeper and deeper into the woods, Jack found himself on a dirt lane lined with trees, meandering through the forest. The leaves had started to turn into beautiful brilliant colors of autumn. The sunlight pierced through the foliage giving the area a serene glow. As he approached the log home, Jack glanced around looking for anyone that might later identify him on this clandestine mission. Nobody in sight, but the out of sight potential hideouts abounded. Constant vigilance for a prospective witness was in order. It was quite feasible that Rupert would have someone, perhaps a neighbor farmer, minding his infrequently visited cabin. Meeting this someone today would be less than ideal.

  He arrived at the cabin, parked the car and surveyed the area. Swirling dust clouds kicked up by the moving vehicle were uncontestable proof that he had arrived in the country. Jack exited his ride and walked to the front door, looking side to side and behind as he went, still paranoid that he might be spotted. The front door was locked. Well, no surprise there. Jack looked under the welcome mat. No key. He looked around for a logical area to hide a key. None was apparent. Jack walked around the log home and entered the back porch. This looked out onto a winding stream with a waterfall, the perfect picture of serenity and tranquility. The back door was also locked. A large rustic square wooden box on the porch contained logs for the fireplace. This would make a perfect place to hide a key. Despite a thorough search, none was discovered. Imitating his moves earlier, Jack walked around inside and outside the porch assessing for what would make a good place to hide a key. There were beautifully decorated pots with plants, rocking chairs and even a hammock. All were potentially capable of hiding treasures.