Decryption, p.15
Decryption, page 15
part #2 of The Genesis Machine Series
"I don't help things like him."
She gasped. How dare he. "Get out."
"What?" He blinked rapidly.
"I can't believe what you're saying about a little boy. An innocent child." She couldn't keep the disgust off her face. He must see it. The horror she felt at his use of the word 'thing.' "Even if he is the product of Allwood's experiments, is it his fault he was born?" Her body temperature rose. "I want you to leave. I'll drive to Walter Reed by myself. I don't need you."
"Charlie, please." He grasped her elbow.
"Let me go." Her whole body shook with emotion. How could he say such awful things?
"You didn't see what I did. You didn't live the horror of what Allwood's people did." A pained expression came across his face. "If you had, you'd be on my side."
"I didn't choose any side, Angel. I only see a little boy who needs someone to make sure he's safe, make sure he's okay. Because nobody else will."
Without glancing back, she burst out of the lab into the hall, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Did you and Dr. Stern figure it out?" Kellerman asked as he hovered outside of Charlie's cubicle. "The formula?"
The young petty officer, focused only on Armas, snatched her purse from her desk and shut down her computer. "Can you drive me to Walter Reed?" Her whole body twitched.
He jerked his head back. "What?"
"Walter Reed. It's about a thirty-minute drive from here. I already looked it up on my phone in the hall." She showed him the map on her cell.
He rubbed his forehead. "Why do you need to go to Walter Reed? What's going on?" Kellerman raised his head and scanned across the desks in the small office. "Where's the commander? And Demarco?"
Charlie forced her arms into her cardigan sweater. Did anyone else notice the chill in the air? "Didn't anyone tell you? Armas is very sick."
"The boy is here?"
"Stormy brought him to the lab, but they've rushed him to the hospital. Dr. Stern thinks it could be tetanus. I guess I never thought about a child from the past being vulnerable in a modern world." Her vision blurred. Why did she think it would be an easy transition for a boy from the fifteenth century to blend in with the twenty-first?
"Of course I can take you. Let me tell the Chief. We were wrapping up our data project."
"Thanks." She forced a smile. "I really need to buy a car."
Kellerman hesitated. "That's okay. You seem pretty upset. I wouldn't want you driving alone."
"Thanks, Cole."
He smiled warmly. "No problem. I'm glad he has someone so concerned about his well-being." He quirked his lips and stared into the distance, as if remembering something. "I've never been around little kids before, but you seem like a natural."
"You would feel the same if you'd seen him in the pod."
"Did he say anything to you?" He tilted his head to the side.
"What? When he was out on the river?"
"Yeah." He edged closer to her desk. "I know he was speaking mostly Italian. Did he mention anything significant?"
What an odd question for him to ask. "I'm not sure what you're getting at."
He shrugged. "We know he's a time traveler from the past, so I thought maybe you're reanalyzing what he may have told you. People, places. Did he tell you who put him in the pod? Who made it?"
"If I had those answers, you think I'd still be translating the manuscript?" Her head began to ache. "He's just a little boy. He was frightened and alone. He only wanted someone to care for him."
"That makes sense. I was just curious."
Although there was something weird about Kellerman's questions, Charlie shrugged them off. She didn't have time to delve any deeper. Armas needed her. "Can we leave now?" Purse clutched to her side and cover in hand, she met his gaze.
Kellerman cleared his throat. "Right. Yes. The chief." He held up his hands. "Give me two minutes." He dashed for a quiet corner of the office where he and the chief had set up camp to conduct the analysis.
Chief popped up. "The poor kid's sick?" His brow wrinkled.
That was the first sympathetic thing he'd said about Armas. Some progress had been made.
"Yes. He's headed to the hospital. Did you want to come?" Even though she hoped he'd say no, it was only polite to ask.
Chief Ricard tapped a finger on the edge of the cubicle wall. "We're about to wrap up our analysis. I'd like to finish the report for the commander. Demarco and I can handle things here."
Demarco.
Hearing his name caused an uncomfortable feeling in her chest. He could appear in the office at any minute, and she wanted to leave before that happened. Whatever his problem was, she didn't want to hear about his ludicrous suggestions regarding Armas. For whatever inane reason, Angel had condemned the boy merely for his parentage. The thought of it horrified her and made her question her feelings for him. No matter what he'd experienced in a future time, it didn't excuse what he'd said. Not in her mind. An innocent child had nothing to do with the crimes of a future time.
Maybe he was merely emotionally reacting to his feelings about Allwood, which made sense if she were to put herself in Angel's shoes. But a child? What did a child have to do with any of it?
"Charlie?" Kellerman prompted. "I said, are you ready to go?"
"Yes, right." She gave a quick shake of the head. "Let's go.”
As they headed out the door together, Angel stepped out of their way.
Charlie's stomach dropped, and she waited for a confrontation.
He merely side-stepped them, his eyes dark hollows in his face.
Was he regretting his words in Dr. Stern's lab?
Kellerman touched her elbow, and she followed him toward the elevators. She'd have to save her questions for later. Armas needed her.
In an open waiting area on one of the many floors of the expansive hospital, Charlie and Kellerman waited on a bench. She was surprised they even managed to find where Armas had been taken. Stormy and Commander Orr weren't answering their texts, and the building was a maze of specialties, patients, rooms, and floors that seemed to go on for days. Huge signs hung over hallways directing military men and women to the correct department. But where was the department for little boys who needed emergency treatment?
"Ask him again." Charlie nudged Kellerman in the side and pointed at the male nurse behind the counter at the emergency department. They'd been waiting for thirty minutes for someone to help them, to no avail. Everything was hidden behind military IDs and regulations. Nobody seemed to know anything about a boy brought in for tetanus. You'd think in this modern age that kind of diagnosis would stick out like a sore thumb, but no, everyone they'd encountered hardly made eye contact or wanted to tell them a thing and even mentioning Commander Orr didn’t make the needle move.
"I thought rank was everything. Especially here. Why don't you use it?" Was her voice sharper than normal? Everything that had happened today had set her on edge, and now she was taking it out on Kellerman. She chewed her lip. "I'm sorry. I'm just worried about Armas is all."
"I know." His deep voice soothed her. "You're aware in DC there are probably more generals and admirals than O-2s, right? I'm nobody around here."
Even as he said the words, Charlie looked up and watched a female captain with four gold bars on her shoulder boards walk past. Kellerman was right, high ranking officers were a dime a dozen in one of the most prestigious hospitals in the country. Name dropping wouldn't help them much.
"I'm going to try texting Stormy again." She picked up her cell phone.
"Hey." Kellerman pointed at two figures emerging from a closed door. "There they are."
Commander Orr had his arm around Stormy's shoulders.
Not good.
Charlie's throat constricted.
She and the lieutenant rushed to their co-workers.
Orr had downcast eyes. "It's not good, guys."
"It's all my fault," choked out Stormy. "I should've been keeping a better eye on him."
"The doctor said there was nothing you could've done differently," Orr said gently. "He brought the infection with him."
The petty officer shook her head. "I saw the wound on his shoulder when I gave him a bath. It looked bad, but I thought cleaning it and putting on some antibacterial cream would do the trick." She scanned the familiar faces surrounding her. "Like I would do with my kids. I've never...they've never—" Tears welled up in her eyes, and she hid her face in the commander's shoulder.
"I’m sure he’ll be fine." Kellerman stood with feet apart and arms crossed.
"Let me take Petty Officer Storm over to the waiting area," Orr said. "She doesn't need to hear the details all over again."
As Orr slowly walked the emotional Stormy to the rows of chairs, Kellerman turned his attention on Charlie.
She gave him a quick update. "I was hoping Dr. Stern had been wrong about the diagnosis." The memory of the little boy's body spasming and wracked with pain haunted her.
"Tetanus." Kellerman stared across the room at Stormy who bowed her head and prayed. "Who gets that anymore?"
"A child from the fifteenth century." Glancing at her distraught co-worker, she feared what Orr might have to say. Could she handle bad news about Armas? The boy without a family? The boy who'd traveled alone through time?
"I'm sure the doctors here can fix him." Despite the confident words, Kellerman's brow wrinkled.
But as Commander Orr rejoined them, the deepening frown on his face suggested a different outcome.
She clasped her hands together, nails digging into her palms. If Armas died, she would never forgive Angel for acting so callously toward his own nephew. Never.
CHAPTER 24
"Dr. Stern, anything new?" Commander Orr greeted the doctor as she exited from the exam room entrance.
The usually cheerful and upbeat Dr. Abigail Stern wore a grimace and shook her head.
Charlie blinked back tears.
As the doctor joined them in their tight huddle, she clasped her hands together. "They are doing the best they can right now. They've given him a sedative to control the muscle spasms and an antibiotic to combat the infection. But they've had to intubate him for the time being as his respiratory muscles were affected."
How could it be only days ago Armas was walking and talking and now he was hooked up to all kinds of machinery to keep him alive? "But he'll get better, right?" Charlie had to hold out hope. She couldn't bear to think of the boy never waking again.
Dr. Stern let out a breath. "I won't lie to you, this is a very serious illness. Right now it's hard to tell if he'll be able to pull through. We don't know how long the toxin has been circulating in his bloodstream. There is an anti-toxin treatment available that they'll give him later today, but without knowing how long ago he was exposed, the effectiveness of the treatment may be marginal."
A rapid stream of thoughts ran through Charlie's mind. "How long will he have to be intubated?"
"Most likely? A few weeks. That's how long it might take before he is able to breathe on his own." Dr. Stern's mouth flattened into a line. "If he can make it through the first few days, I think he has a good shot at beating this. But for the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours, I'd say a lot of prayers."
Commander Orr ran a hand through his hair. "Will he be safe here, doc? I mean, the doctors, they asked us some pretty tough questions, and I'm not sure they bought our story."
"I'll stay here twenty-four seven if that's what it takes. Let me keep an eye on him. The staff know I'm a doctor, know I have a clearance. They've been pretty open about sharing treatment options for Armas. I think they trust me. Plus, I'll know what's good news and what's bad news. That way, none of you have to worry." Dr. Stern shifted her gaze to Stormy's bent head in the waiting area. "Can someone take her home and let her know everything will be all right?"
Kellerman lifted a finger. "I can do it."
"Thank you, LT," Orr said. "I can drive Petty Officer Cutter back to the office so we can update the rest of the crew."
Angel.
Charlie's stomach hardened.
Could she bear being in the same office with him? Would the commander notice her change of attitude toward the special agent? Maybe she should share what Angel told her about his own time travel, the probable parentage of Armas, and everything else.
As their group split apart and headed in different directions, the commander's phone blinged. Then Charlie's. Then Kellerman's. Stormy dug her phone out of her purse. Dr. Stern cocked her head to one side and scanned the group.
Oh, God. Not another one.
Orr read the message off his phone. "Lake Havasu. A new radar signature's been detected."
Another pod?
"Andrews then?" At least she wouldn't have to be alone with Angel now. They'd be whisked away to Arizona and be busy with tracking down another pod. This time, with the knowledge of a time traveler being aboard. A fluttery feeling blossomed in her stomach.
Orr nodded. "I'll text the chief and Demarco to let them know we'll head straight there."
"And Stormy?" Charlie glanced at the emotional woman. "Is she really in the right frame of mind?"
Orr took a beat. "Kellerman, can you call her husband? Have him come pick her up. Dr. Stern can keep an eye on her. "Doctor?" He raised an eyebrow.
Dr. Stern turned on her heel and changed direction to head toward the waiting area. "No problem. You three go." She shooed them toward the elevators. "I want my samples this time."
Orr gave a whisper of a smile. "We'll do our best."
"Do we have time to stop at the base motel?" Charlie asked. "My go-bag is in my room."
"Lieutenant." Orr snapped his fingers. "Drive Petty Officer to her room. I'll meet you on the runway."
Kellerman touched Stormy on the shoulder, said something to her, and then caught up to the commander and Charlie.
"Let me run to the head first," the lieutenant said. "Can you wait with Stormy?"
"Sure."
Orr gave a quick nod and left the scene.
As Charlie approached Dr. Stern and Stormy, a dark cloud seemed to hang over both women. Would prayers be enough to save Armas?
CHAPTER 25
Kellerman left Charlie with the doctor and Stormy and sought out the closest restroom. After a few tries down the wrong hallway, he stumbled across the men's room, which was located just past an enclosed glass atrium with well-trimmed hedges in the center and carefully arranged pavers. It created an oasis amidst the stark, medicinal feel of the rest of the hospital.
He entered the restroom and scanned the space for occupants.
No one at the urinals.
He bent down and took a peek for any feet under the stall walls.
Empty.
He slipped into the furthest stall, pulled out his phone, and selected his encrypted messaging app.
Lake Havasu. New arrival.
As he waited for a reply, he leaned against the wall. With Armas in the hospital how could he possibly fulfill Allwood's earlier assignment? Maybe this new information would mean updated orders.
He expanded his lungs and took a deep, satisfied breath.
Hard to believe only a few years ago he was dealing with unruly sailors, and his biggest concern had been conducting enlisted uniform inspections and signing off on leave requests. As an officer in the intelligence field, he'd assumed his work life would be exciting and important. But a low-ranking officer in any designation started out doing the crap jobs. The menial management tasks an O-4 thought was beneath him. Mostly paper work. Boring paper work.
But would he ever have believed a few years later he'd be living a double life and working on the most fascinating scientific discovery in modern times?
His luck had improved when he'd been assigned to the professor's office. Something about Allwood’s confidence, his energy, excited the newly minted Lieutenant Junior Grade. Allwood didn't take any crap and seemed able to intimidate even the most high-ranking officers on base. It was how the man managed to turn a ridiculous idea—time travel—into a believable reality over the last two decades.
How did he do it? And could Kellerman learn something from him?
His phone buzzed.
A new message.
Will meet you there.
Wait? What? Never before had the professor wanted to be present at a pod landing. What had changed?
Kellerman quickly pulled up a mapping app to figure out the distance between Groom Lake and Lake Havasu.
Less than a four-hour drive.
Maybe that was the difference? Location? Was Allwood eager to collect samples for himself? Or did he have other intentions, since he'd arrive well before A Group could?
He texted back.
Got it. What about assignment?
Three dots appeared to indicate Allwood was typing a response.
The restroom door opened, and two men chatted about pre-season football.
Sounds like delay. There will be another opportunity.
Kellerman closed the app and slipped his phone into his pocket. He flushed the toilet and exited the stall.
The two men, army officers in BDUs, stood side-by-side in front of the urinals continuing their discussion about NFL teams and their favorite players.
Kellerman quickly washed his hands and grabbed for a paper towel.
One of the officers finished, zipped his pants, and joined Kellerman at the sink. "What do you think? Do the Colts have a chance this year?" He jacked a thumb toward his buddy. "This guy thinks it's their year. I think he's crazy."
Kellerman gave the officer a blank stare.
The army officer raised a brow. "Not into sports, I take it?"
He dried his hands with the paper towel. "I have better things to spend my time on."
The other officer joined his friend at the sink and whistled. "Guess we're just a couple of dumb jocks, huh?"
It was then Kellerman noticed they outranked him by a couple of bars. If the professor were here, he'd know how to put these two in their place. Who cared about football when there were so many more interesting things to focus one's brain on?
