Undercover
22 - Doctor's Orders
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Part 22 – Doctor’s Orders
The door to Will’s hospital room swung open and Don lifted
his head, afraid that Min had returned.
Instead, it was Dr. Jones and she was frowning.
finger. He got up from his chair and
quickly followed.
She shut the door behind them, took a few steps away from
the curious David and Megan, then turned to face Don.
snapped. “Will’s numbers have been all
over the board since late this morning.
First, it looks like he’s doing well, then he does poorly, then
well. Then, about five minutes ago, his
numbers dropped through the floor, bad enough to set off alarms.
you doing in there?”
Don grimaced. “I’m
afraid it’s Will’s mother. They don’t
get along. Well, she doesn’t get along
with anybody. Things … came to a head
about five minutes ago.”
“Just what I feared,” Dr. Jones snapped.
“No, wait!” Don begged.
“Will’s father just took his mother home and she’s not going to be
coming back. I promise!”
Dr. Jones frowned at him, her eyes narrowing with
frustration. “Okay.
Any more bad numbers and you are all going back to the waiting
room. Understand?”
Don sagged with relief.
“Yes, doctor. No more bad
numbers.” Bad numbers. He couldn’t
help a snorting laugh. Charlie would say
that no numbers are bad.
Dr. Jones raised her eyebrows at his laughter.
“My brother,” Don fumbled.
“He’s a mathematician. The phrase
‘bad numbers’ just struck me as funny.”
She looked at him thoughtfully.
shot?”
“Yes, we were undercover together.”
“And you were injured?” she looked pointedly at his
bandages.
“Nothing big.”
“I’m sure you lost blood.
When is the last time you slept?” she asked.
“Umm, Monday night?”
“So it’s been at least 36 hours since you slept, and when is
the last time you ate?”
“Uh, Tuesday night.”
“So almost 24 hours.
You are going home.”
“But,” Don protested.
“I just need some coffee.”
“No,” Dr. Jones said firmly.
“You need to sleep and to eat.
Number one rule of coma watch – Don’t forget to take care of yourself,
too.”
“I can’t!” Don
said. “I need to be with Will!
“Okay, you have thirty minutes.
least five hours.”
“Five?”
“Five. You can give
your phone number to the watch nurse and she will call you if there are any
significant changes.”
“But—”
“Are you arguing with me?
After I put myself on the line so you can all be in Will’s room?”
Don flushed. “No, Ma’am.”
“Forgive me if I don’t just take your word for it,” Dr.
Jones said with a wry smile. She turned
back to the door and opened it. She
waved for Don to go ahead of her then shut the door behind them.
“First, there’s no big news, folks,” she said.
Will’s numbers, in particular a huge dip about five minutes ago.
taken care of, yes?”
‘Yes’s and nods came from everyone.
“And it won’t happen again?”
A chorus of emphatic ‘No’s.
“Alright then. Don
has talked me into giving this experiment one more chance, but one more
downturn and I’m calling it off.”
‘Thank you’s and nods.
“Okay. Second
thing. Don here has thirty minutes with
Will to reassure him from … whatever, then he is to go home, get some sleep and
eat. He is not to return to the hospital
for at least five hours. Got it?”
“Yes,” Alan said firmly.
“I bet that arm wound is worse than he’s willing to admit, as well.”
“Dad, I—”
“Number one rule?” Dr. Jones asked.
Don gave her a begrudging smile.
mother. He could never argue with her,
either.
“Good,” Dr. Jones said crisply.
too. Eat.
You are no help to Will if you get ill or collapse.”
Don slumped into the nearest chair.
“I’m glad she’s on our side,” Colby said with a laugh.
Don looked at Alan with a sideways smile.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Alan said with a wistful
smile. He looked at his watch.
Don groaned and pulled himself over to a chair next to
Will’s bed. He took Will’s hand and
said, “Hi, aein, everything’s
okay. Your mom’s gone home, your dad,
too. We’re all here for you, so relax
and no more …” Don lifted his head to grin at Charlie.
“Bad numbers?” Charlie echoed.
Don gave a dry chuckle, amused that he’d completely
predicted Charlie’s reaction.
“Oh!” Charlie said. “I came here to tell you!
“What?” Don said,
surging to his feet, his heart pounding.
Charlie waved his hands.
“I didn’t mean we actually found him, but after a great deal of work, we
were able to track the email back to its source.
“And?” Don snapped.
“It was sent from an Internet café in Newport Beach.”
Don blinked.
“Huh?” There was no way that one
of the LA DEA agents could have driven down to Newport Beach and back on the
day that the Richland brothers got the email without someone else in the DEA
noticing.
Charlie shrugged. “Your
people are combing the phone records now of everyone who knew about the
undercover assignment for any calls to that area.”
“Good,” Don said, frowning.
“This makes no sense.”
“No,” Charlie agreed.
“And check this out, the person who sent the email has the username
‘dea_sucks.’”
Don shook his head, slowly sitting back down in his
chair. What in the world was this all
about? Did someone have a grudge against
the DEA … or Will in particular?
Charlie continued, “I put a sniffer on the Internet café’s
ISP to let us know when this ‘dea_sucks’ sends another email.
so we can see who’s in the café when the email is sent.”
“So we’re just waiting now, then,” Don said.
“Yeah,” Charlie said.
“But we’ll get him.”
Don sighed. Waiting
was a usual state in the FBI, and probably the DEA, too.
one of yours.”