Not Today, Dave

The driver woke up in the recovery room with a start. His shoulder in severe pain, he almost cried out. Finding a call button, he pressed it repeatedly. Waiting a few seconds, a male voice came over the line. "Can I help you, sir?"

"Yes," whimpered the driver. "I'm needing some medicine, I'm in severe pain."

"Someone's on the way, sir," the voice replied.

Disconnecting the line, the driver went back to trying to adjust himself in the bed as best as he could, trying to ignore the pain, but not fully succeeding. A nurse came into the room, filled with a syringe, asking him his pain level. Looking at the nurse, he asked her, "Are you serious right now?"

"Sorry sir, I have to ask, hospital policy," she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

"Definitely a 37," he said.

"Only from 1 to 10, sir," she said, smiling.

"Well, definitely a 10 then," he said.

"OK," she stated," we're gonna give you some morphine to help with the pain."

"Wait a minute," he cut her short. "Is that stronger than Dilaudid?"

"No," she answered. "It's actually weaker. The doctor wants you to get less medication right now, to try to help you heal."

Grunting, the driver laid back and with a sullen voice, said, "I'm not happy about it, but I understand. Go ahead, nurse, do your magic."

She plunged the syringe into the IV tubing, and slowly administered the medicine. Feeling the effects of the medicine, the driver noticed that the symptoms were less intense than before, although familiar. Once she finished, she pulled the syringe from the line, and disposed of it. Dr. Zhen came in, looking paler than usual. Looking at his patient, he asked him, "How do you feel?"

"Like someone ran me over with my rig, and then tried to tell me to drink water to shake it off," the driver retorted.

Zhen nodded. "An interesting analogy, you'll have to tell me how you came by that one," he said. He looked around with a worried expression on his face. "Later, perhaps though. Right now, we need to get you out of recovery and into your room as quick as possible."

A look of concern came across the driver's face. "Is there something I need to know about?" he asked.

"I'll let them fill you in once you get to your room. Right now, I'm just checking to see how you are progressing," Zhen replied. Turning to the nurse, he asked a couple questions, then turned back. "I think it's safe to move you now, let me get someone to escort us." Using his cell phone, he dialed a number, then spoke. "Hello, this is Dr. Zhen. We have the patient ready to move and require an escort." Nodding once, he said, "OK," then hung up.

About a minute later, there were 4 men in suits, including Stillman, coming into recovery. Each of them were looking around, scanning up and down the recovery area. Stillman came over to him and asked, "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," the driver replied, "but why is everyone on edge?"

Stillman looked at him with a concerned expression. "Seems like one of the bastards came in here trying to take you out while you were in surgery," he said. "Luckily, he didn't get too far when someone spotted him. He started shooting, and hid himself somewhere in the hospital. One agent got grazed, but he'll be okay, just a flesh wound. We need to get you first to your room, then to an undisclosed location.You can't stay here, you're too vulnerable."

The driver creased his brow. "How the hell did he know when I was in surgery?" he demanded.

"Hang tight, we're working on that now," Stillman said. "First things first, though. Getting you in a more protected location is paramount at this point." Circling his finger in the air, each agent took a post around his bed. "Get ready, this may not be comfortable, but it'll hopefully be quick." Looking around one more time, Stillman said to Zhen, "OK, doc, let's roll."

"This way," Zhen said, as he parted the doors and hung a left. Hurried steps pattered along the floor as the agents scanned ahead and behind, covering all angles. The wheels of the bed creaked and squeaked a little, and Stillman asked, "Couldn't you have gotten a quieter bed?"

Zhen apologized. "Sorry," he said, "this is the best one we have in recovery right now. All of the newer ones are in ICU, three floors up."

Grumbling, Stillman pushed ahead and hit the elevator button. A ding sounded as the rest of the group approached. Doors opening, they shove the bed into the elevator with everyone, and hit the button for the floor the driver was admitted to. The doors closed quickly, and everyone was standing there, guns in hand, waiting for the doors to open. The elevator stopped, and swung the doors open. Stillman and one agent stepped out, turning each direction to clear the hallway, then motion for the rest of the group. Zhen stepped out, followed by the other two agents pushing the gurney. Swinging down the hall, they headed for the room, when a janitor appeared at the other end of the hallway. Grabbing a pistol from his cart, he trained it on the entourage and started firing.

"GUN!" yelled Stillman, who dropped to his knee, and exchanged gunfire. The other three agents and Zhen turned left into another room. One agent told Zhen, "Get in the bathroom, we'll cover you." Turning to the driver, he grumbled, "You too."

"Gimme a piece," the driver exclaimed.

The agent took out a small revolver from his ankle, and said, "Hope you don't need it, but this will have to do for now." Passing it to the driver, he turned back towards the door, and leaned against the wall. The driver opened the cylinder, checked the bullet count, then closed it back into place. Pulling back the hammer, he kept the gun low as he watched the agent. The other two had already left he room, taking up defensive positions as the janitor kept firing, trying to keep the agents pinned down as he ran down the hall towards the door. The final agent burst out of the room, and jerked twice as the janitor hit him one in the stomach, then once in the shoulder. Whirling around, he fell to the floor, groaning. The driver raised the revolver and aimed where he thought the janitor's chest would be. The janitor burst in, his right shoulder hitting the door, leaving a clean shot for the driver. The driver fired twice, hitting once in the chest, and once just above the bridge of the nose. Instantly, the janitor jerked, his hand throwing the gun into the air, the back of his head creating a spray of blood against the door. He fell forward as the driver slammed the door to the bathroom shut. The pistol hit the floor and discharged the final round in another direction. Hearing the gunshot, the driver opened the door slowly, checking the man as he did. The janitor's lifeless eyes stared at him as if he were invisible, blood pouring from the back of his head onto the floor. The agent that gave him the revolver clutched his stomach, trying to put pressure on the wound, as the other two came over to help him. Stillman stumbled to the door, his leg bleeding profusely, yelling, "You good?"

"Doc, he's hit," exclaimed the driver, and Zhen ran over to him. Setting him down in the chair, he examined Stillman, as orderlies and nurses attended the wounded agent.

"He got lucky, the bullet went clean through," the doctor said. "Missed the artery by an inch, but he shouldn't die from blood loss. Here," he said to Stillman, "grab the arms of the chair while I stop this bleeding."

Taking off his lab coat, he tore it down the seam, creating a bandage of sorts to tie around Stillman's leg. Tying it tightly, Stillman hollered in pain. "Geez, doc, a little warning next time, huh?"

Zhen smiled. "Sorry, but I couldn't warn you, otherwise you would have tensed up," he said.

"Well, I guess that makes us even then," Stillman said.

Nodding, Zhen looked over at the driver and asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, doc," was the driver's reply.

Stillman looked down at the janitor and said to the driver, "Did you do that on purpose?"

"No," the driver said. "I was aiming for his chest and the gun jumped up, and I accidentally triggered the second round."

Stillman whistled. "If that was on accident," he noted, "I'd hate to see what you can do on purpose." Looking over at the lifeless janitor, he smiled and said, "Not the way you wanted to enter paradise, is it?"

Zhen moved to the other wounded agent, and checked his injuries, calling for another gurney. "We need to get him into surgery quickly," he said to Stillman. "The stomach shot perforated his liver, and he has internal bleeding. The shoulder is a through and through, missed any bone structure, so he just needs a patch job there. It might take a while for this one."

Stillman nodded. "I got backup on the way, doc," he said, as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. Looking down at it, he saw the shattered screen, where it took a bullet hit. "Crap," he said, "that was my favorite phone." Getting up and limping over to the hospital phone, he dialed out and talked to the field office, calling for backup. Hanging up the phone, he turned to the driver and said, "Backup's on the way. Give them about 30 minutes to get here, traffic's backed up all the way to the city." He turned to Zhen. "Het doc," he yelled. "I need a body bag and some Ziploc baggies. We need to get this guy prepped for transport to our facility. Our doctor will get fingerprints on him and DNA verification."

Zhen nodded, and told his nurse to get the necessary supplies. The other two agents came over and helped bandage Stillman so his pants had a gauze wrap around them. "My wife's gonna be pissed," he joked. "She bought me these pants just last week."

The driver chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I don't think she's gonna be happy with you," he said.

The nurse came in, folded bodybag and some baggies in her hands. The two agents donned gloves and covered the janitor's hands with the baggies, then rolled him over to place the bodybag under him. Zipping the bag closed, the driver got one last look at him as his lifeless eyes peered toward the heavens. Stillman grabbed his arm, and asked, "You good?"

"Yeah," the driver replied. "Haven't had to do that for a long time."

"Better him than you," Stillman said.

"Yup," the driver stated, as the wounded agent was lifted onto the gurney outside, and rushed down the hall. Zhen looked back, and said, "I have to save this young man, but I'll meet up with you later." The driver gave a thumbs up, and Zhen left, chasing the gurney down. Looking back at Stillman, he asked, "Where are we going?"

"Safe location," Stillman replied. "We'll get you there, and the doc will come over and make sure you're taken care of."

"OK, so what do I need to do here?" he asked.

"Grab your personal stuff, and I'll make sure the discharge paperwork is done. Leave nothing behind." He stated.

"Roger that," the driver replied.