Endgame - Chapter 94

   The fly in the ointment was now all too clear. The air was cold. The water was cold. That was all fairly expected and planned on. Rain had been planned on as well, but… not this sort of a storm. This wasn't simply a late fall cold weather rain. This was a dangerous storm cell. It was getting more and more violent, and getting there quickly.

   Some thunderstorms stand out as particularly harsh, and this one was swelling up and going for broke. The low booms were lengthy and sounded to Panic like large ordinance going off. The ground was shaking beneath everyone's feet periodically, and the flashes of intense, bright light were followed ominously by actual tremors that rattled the ground and everything attached to it. Mother nature had decided to show off her power.

   The heart of the storm was obviously closing in rapidly, and the epicenter was going to pass over their location. Severe weather warnings came across cell phones. The clouds were rotating around faster. Each intermittent gust of wind that picked up and faded was faster and stronger and lasted longer each time. The time delay between the bright flashes and the earth shaking tremors was decreasing rapidly. The emergency swimmers, whose job it was to pick up the victim in the swelling river? Wouldn't go into the river. Panic had started out with facial expressions expressing at first his displeasure, then his contempt.

   When one of the emergency rescue operators started in with a bit too heavy handed of an explanation, Panic started losing his cool. He held his temper, but his loathing was displayed on his face for all to see, and he made no attempt to hide it. He of course could hide it, but he didn't feel a need. When the rescue operator followed up his repeated explanation with a hair too patronizing of a closing version, Panic lost his cool.

   "I'm sorry. Exactly what's the purpose of having emergency rescue here, if you pussies won't go in the river. It's your goddamn job, asshole."

   The man gave him a dismissive attitude and started explaining the "danger" again, and he strayed too far into resembling an adult talking to a child.

   "Goddamn it, I'll do it myself. You can sit here and watch."

   "You're not going in the water, and that's final."

   "Oh. Really. Who the fuck do you think you are?"

   "I'm telling you, no one's allowed in that water. The storm isn't even here yet, and you can see what's coming down the river. Or you blind or something."

   Panic started walking away. His parting shot was fairly quiet, but terse.

   "Stick it up your ass…"

   The emergency rescue swimmer made the mistake of grabbing him while stepping in front of him.

   "If you don't get out of my way, and take your hands off me? You might end up taking a nice little ambulance trip. Not telling you again. Move."

   When the guy protested again, Panic went to walk right through him. When the guy stiff armed his shoulders to stop him and try to talk sense into him, Panic just grabbed one offending wrist grabbing his hoodie jacket and dipped and twisted his hips and shoulders while walking. The man fell to the side and down, and landed neatly and fairly gently in a light roll onto his back.

   Panic started jogging, and broke into a run. He figured he would be hard to catch running away, and if they couldn't catch him, they were then relegated to "powerless" to physically stop him from entering the water. The rescue worker ran for help while Panic broke from his jog into a run. He fixated on the bridge in the distance. He needed first to outdistance anyone that might try to stop him, and then he needed visibility. Which meant he needed height. To see the victim coming, so he could try to intercept him. Bridge. Head for it, but circle around a little to make it hard to follow. If they simply sighted his bearing going off as he disappeared, they would be going the wrong way.

   He could hear the radio chatter in his earpiece. He heard Mike try to stop him. He just ignored the chatter and failed to respond. There was no point, because he had already tunnel visioned in on his choice. He only had a couple minutes to make the bridge. Then he had to choose between sprinting all the way up and around to get up onto the bridge and out, or climbing it. He was down in the bottom of a river valley. Too long. Too much precious time would be wasted. Things were minutes away, and seconds were going to count. He spotted a built in bridge maintenance worker's ladder on the nearest bridge foundation. He headed for that on a sprint.

   He could just jump up on the far side on the foundation, and pull himself up onto the flat top. This got him to be just able to jump up and gain the higher, smaller oval that rose up out of the larger lower oval of cement. Giant I beams laced together to form the last base of the bridge still on land. He locked his hands on either close side of the I, and pushed his work-boots onto the far side of the I. He started going up to gain the end of the workers ladder.

   When he got to it, there was a circular safety cage around it to specifically prevent kids from using it to gain the lower beams and walk out over the river when partying. Vertical one inch steel rods formed the open cage tube, with periodic circles of the same welded onto the verticals. It was now a fairly quick and easy climb to get up to gain the ladder itself, near thirty feet up. He wished Skykid were here, he could climb like a monkey. But Skykid wasn't here, and even if he was… though it certainly was true that he would arrive much quicker climbing and running up and over? Sky wouldn't be easily talked into jumping into the cold water, let alone from that height. Let alone accounting for the raging hell coming down the river.

   The Monongahela river basically all along it's length had a well earned historical reputation for being able to flood. Every 20 to 30 years like clockwork? Pictures would run in all the newspapers of seeing main streets of river valley communities, underwater completely, and usually some teenager canoeing around. The army corps of engineers considered the whole area to be a monumental pain in the ass from the word "go". Simply because it was their responsibility to deal with it.

   The Monongahela was "discovered" by white settlers who were amazed the Indians had no villages or trails near the river they liked so much. No Indian anything existed built near the river. Originally, the Monongahela river was a really wide though mostly shallow river. However, spring flows went nuts and the river flooded it's banks eagerly. The Indians knew from a lifetime's experience, not to build anything down by the Monongahela river. There was no point in developing anything there, the river would sweep away anything even remotely close to it.

   The white settlers saw commercial shipping lanes all over the area. Three rivers flowed into what would one day be first Fort Pitt, then finally the "point" of Pittsburgh, the very point where the three rivers joined up. The Indians used the river system like highways for traveling, but they were smart enough to do it in the right season, with whatever one man could load into a canoe.

   The white settlers built settlements, and buildings and enterprises to run flat rafts with short walls to move commercial amounts of coal, timber, foodstuffs and tools around to everyone. And the Indians finally gave up trying to explain the flooding to the white men. The white men are crazy, they insist on building on the river.

   To control the flooding and make good use of the river for shipping, the army corps of engineers built the lock and dam system. The river as mother nature made it was too shallow for shipping most of the time. So dams called locks raised the water level periodically on shipping lanes. Turning the shallow river into a deep river, deep enough for giant barges to float with no danger of running aground anywhere.

   Then, every time it rained, well… it was the opposite problem. It was too deep, too wide and growing wider by the inch. A deep, wide impressive channel was gouged out the length of the shipping lanes and the residential communities. To pass more water. The river silts and mud's up something fierce as well. In addition to building and maintaining and operating the extensive lock and dam system, they were also responsible to control flooding as well.

   The channel made the middle one third of the river deep. Easy barge trains with the deep water. Floods had a bigger path, keeping them lower. Crews dug out the channel and took out the accumulated silt and mud and clay. They started at lock X and finished at lock Y. Then? They floated to lock X where they had started a couple years back and began again.

   All enough of a problem in and of itself to begin with, then economic belt tightening over the years led to the channel and silt crews being let go. To save money. Which meant the river filled in the channel with mud and silt and debris. Then started filling up the width of it. Making it wider and wider.

   Then, the environmental protection agency declared that there were chemical boogeymen in the mud and silt. You were to not churn it up. So by the time aging locks needed rebuilt, the silt and mud removal crews treated the river mud like spent plutonium rods from a nuclear power plant. When the lock and dam construction and dam maintenance was finally completed… the EPA went back to forbidding the channel maintenance.

   All of which was truly neither here nor there, except that it explained precisely what Panic was going to jump into. A no maintenance river, silting and mud-ding in. When the steep walls of the valley funnels all the water into the river to let gravity run it's course, storms produce every imaginable sort of debris. If it floats at all? It goes be bopping down the flood waters when the river swells.

   During bad storms, you see muddy hell with everything from dead livestock to hot water tanks getting carried to new shore locations at random.

   He shot up the ladder as fast as he could, and got the lower beams. It wasn't good enough. He needed to be on the higher beams, and gain the catwalk that ran all the length of the bridge, right under the road surface on top. Height. Visibility. The ability to pick his entry spot. He'd only have one shot at this. The climb up another I beam was much easier than the vertical one. It was on an angle. Once on the upper set of horizontal beams, it was quick to get out and over to a spot another ladder went up to the catwalk.

   Mike was ordering him not to go into the water, and Panic wasn't responding. There was no point to the conversation, it would only serve to slow him up enough to miss his chance. He sprinted down the catwalk and squinted until he thought maybe he could just make out something that didn't quite look like a log or other floating random debris.

   Panic got his breath back from all the sprinting and climbing then running again, but only for a few seconds. Then he finally spoke on the radio for the first time since this had begun a short time prior.

   "Clear the channel. Mike."

   He could hear the cross-talk quiet and he heard Mike sigh.

   "Go."

   "I'm going in, regardless. I'm far enough away and no one can see me or hear me in all this mess. Help me make sure I'm looking at the victim. I only get one shot at this."

   Another sigh.

   "I can't talk you out of this, can I?"

   "No. Don't waste my time trying. I'm up on the catwalk, under the big bridge. I want you to help me make sure I got eyes on the victim, when I go in. I only get one chance, or I'll miss him."

   "What do you want."

   "Get your spotter on this side to use his thermal vision. Water's ice cold, the victim will show up like a red flare. I think I see him, but I gotta make sure."

   "Panic, I can't put a light on him… I don't know what you want me t---"

   "Just get me close. I think it's the dark thing… looks like… just ahead of the… you see the red light on the railroad tracks on the other side?"

   "Yeah. Hold on…"

   Mike got the spotter closest to swing thermal off of the scene, and onto trying to verify the heat signature in the water. He came back quickly, so Mike was back to Panic seconds later.

   "Panic? Yeah. Small red heat signature, headed right for the bridge. You're probably looking at the victim. I can't guarantee it. Don't do this."

   "Go back to what you're doing. This is already done…"

   "Shit… hey!"

   Mike didn't get any further reply. Panic stared and squinted at what to his best guess wasn't a log, and was probably the victim closing down on his elevated position. The heat signature wasn't an absolute location, the spotter was in a completely different position, at a completely different elevation. Two different observers trying to guesstimate where each other were, and where the heat source in the water was in relation to them… it certainly wasn't an exact science.

   Panic swung first one foot and then the other over the catwalk, and squeezed through the bars that prevented a bridge worker or anyone else on the catwalk from tripping and falling. When he thought the time was right, he stepped off. No one could hear or see his splash. He was alone.

   Winging it like he was, everything was going fairly well and in his favor. Except for one thing… the gusting wind. The storm was almost on them now. The gusts were picking up something fierce. The strong storm currents and debris from upstream were swollen up over basic flood stage now. It was at least a two second fall from the catwalk down to the water, and a particularly strong and sustained gust hit him hard.

   Like a kite in the wind, the gale pushed him back and angled his splash from perfectly straight down and into something that wasn't optimum. That wasn't the worst of the situation, however. The raging torrents had picked up a tremendous amount of random debris off of the river edges as the water rose and shot it downstream. In particular, felled trees were uncountable. The back of his head grazed a log ever so slightly as his head was just about to cut the surface following his feet and body down and in.

   He wasn't completely out cold from the glancing blow, but another millimeter and he would have splattered the back of his skull off of the log and been a goner with a canoe for a head. He hadn't known exactly how high up he was when he had jumped, and he hadn't known exactly how deep the water and river bottom were where he would land. He was guessing and going for it on a hunch and playing the odds.

   The close spotter was watching him now, on Mike's command. The problem was, Panic didn't seem to come up from his splashdown. At least not immediately. Panic himself was more than a little out of it from the glancing impact grazing the back of his head. He came to underwater. He could move his feet, but… his movements were extremely show and sluggish. Soft strands whirled around him.

   He had come to with his right hand pinching his nose shut, underwater, and his legs down into the soft mud and silt at the bottom of the channel. The soft strands were the river's version of ocean kelp. In this river, it was a batch of floating Anacharis, a common river water plant. He had plunged straight down through a particularly large, dense patch of it and continued down to the bottom. Where he had gone into the soft mud and silt well over his knees.

   The head injury left him out of it enough that he wasn't immediately sure where he was and what was exactly going on. He started wiggling his legs in slow, strong twists and pumps. Tearing at the mercifully soft strands of Anacharis that was sort of reinforcing the soft mud and silt that he had plunged down with. Forming a weird sort of soft, gooey mud with strands of water plant fibers for a kind of mild organic rebar reinforcement. Pulling at the strands of water plants, he pulled up handfuls of plant fiber, which loosened the silty mud's grip ever so slightly. Working his legs slowly in conjunction with tearing and pulling at the plants took precious long seconds that naturally seemed like far longer.

   He finally tried to pull his knees up to his chest, which didn't really work as planned. Still half mired in the mud and silt, it served to lower his body down. He tried to keep his cool and cupped his hands and dug and swam around his legs in slow motion. Churning the mud. Eventually, it allowed him to slowly wiggle free of what was dangerously close to becoming a watery grave.

   Still holding his breath on instinct, he was still battling for consciousness. And slowly losing. He couldn't really swim up for the surface like he wanted to, but his held breath slowly drew him up once free. He barely registered breaking the surface. He vaguely still knew his purpose. He knew he was in the water to retrieve a person before they drowned. The water's cold temperatures weren't helping any either. Numbness was already settling into his limbs.

   He wasn't swimming nearly as effectively as he wanted to. His head injury was preventing his arms and legs from doing exactly what he wanted, and the numbness coming up from his hands and feet wasn't helping in the least. In this confused, sluggish state he realized he was close to another human being. That was his target. He didn't completely know why it was his target, he just knew or sensed it was. The only good luck he was having, was that the target was sort of closing in on him, even though he couldn't effectively move towards it like he wanted to. The floating target was moving downstream. By attempting to swim upstream, Panic slowed up to allow the target to hit him.

   His hand came into contact with the target, the other person in the water. He felt around as best he could to orient the bobbing human, moving in a feeble and sluggish manner. He hugged the cold body to his own cold body, from behind it. He couldn't hear or see well. He was barely conscious. On instinct from swimming long distance so many times, he tilted his own head back as far as he could. He felt his back slowly come up, and his face momentarily dipped beneath the water until he got his legs slowly around the upper thighs of the target. He felt like he was going asleep, as he tilted his neck back up to almost straight so his face could break water.

   Stay calm, and take stock of the situation.

   He knew he was cold. He knew he was tired. He knew he was in churning water with a very strong current. He knew hypothermia was settling in at a predictable pace, and that he couldn't swim to shore with one hand like he normally would in this situation. He wasn't even sure exactly what direction to head for if he even could manage that, which he couldn't anyways. Float. Take a break. He knew he could take a long nap on open water and wake back up later. He was fairly calm given his situation he didn't fully understand in his state.

   Some water periodically washed over his face, and he tasted a mouthful to see where he was. Was he in the open ocean again? No. It wasn't salty at all. This was fresh water, but it was hardly fresh tasting. There was some slight off taste to it. Oh. I'm inland, somewhere. I'm in a better position than I thought. I'm not in open ocean. I'm in a lake. A river. Something. Not nearly as bad as it could be. He calmed further, and decided it was best to take a little nap. Falling asleep on his back was a routine thing to do, no great cause for alarm there. The water temperature seemed like most of the problem. Fuck it for now. I'll live.

   Merry had been listening to all of this cross-talk going on, and didn't like this at all. She knew Panic had gained the bridge. He had located the best guess as to the victim's location. Then he had dropped down into the water. The problem, was that the spotter was reporting that he wasn't coming up from his splashdown. To her, there was no way in hell that was good. It seemed like more than a minute before the spotter reported that he had a heat signature on the surface, but that he wasn't sure if it was Panic or the floating victim they couldn't go into the water to get. Thermal vision works great for showing you where something is; at any kind of range, though… it sucks for image detail.

   Mike had Merry being babysat by the female agent he had gotten to watch his "witness" he needed to account for at all times. Merry and the female agent didn't get along very well in any fashion whatsoever. The female agent couldn't be told "who" Merry really was, so… this woman was given to being terse and condescending to her. Me agent. You? Witness. Snitch. Whatever.

   When Merry started to explain that she was going down there, the agent started rudely explaining how she absolutely wasn't going to. Merry was in a real spot, and didn't know exactly what to do. The female agent babysitting her? Was in no way going to drive her down to get in the flood stage storm water. Which was exactly what Merry was going to do, one way or the other. She briefly thought about knocking this woman senseless, and driving the cruiser they were in herself to get down there.

   That didn't seem like any sort of optimum plan. But… there was no optimum plan. She argued with the woman enough and gave in. More accurately, she pretended to give in.

   "Goddamn it. I'm having a smoke…"

   Merry put a cigarette to her lips and scraped her disposable lighter, when the woman turned to her and issued a curt order.

   "How many god damn times do we have to go over this shit. You're not smoking in my cruiser. You wanna smoke? You get the fuck out."

   "It's raining cats and dogs… I'll roll the window down…"

   "You'll get out? Or you won't smoke! I'm tired of this."

   "Bitch…"

   Merry got out to smoke. Pulled her hoodie over and around her head, and leaned over to light her smoke in the gathering storm which was really starting to pound and blow. She idly walked around the car a couple times, and ended up near the lady's driver's window and paused to smoke. The window cracked, then went down.

   "Merry? I'm responsible for keeping you safe. I can't take you down there. There's no way. I got orders."

   Merry spoke softly, and acted resigned to it.

   "I know. And… I'm sorry."

   "For trying to smoke in the car again?"

   Merry shrugged, and muttered something under her breath. Turned away. The driver's window went all the way down, but Merry didn't pursue the conversation further. That wasn't the point of what she was doing. Smoking wasn't the point of what she was doing either, though the woman thought it was. Merry's objective was to stand more or less where she was, and to have the driver's window down. With the woman distracted. Smoking achieved this position for her. The woman was listening to the cross-talk, and wasn't paying close attention to Merry. She should have. It was a mistake.

   Merry took her leather belt off of her jeans slowly and without the woman noticing. She wrapped it tight around her fist several times, and concealed it in her right hoodie pocket. Merry was tall and strong, and had a big fist for a woman. Wrapped tight with her thin leather belt? It was even bigger and harder than what God had given her to work with. Merry got into what she figured was her best position, and spoke quietly.

   "Sorry. No hard feelings…"

   The woman was concentrating on the radio chatter, and was idly responding without really looking towards Merry out in the downpour. Somewhat dismissively. Like an adult speaking to a child just to get back to what they were doing, without really paying attention.

   Merry dropped her face though the woman wasn't looking to see it. She drew in a couple long, slow breaths. Before acting. She stepped into a sucker punch. She had drawn back and stepped into it, and got near full extension on it. Her fist wrapped in her leather belt was a large, hard club that struck the irritating female agent near her temple, and she never saw it coming. Her head lashed over violently and she crumpled over the front console. Merry calmly opened the driver's side door. She grabbed the woman by the upper arm and drew her out of the car and dropped her like an oversize doll onto the cold, wet ground and got into the cruiser. She closed the door without a thought and took off.

   Merry spoke tersely onto the radio.

   "Mike. Merry."

   Mike cleared the channel quick.

   "Go."

   "Mike? I'm going down there."

   "No! No, you're not. Stay with your handler. Don't---"

   "Shut up. I'm already doing it. This isn't a discussion."

   "Put your handler on…"

   "Oh. She can't talk right now. She's not with me."

   "Where the hell did she go?"

   Merry paused briefly.

   "She decided to take a little nap…"

   "Merry!"

   "Shut up, Mike. You're upstream. Your perps are fleeing upstream to leave. He's headed downstream. I'm going downstream."

   There was a pause. Someone tried to cut in and Mike snapped at him that he cleared the channel, then the voice obeyed him.

   "Merry. Listen to me. We don't know which one of them we got a heat signature on. It could be him, or it could be the vic."

   "It could be both."

   Mike now had the added aggravation of Merry doing what Panic had just done to him. Deciding to act, and not talking to him anymore. He tried to talk her out of it, and she ignored him. Mike finally asked the closest spotter what was going on. He related he was fairly certain that the car on the nearly empty bridge was a cruiser. Mike just swore quietly.

   "Shit."

   The last thing the spotter reported was that the cruiser stopped in the middle of the bridge. That the door opened and that someone got out and went to first one side of the bridge, then the other. Mike knew what was coming, and he was completely powerless to stop it. He heard Merry's quiet voice one last time. It wasn't a question, it wasn't an argument. It was a simple statement.

   "Mike. Send someone downstream. Ahead of both of us. I'll be coming back to our side of the river…"

   Then the radio went silent, and stayed like that until Mike spoke quietly.

   "North spotter…"

   "Go ahead."

   "You still have a heat signature on the subject group?"

   "Yes."

   "Stay back. Keep eyes on them."

   "Will do."

   "South spotter."

   "Go ahead."

   "Describe what's going on. As best you can."

   "I'm guessing that's the cruiser. It's parked in the… just to our side of the middle of the bridge. Someone got out. Went to one side, then to the other. Then back again. They're standing at the edge."

   Mike spoke quietly.

   "Keep me posted."

   Merry had a few seconds to think about it. This could kill her. Panic might have never came up. She had no way to know for sure. She might be going for just the victim. Who might be already drowned, no one really knew. The victim had been reported moving some in the water earlier, but had went too far to know now. Or she could be going for just Panic and the vic was already drowned. Or both, or by now? Maybe neither. This might be pointless. It well might even be suicidal. Was it even worth it?

   When she rapidly went over the possibilities to the situation, some of of them scrunched her guts up into a tight, painful knot. Then she quickly realized, that if she had been the first to jump in? He would have gone down and went in after her. She knew him. He wouldn't think twice. She had a brief second of feeling small and helpless. She was pausing, and weighing her options. He wouldn't. He'd simply charge hell with a bucket of ice water. He wouldn't hesitate. He hadn't hesitated, not for a moment, simply for a victim that was maybe even already dead and it was pointless. For a stranger. And here she was, hesitating. For him. She felt shame.

   What if he was already dead. What if he hadn't come back up at all? Then this was suicide. This all shot through her brain at high speed within a couple seconds. Then she quickly remembered what her life had been like before. What it felt like now. She quickly realized it didn't matter, and that she should have just jumped in immediately. So, she finally did.

   Being dead was now preferable to going back to what things had been previously. You go all in. You don't ask questions. You don't ask what the price is. She backed up to the middle of her lane on the bridge, and sprinted as fast as she could towards that side and vaulted over the railing and sidewalk in one long arc. Walking on air as the arc carried her just over the railing and down.

   Someone once asked a guy that had jumped off of the golden gate bridge, and lived to tell the tale though barely, what it had been like. In the course of the description… the man uttered the famous phrase no one had forgotten from the interview.

   'About half way down? I decided maybe this wasn't a good idea.'

   This more or less mirrored what Merry would have said. Because about halfway down, she realized what everyone realizes jumping off of anything high. That it looks a lot different looking down, than it does looking up at it. This wasn't like climbing a tall tree with the boys at home, jumping into the big pond. This was at least two full seconds of falling, and perhaps a tad more. The air hissed around her in an ever increasing volume as her falling speed increased faster and faster.

   Half way down, she remembered Panic's idle instructions, laying side by side talking about water and jumping into it. That holding your nose was mandatory after a certain height. Water would be forced with insanely high pressure up your nose from the impact, up thru your nose and into your sinuses under pressure, and out through your Eustachian tubes and out your ears. You'd be dizzy and disoriented and wouldn't be able to hear much at all when you came up, and for quite some time afterwards.

   Which wouldn't do at all when she came up. She needed to be able to hear one or both of them when she got close to them. Well… if she came up at all. He had described that you're supposed to cross your arms over your chest like a mummy, and to remember to pinch you nose to prevent the disorientation and ruining your hearing. And if you're jumping high enough? Your balance. So, about half way down… she oriented herself for impact. Mummy styled arm crossing. Nose pinch. Point your toes for less impact, because the higher up you jump from, the harder the impact with the water is.

   The gale force winds blew her just like they had Panic a short time before, and it surprised her how much it blew her off course. She didn't exactly stick her landing, and hit the water at a slight angle but not too bad. She felt the scrape and slap of the water, which was substantial. It felt in some way more like landing in dirt than water from this high up. She felt the plunge and being quickly forced down further underwater then she had imagined.

   She felt the temperature when she hit, and the quick drop in temperature as she went down. She wasn't sure how much was temperature shock, and how much was the water's impact and scrape. Then, the absolute worse? Was realizing she had struck the bottom of the river. She finished almost halfway embedded into the soft, gooey mud. The sudden shock and terror of feeling "something" she moved not quite through that bound up around her softly, and encapsulated her. The Anacharis water plant patch.

   The feeling of the squish as she sank in slow motion, yet with enough force to still drive her down into it. The feeling of being trapped in mud and silt at the bottom, and the soft stuff she didn't know what it was all around her. She went through what he had. Feeling bound up and trapped, unable to rise back up like expected. Pulling. Twisting. Tearing. Scooping. Kicking. Digging. Then the elating feeling of coming slightly free, then finally being free. Feeling the rising of buoyancy.

   She hadn't mashed her head off of a log going in as he had, so she was fully able to swim for the surface, not content to simply bob up slowly like he had. Feeling that you had gone much deeper underwater then you had thought you would. She felt the icy bottom temperature give way a little bit as she had the weird sensation of swimming "up". The instant thermal shock and initial pins and needles that gave quickly away to the numbness that started in. But that didn't matter at all, it was breaking the surface that was immediately important. The temperature and what it would do to her didn't worry her until she was breathing air again.

   Coming to the surface was initially disorienting. She wasn't sure exactly what direction to go in. Then she realized she just had to look up. See the bridge, and she felt the current carrying her. It was strong and pulled at her like the wind pulls on a sailboat. She didn't want to fight that powerful tug, she wanted to use it. Go with it. It would add tailwind speed to her progress. She could swim probably twice as fast going with this huge current than against or across it.

   It was a strong tug, and she was happy to get to go with it, she wouldn't have wanted to fight it. Anything she was after was downstream. This was no time to dilly dally, she swam hand over hand and tore into it. She had to make up time and get there. Wherever that was, no matter how far away. No half measures. You're committed now. You don't swim downstream for a little while, and think oh well, I gave it a shot. I tried. You go all in. You find your objective in this scary cold mess, or you go under and don't come back up.

   You do, or you die. There were no other options.

   If there was a God, he was highly pissed off. The storm had hit them dead on as she drove down to the bridge and skidded sideways just before the halfway point. This big bridge into and out of the heart of downtown in the city? Usually packed. It was very light for traffic. Testament to how bad the storm was. Cars couldn't see from the sheets of horizontal rain. The huge booms came instantly with the lightning, and there was no time delay. The Monongahela river has steep valley sides in many places, and this was one of them. The fairly high hillsides lining the river? Were the high points the lightning was striking, and it was all around them.

   This was no sissy la la crackles of lightning. These were serious, thick bolts of awesome electrical power that appeared instantaneously almost straight down. The explosions that came one after another made it impossible to determine which earth and gut rattling booms and reverberations were simply thunder and which were trees exploding. The gales that wound up and down were scary enough when down, and when hitting their peaks were of a strength it made it difficult to stand to it. The kind of gales that you had to actually lean into to prevent the feeling of being blown over. The rain? Pelted, bit and stung. It came more sideways than down. Big, giant drops that were more like small buckets each.

   The shock and sting of icy cold water gave way slowly on her skin. To pins and needles. Then, to slight numbness. It started in her fingers, then went into her hands. She had to glance at her hands to make sure they were cupped to keep speed to a maximum. The only things working in her favor? The constant bolts of light and boom provided time lapse illumination, seemingly brighter than daylight, to get little snapshots of everything in any direction. The super high raging current? Was aiding her instead of fighting her.

   Once into her quest for a short time, a particularly thick shaft of electrical death appeared instantaneously, nearly straight down on the shore to one side. She was happy to be near the middle of the raging river for it. It looked to be as thick around as a human being. The instant boom was deafening, she could actually feel the shock wave on her head and shoulders. The vibrations from the explosion were so bad, that she felt it through the water. It shook the earth so terribly that it could be felt through the water, coming up from underneath the bottom of the river.

   Whatever in the hell that bolt had struck right on the shoreline? Was no more. Merry could hear hissing as chunks of whatever it had once been were flung out over and down into the river. One or more large chunks of it landed close enough to splash her as it made entry. The flash of light let her scan as she looked nowhere but straight ahead. She could hear bacon sizzling noises from the chunks of what had exploded cooled now.

   Mother nature, whoever she was? Was well and truly misrepresented in media. She was no pretty little girly girl, as popularly portrayed. Mother nature was some kind of cosmic tank, capable of hell and fury beyond belief. Merry realized that right now? As a human being, she was but an ant in a mud puddle. Mother nature had a gigantic magnifying glass and was amusing herself aiming idly at things. If Mother Earth felt like it? At any time, she could shake the human beings off of her, as if they were nothing more than annoying fleas.

   One thing wasn't requiring any genius level skill to figure out. She went in around the same area he had. She was swimming fast with the current in her favor. Whoever had been in the water after his jump and possible rise to the surface? Was definitely downstream, and she was on that trail. If they weren't moving, that meant they weren't swimming, so… she was in the right place, going the right direction, and faster than her target. She would get close to it and overtake it.

   This took some amount of time. The steep hills that line the sides of the long Monongahela river basin, ensure the water that runs off into the little tributaries and the river itself are quick to give results. The river swells quick, the current picks up and churns quick. The lock and dam system, means that the "pool" from dam to dam very quickly goes from rest to flood stage in a very short period of time. Then, when the water overtakes the level of the dam height? They open one or all of the "locks" that let the water finally flow down. To prevent flooding to all the small towns.

   This was such a big storm, that the river had already risen up and swelled and raged, before the center of the storm had even hit their location. It was already at flood and rapid stage, and then when the huge volume of rain actually hit? It got worse. Merry felt amazed when the current seemed to almost double in power and speed; she had no way of knowing this was the locks opening up, and all of them. The operators were opening up and letting it go as best they could. She was still burning in her muscles from her constant effort, and this new strength in current was adding to her progress. Even if her body was feeling the first effects of hypothermia.

   The storm was like a little Armageddon. Mike was, as usual, trying like hell to manage the unmanageable. Trying to pull yet another magic rabbit out of his ass, and out of this situation. He had told the closest spotter to keep him updated on whatever he saw or thought he saw. He mentally bit nails, when Merry hadn't come up from her jump. About a minute, or a minute and a half later? He was informed a heat signature had finally came up and surfaced. It was moving. Therefore? Merry was alive. Mike did what Mike always did. Roll with punches and try to stay on top of whatever curve ball was thrown his way. He wasn't known in his career as the magician for nothing.

   "All right. I have a victim in the water. I have a consultant in the water. I now have a witness in the water, too. The witness? Finally came up and swam downstream. That means the consultant probably came up, too. Victim was still moving a little right before the consultant went in."

   Everyone stayed silent.

   Mike looked at JG with the radio off.

   "Junior."

   "Mike?"

   "Take the buggy. Go get the water rescue team. Pick them up."

   "Okay. What are my instructions."

   "Get rescue. Then, I want you to drive down the tracks. Downstream. Once you're past the bridge a little bit? Use the big beam. Any time you can see the river? You scan for someone. They're downstream. You get ahead of them, and wait to see them come past. Merry? Is swimming. If she gets either one of them? She's going to be dragging them slowly to our side of these raging rapids. Just… keep getting ahead of her? And when she's close enough to shore… get her. Get them if she has them. Go! And remember… get ahead of them. Move."

   JG sprinted off to the buggy and went and followed his instructions.

   The cross-talk on the radio picked up. Updates from the north spotter following the perp's movements, and the south spotter that had sight of first Panic and then Merry both jumping off of the same bridge broke that silence.

   "South spotter…"

   Mike waited a second, then responded quietly.

   "Go…"

   "What am I supposed to be doing. I'm not watching anything now. Suspects are still headed north, up the tracks."

   "You know where the witness was being held at, right?"

   "Yes."

   "Good. Go to that location."

   There was a brief pause.

   "Okay. The cruiser is still on the bridge though."

   "Right. Thanks for reminding me. New plan. Go up, and get the cruiser. I don't want some asshole stealing an FBI cruiser, and I have to explain that. Then? Take the cruiser… then go to the same location I just said."

   "Question."

   "Go."

   "What am I looking for?"

   "The female agent. She might be in the cruiser on the bridge. But I doubt it. My best guess? You'll find her unconscious where she had the witness on ice. Grab her up, and bring her in."

   "I'm on it. I'm about… 5 to 10 off of the bridge, on foot."

   "Check back in, when you get the cruiser. Let me know when you find the female agent. And do me a favor?"

   "Yes?"

   "Don't tell her anything… just… bring her in. Can you do that?"

   "Like I said. I'm on it."

   "Go."

   It didn't take too long for the south spotter to double time it to the cruiser in the Armageddon storm. He fairly quickly doubled back, and located the female agent that had been babysitting the witness, Merry. She was sitting upright on the ground where the cruiser had originally been parked, holding her head. He reported in again, and helped her into the car and out of the rain, and had her lay down in the passenger seat he reclined for her. He followed Mike's instructions not to tell her anything, and to simply bring her in.

   JG had gotten the water rescue guy that had refused to enter the water, and his two guys that formed his team. The water rescue guy went in the passenger seat of the side by side, and the other two were in the back seat. They had all hauled ass throwing the gear rough into the rear cargo space of the buggy and then they set off at a breakneck pace down the tracks. Looking for Merry, Panic… or the victim. Anyone, really. Results were not immediate.

   JG hit a point where forward progress was stopped short. They couldn't drive farther down the tracks. He looked at the rescue guys for advice.

   "You guys know the local terrain. Now what. We need to keep moving downstream. Ideas?"

   "Well. If you're sure we're not ahead of them yet?"

   "That's our best guess, right?"

   "Yeah. We need to get on that road up there. We can pick the tracks back up… about half, maybe three quarters a mile down."

   "Okay. How do I get up there?"

   The guy had him turn around and backtrack a few minutes, then he located a dirt road/trail that took them up and dumped out on the road. It followed and overlooked the swollen river. JG stopped at a vantage point, and swung the big focusing beam around. Nothing yet. They drove like hell on the road in the horrible visibility of the gigantic storm, until they could make it back down to the tracks again. This involved pissed off motorists and honking horns because JG wasn't stopping for anything resembling a traffic control device. Stop signs barely meant slow down now, red lights were just something that made a dull red glow. Horns and yells every time they ran intersections and freely used the sidewalks and alleys.

   They were minutes later, once again jouncing down the railroad tracks. In patches where the side trail to the tracks formed a fairly steep bank of loose gravel, JG bounced the front and rear tires on his half of the side by side up to more or less hook over the closest rail and used it to hug the rail until they could bounce back off to the trail that reappeared. He didn't worry about the scraping and sparks or damaging the four seat side by side, that was the least of his worries. Numbers on paper, after all, were right now meaningless. He had an objective. As long as he pulled off that objective? That was what was important.

   Every now and again, cross-talk on the radio was just howling wind and slapping water noises. Intermittent. No voice. While driving through storm hell, JG suddenly barked at Mike.

   "Mike!"

   "Go…"

   "Panic came up. He's on the surface."

   "You have eyes on him?"

   "No, Mike. Squelch."

   "Junior? Speak English. I'm a little stressed right now."

   "Mike… you know how we keep hearing high wind and water on the radio? Squelch setting."

   Mike sounded exasperated.

   "Yes, JG. I'm vaguely aware how the radio works. What's your point."

   "Mike… we're all adjusting squelch. But, someone isn't. High wind and loud water keeps cutting in every once in a while. That has to be Panic. It means he's on the surface."

   Mike paused but the exasperation snapped out of his voice when he thought about it.

   "Why does it have to be him, JG…"

   "Mike… anyone else in the water with a radio right now? I can hear water splashing, sounds like it's right on the microphone. Think about it."

   Mike paused again.

   "Radio's waterproof… he always wears a throat mic. Okay. So… it's probably him, and he's probably on the surface. Then why isn't he talking back to us."

   "I don't know. But I do know, it means he's face up in the water. If he was face down… we wouldn't hear wind and water splashing. Throat mic's in the front."

   Mike could hear the rescue guys yelling at him to watch what he was doing driving, something about rolling over and down the hill. He could hear JG yelling at them to shut up and hang on. Like a father yelling at kids bouncing around in the car on the highway in heavy traffic.

   "JG? Just keep your hands on the wheel… I'm already down the vic… Panic… and Merry too. I don't wanna explain why I lost another agent and three county rescue guys down over a cliff in a rainstorm…"

   "Mike? Keep the channel clear as much as possible. It's hard to tell a human from a log in the river right now in this shit. But… every time he squelches on the radio? I'm gonna try using my horn. If we hear the horn in his radio… It'll mean we're really close. Got me?"

   Mike paused.

   "Oh. Good idea. Now go back to both hands at 10 and 2, before you kill all four of you…"

   "Yeah… that's me… safety first…"

   It took some time, before they thought they saw Merry moving downstream. There really couldn't be that many more people crazy enough to go for a swim in this weather and conditions, especially when the water rescue guys claimed you weren't allowed to even enter the water when they were trained for water rescue. She was still about 150 to 200 yards offshore from their side, with a 400 to 450 yard river distance shore to shore at this point. She was steadily steaming downstream. But his job was not so much to locate her, as it was to get ahead of her progress, and stay ahead of her progress. If they couldn't find her after a while ahead waiting? They could always start coming back and see what was going on and hopefully find her on shore.

   "How long do they have in the water. Before…"

   "Hypothermia?"

   "Yeah."

   "An hour? More? Less? It depends."

   Mike was happy "the witness" was still alive, and swimming. That was one. God forbid they picked two or even three to go with the one. Dare to dream. A little past a half hour into this search, they were fairly certain they could see Merry had stopped swimming. It looked like she was holding onto something floating. Either she found one of them, or she was tuckered out and numb and grabbing onto anything that floated for flotation. She seemed to be a little bit closer than her estimated two hundred yards out previously, but not by any amount that was hugely encouraging.

   "How long would it take her to come into shore?"

   "Christ. Forever, in this current."

   JG paused. Calculating.

   "How far ahead do you think we need to be?"

   The three rescue members pow wowed and decided at least the next small town up the river. Maybe. They set off. Then JG skidded to a stop and started leaning on the horn in the side by side. He was getting what he thought were Panic squelch transmissions. Mike cut in, and said he thought that maybe he could make out a horn real faint during one of the intermittent cut ins, and asked if they could see anything.

   "Pretty sure we might have found Merry. Stopped swimming. Looks like she's… holding onto something to keep herself up."

   "Can you put in and try to…"

   "No! We're heading up to the next town. Maybe she's a little closer to shore, if I had to guess. Rescue says it'll take forever to get to shore. We're gonna try to get ahead of her and try to find a place to set up. Goddamn tracks are going up and away from the water. I'll let you know when we stop…"

   "Godspeed. Go."

   Merry had her hands full figuratively, with what she was trying to do before she went completely numb and sank with hypothermia. Her basic plan was working, however. She thought she had sight on people ahead of her in the fast moving water, and it gave her an added boost to move up on it. She was elated to finally put hands on both the victim and Panic, but her victory was decidedly short lived. Now she had her hands full literally.

   Panic was laying back in the cold water and floating on his back. He had a confused look on his face and his movements were slow and sluggish. He was mainly taking a break and trying not to drown for as long as he could, while keeping the victim face up on his back. Holding him in a loose hug around the neck, his legs gently providing minimum flotation for the poor young guy. Panic looked like he was sleeping when she came up on both of them, and was largely unresponsive. He opened his eyes and looked around, then went back to seemingly taking a nap.

   She was shocked to pull her hand back from cradling his neck to help him stay afloat as best she could manage. It was covered in blood. She felt around the back of his head, and discovered his head wasn't smashed, but he did have a wicked cut on the back of his head and flaps of skin opened up around the giant lump on the back of his skull. At least that explained the situation. He wasn't going under from hypothermia, he just had a concussion.

   Merry didn't have an answer to all of this, but at least she was fully conscious. Panic had an obvious concussion, and the victim had what she knew was the tell tale look of utter confusion she knew from experimenting with the Gamma on Panic. Additional dosages beyond confusion and listening to instructions? Simply produced a stupor. The victim would come out of it eventually, but with no idea how much he had been given, it was impossible to guess.

   The more Merry thought about it, it was likely better that the victim was limp right now. Panic was barely able to stay afloat, and wouldn't be able to effectively control the guy if and when he woke up. Which would be a guarantee. No human waking up suddenly numb and cold in the raging water was going to sit still, they would go ape-shit. They would pull both themselves and the injured and sluggish rescuer under the icy water.

   She tried grabbing the nape of Panic's jacket, and trying to swim one handed doggy paddle style towards shore, but that was barely above useless. Still, with no better option that's what she did in between breaks. Merry had seen the occasional light beam slicing down and wiggling around, but it always danced around then moved on. Sometimes she saw it up ahead of her position.

   While taking yet another break, she noticed that Panic still had his throat mic on. Merry had used the car radio and was now without one on her. It would have raised too many questions with the female agent guarding her, why the "witness" was listening in on the tactical channels. She rubbed her numb fingers in both of his ears, but there was no earpiece now. It must have come off after getting snagged on some floating branches in the water, or maybe even from the jump. Shit. No way to call for help, just when she thought she had a breakthrough. She did some more paddling and pulling towards shore, then took another break. The bright light beams played and then danced off.

   "Wake up…"

   He opened his eyes, but the life wasn't in them. His voice was soft and it came from seemingly far away.

   "I got the guy…"

   Merry sighed. He was out of it. She tried to take his load away from him, the victim. It wasn't possible. He had a death grip with his right hand on his left wrist, and it was wrapped around the victim's throat, hugging him close. It was almost sensual. An unbreakable death grip mixed in with a loose, gentle hug.

   Merry didn't know exactly what to do. Suddenly she had an idea. She could still feel a little bit in her palm and she started feeling around. There… there it was. The radio. Waterproof. She managed to remove it from his belt. It didn't do her any good without the earpiece. Unless… she felt around his neck. Throat mic. She set about gingerly getting the throat mic off of his neck, he was out of it anyways, he couldn't use it. Now, how to get it on. Christ's throne. The earpiece cord was ripped and frayed.

   She pulled the plug out belonging to the wrecked earpiece, and shoved the little rubber water plug back into the plug hole. The speaker came back to life. Merry was astutely aware she couldn't do this easy task by feel like normal, she had to watch her fingers closely. It was a weird and surreal feeling. Like inhabiting some other body, and trying to learn how to use their fingers to perform the task you wanted done.

   She let go, and went underwater. Not like it was the first time tonight she had been underwater, what the hell. She got the throat mic on. There. Mike was on pins and needles when he heard a familiar voice cut the air.

   "Mike…"

   "Good sweet Christ… talk to me…"

   "Yeah. I got him. I got both of them… for now."

   "He has the vic?"

   "Yeah…"

   "What's going on."

   "I'm in the middle of the river, the fuck do you think, Mike."

   "All right, all right… Merry. Listen to me. JG's out. He has water rescue with him. They're looking for you."

   The wind howled and the rain came down sideways, but it wasn't as big a deal as normal, because they were in the water.

   "Is that the lights?"

   "Yeah."

   "They moved on… no more lights, Mike. They missed us…"

   "Merry? Can you get to the shore?"

   "Not really. Panic's got a head injury. He's… out of it."

   "What's going on."

   "He has… a concussion or something. He has the vic. I can't drag both of them to shore, Mike."

   "Merry. They're ahead of you. They're waiting for you to get closer to shore."

   "Mike… I…"

   "What…"

   "Mike. I can't drag them in. The current's too strong. I mean, I can do it, but… five miles later, maybe…"

   "All right. Settle down. Are you all right… just for now?"

   "Sort of. Mike? I'm going numb. I can't feel my hands or my feet… but… I'm okay right now."

   "All right. We'll warm you up when we get you in."

   "Mike…"

   "What."

   "There's a lot of blood. He's out of it…"

   "Merry. Nothing bleeds like the scalp. He bumped his head, that's all. Crazy bastard's been through worse."

   "Mike? Drowning ain't the thing. We're going to freeze to death first."

   "Merry, I'm on it. Like I said, JG and the rescue guys are getting ahead of you. Uh… head injury. Keep him talking. I'll get back to you. Keep moving slowly towards shore. Best you can."

   Merry didn't know what to do, so she tried talking to Panic. The victim was starting to stir as well, but he wasn't aware yet. Thank god, she thought.

   "Hey… hey!"

   "What…"

   His voice was slightly slurred. He kept his head arced back and his eyes closed.

   "Can you hear me?"

   "Yeah…"

   "What do I do."

   "Take a nap… wait for extraction…"

   "We're gonna freeze to death."

   "Ah. Quit whining. Chopper be here soon…"

   "Uh… yeah. What's your name?"

   He gave her his real childhood name, not the name he lived under. That probably wasn't good, she figured. She kept pushing him for information. Address. Email. Phone number. Anything she could think of. Then out of nowhere after a break in conversation, he responded and it sounded like him, just sleepy.

   "Merry? Is that you?"

   "Yeah. Hi."

   "Why are you here?"

   "Why wouldn't I be here. Seemed like a nice night for a swim. Do you know where you are?"

   He took a mouthful of the river, and spit it out.

   "Fresh water…"

   "Yeah. I know. Do you know what fresh water?"

   "Um… I got the guy. He's right here. We're good. I didn't let him go. I got him… he's got a pulse."

   "I see this. Now? We need to get to shore. How do we get to shore…"

   "The chopper…"

   "Right. The chopper. Honey? The chopper's on the shore. We have to get to the shore, to get to the chopper. How do we get to shore? Tell me what to do."

   "Ah. Rob's on the chopper. We'll be fine… just take a break…"

   "Hey."

   "What…"

   "Rob's on the shore, and he's in the chopper. We have to make it to the shore, to get to Rob and the chopper. How do we get to shore. Tell me."

   "I… we don't… I hold onto this guy. That's what I'm supposed to do… I got him. We're good…"

   "Are you listening to me?"

   "Yeah…"

   "Tell me what to do, so we can move. Towards shore. We have to get to the chopper, and the chopper's on shore. Tell me what to do. I never did this before."

   "I… don't have a bearing."

   That stopped Merry short. Bearing? What? Ball bearing… bearing gifts… then it struck her. Direction.

   "I have a bearing. How do I move towards it. Rob said you'd show me how to move towards the bearing."

   "We can't leave this guy… he has intel…"

   "Oh, yeah. We're taking intel with us. Sure thing. Just how do we move towards a bearing…"

   "Do you need a golden invitation?"

   Merry was getting exasperated with this game, but she held her tongue.

   "Yes. Tell.. me… what… to… do…"

   "Well, if you don't lock legs? We can't go anywhere, you stupid shit… we'll drown before the chopper extracts us… gimme your goddamn ankle already…"

   He was slapping the water near his waist. Making grabbing motions with his hand. Merry stuck her foot up there. He grabbed it and hauled her in. He kept a hold of the vic's chin with one hand, and pulled on her ankle with the other. She didn't know what the hell to do with her free foot, and it ended up in his crotch.

   "Goddammit. Lift your foot up… for Christ's sake…"

   He maneuvered by tugging, until their crotches were practically touching. This position had her one ankle up to his head, and the other up alongside his body. His position to her, was now a mirror image. Merry suddenly realized, that this was a very easy way to float. She didn't have to work at all to keep her head up, floating on her back. This was obviously a technique for them to float together in open water, and it was something a person would never think of in a million years, if someone didn't tell you.

   He was handling the victim like cargo, as if the young man were nothing more than a suitcase. He held him by the hair to keep his head above water while they arranged their legs together. He actually handed the man's hair to her for a little bit, while he adjusted themselves and their position. Here, hold the suitcase. He took the victim back, and momentarily pinched the man's nose, while covering his mouth tight. He quickly dunked his head and brought it up again between their legs that were more or less scissored together. She felt him squeeze in gently, so she did too. Just like he hugged the guy's neck. A death grip, yet loose. Their combined scissored legs, formed a makeshift double human life vest that kept his head well above water. His limp arms draped over their legs on that side.

   Panic asked for a bearing. Merry yelled and pointed towards shore.

   "If this guy could kick his legs? We'd about be home free, but… he's dead weight."

   "Yeah. So…"

   "You wanna push or pull?"

   "What do you mean…"

   "I backstroke, and you do the opposite? Or you back stroke and I do the opposite. Take your pick…"

   Merry bit her lip. She didn't have a concussion. Panic had shown her the lazy backstroke a bunch of times in the deep of the creek swimming hole. Let him do the… opposite. She knew he was half out of it, and was trying to find some mechanism to ask him. Merry finally figured out something to try.

   "Panic…"

   "Yeah."

   "You trust me, right?"

   "Yeah. I do."

   "Listen. Give it to me straight, please. You're… a little confused… am I right?"

   The gentle conversation was incredibly out of place and time given what cataclysmic storm was raging around them in the swollen and suddenly very dangerous river. Panic had a much more sheepish voice as he giggled.

   "Yeah. I'm… confused."

   "All right. Let's take a second so I know what the score is. Do you know why you're here right now."

   "I'm… supposed to grab onto that guy, and keep his head up. He has a pulse when I drag his ass in? I did my job a hundred over a hundred, and then some. I know that much. And… that's about it. You wanna do the backstroke, or the opposite stroke."

   "I want the backstroke, if that's okay."

   They steamed towards shore, with a now coordinated hand stroking regimen. Merry visually wanted to hug the shoreline as quick as possible. Which was abysmally slow, it was going to take forever. Panic did the opposite stroke, a weird backstroke but in complete reversal of the thing. Trivia entered his mind freely.

   "I'm doing… we nicknamed it the… reverse backstroke."

   Merry seemed to genuinely laugh a little, completely out of touch with reality, if an onlooker were to be listening in at this moment in the conversation.

   "I'm telling you… if this guy could just kick his fucking legs, like a two year old? We'd be there in better than half the time, I just know it."

   Just when this completely unmanageable situation was coming up on something loosely resembling control, the radio crackled to life.

   "Merry? You want the good news or the bad news first."

   "Good news…"

   "JG and the rescue guys? Are just ahead of you, they think they got a spot near a big rock hillside, they said you're a lot closer in than the last time they thought they saw you."

   "What's the bad news."

   "Now, you got a little time, but…"

   "But what."

   "There's a lock coming up. A little river dam."

   "Why can't you get me there?"

   "It's called a spillway. Its a big cement waterfall off to one side of the little dam. When it swells like this? It's meant to carry the normal river flow and then some. You can't go that way."

   "What are you saying…"

   "You have maybe ten minutes, before the dam. The spillway will… be bad. Very bad. If you're not hitting the shoreline in the next… 5 to 7 minutes the water guys told me… you need to go back out."

   "Let me ask Tarzan here."

   "Go ahead…"

   "Panic. Can we make shore in 5 to 7 minutes?"

   "I don't think twenty minutes, so no."

   "We need to go back out into the river. We don't wanna go over the waterfall. Listen to me. Do you know why you're here?"

   "Not really."

   "Well? I do. We need to get back out for as many minutes as we can squeeze in before we come up on the lock dam or whatever. Do you believe me… trust me…"

   "Yeah. I do."

   "Good."

   They simply reversed locomotion, and turned the ultra slow human raft around 180 degrees, and went at it. JG for his part, was not content to simply put a spotlight on the spillway.

   "Rescue guys. Question."

   "Shoot."

   "I'm FBI, the entire United States is my jurisdiction, if you wanna get technical about it. So… if in the legitimate pursuit of a case, I encounter a river dam? That's my river dam. I own that motherfucking dam. Do we have that much clear? Cause that's my Uncle's river dam."

   "Okay. I'm a local, county rescue squad. We're not the coast guard rescue swimmers. We try our little hearts out though. Where is this going. I've never questioned your jurisdiction once. Why do you keep bringing it up?"

   JG pointed at the dam in the distance.

   "Are there… dam… people… working the dam, 24 7."

   "Yeah, but…"

   "But nothing. I'll politely show them my badge, but if I get anything but what I want… I'm pulling my gun out. Reason? My coworker, who I like by the way… can we… walk out, across the dam? Throw them a line."

   "I have no idea if we're allowed to get access to the…"

   "Fuck allowed. CAN we. Can you get me up there? You're coming with me. You're the river experts, right? I'm not. They can open or close this thing, yes?"

   "Well, see… the opening and closing is done for the water flow, not for…"

   "Yeah. Normally. Not right now, though. Is a closed or open dam, better for us right now. Your opinion. Please. Advise me."

   "They're gonna be jogging it open and closed, trying to break up the little flood for a few seconds here and there. Dam open? That gets you out of the spillway, but… now you're over the wall. Which wouldn't be so bad, but… anything goes over the wall, gets temporarily caught churning around at the foot of the water flow underwater. Jugs come up maybe 15 minutes later from the go over, it holds you down there a little bit."

   The lead rescue guy paused.

   "My opinion, and I ain't comfortable giving it, but… closed. We take that wall, and drop lines out. We even have a little tripod line shooter. See, if it's closed, they're gonna hit that wall. Then, start moving slowly towards the spillway. We get a little time, and there's a couple ropes, plus the line launcher there."

   "As long as you know what's going on better than I do? Give me more advice."

   "Leave it open, and close it when you think you see him. That'll temporarily jog the water line down, give them time to float along the wall towards that spillway. We get what, four chances to fan out. First guy right at the spillway, he's the catcher. And the rest go out. They have to get past all four of us dropping lines, and we know where they're headed."

   "Okay. Take me there."

   The man did. When the night guard thought he was going to halt the agent and have some kind of a discussion? JG somewhat rudely just said it plain.

   "FBI. I'm in a hurry, you can see my badge. I don't think I need your name? But if I do, I can get it later. I'm in a hurry. If I have time, I'll stop on the way out, if I'm not rushed."

   The little stop sign arm didn't immediately go up. Police never came here, and the security guard was obviously unsure what to do with a new category of visitor.

   "Come on, zippy. Get the lead outta your ass, and get that thing up. Come on, let's go."

   He snapped his fingers a couple times, for emphasis. The little stop sign arm went up immediately.

   "Thank you for your cooperation. Where's the control panel at?"

   "Over there. That second, bigger door in the cement wall."

   "And the little walkway up there? How do we get up there, after we have a talk with the control panel guys."

   "Well see, that's the thing. When it's raining? That thing's off limits, even for the workers. It's a safety issue."

   "Yeah. That won't be a problem. It's my responsibility. You're worried something could go wrong? Just blame me. We're putting men up there after we get a hold of the controls."

   "If you say so. Not like I'm coming and trying to stop you."

   "Thanks."

   They ran over and up the cement stairs to the wall of cement with doors and a ladder. JG made the water rescue guys lead the way. He thought… what would Mike the Magician do? He figured Mike would pick out the water guys, and let them lead. They knew what they were doing. He found himself behind an entourage entering the control room quickly. Badge case flip, then right into it.

   "We want the dam open, and we want you to close it when we tell you."

   "Do you know when?"

   "Soon. Several minutes, maybe a few more. I got three people coming into the dam. We're gonna catch them at the suddenly closed dam wall, with ropes. So… you all on board with that?"

   JG found himself using his academy class on "handling the public". Out of several techniques given in the class, one had stuck with JG.

   'You nod your head and smile when you're issuing gentle commands. Get them nodding with you, then you have them.'

   A series of yes head shakes and a couple of verbal affirmations followed. They opened their dam up, while JG put a radio on the desk, and hit the third channel, unused.

   "When you hear me yell close it, on that radio? You close it, capiche?"

   "Okay."

   "How long to close it."

   "Eh… it can take up to a minute, the last little bit? But.. waters slopping around the top even before it's all the way closed. Thirty, forty seconds."

   "What's the time visibility for you guys. You see a beer keg coming, if you're waiting on it… how long from when you see it, to it goes over the wall."

   "Over a minute, I'd say. Minute and a quarter, maybe more. Guessing."

   "Okay. So if we're up there looking, we got plenty of time to shut the thing, right?"

   "Yeah."

   "You look me in the eyes, and you tell me you plan on closing it, the instant I tell you. No phone calls from your superiors, no paperwork, nothing. Right?"

   What seemed to be the crew leader guy nodded.

   "See. We'll do that later, that shit, if we even have to. You do this now, we're all good. Are we understood? I'm counting on you. I got three good guys in the flood, and I gotta get them outta there."

   The crew leader guy nodded again, it seemed like a go.

   "Okay. Guys?"

   The county water rescue guys jogged off to the ladder, and JG trailed them. At the top of the ladder, they were at a small cement landing. A short, stout cement box had an opening that ended at the top of the dam wall. The plan was to spread out so someone was nearby along the top wall. The last rescue guy closest to JG trailing them asked if he was going out on the wall to be an extra line down and an extra man up top to help haul them in. He nodded yes, and the water rescue guy started dressing him like a doll.

   "Arms up. Step into this harness… pull it up, there… this? Is your main defense to be safe. See these big clips on these lines? You clip them over the railing on that wall. Two safety lines. This way you always have one on, even if you're changing over a railing or something. Understand?"

   "Reminds me of rappelling. We had to do it in the academy."

   "You're good then."

   The guy tightened and snugged up the harness. The water rescue guy had other things on his utility belt/harness, but JG just had the essentials. The two safety lines and a carabiner clip of line to throw over and hope for the best. JG watched him clip both his lines on, and he followed suit. They walked down the dam wall and spread out. The one with the thermal barked out first. He had a decent heat signature just popped out from the distant river bend.

   JG held his chosen spot on the first wall. The water guys used to doing this were leaping and cavorting, and some had transitioned to the next dam wall of several that banded together in heavy built unison. It was assumed that Merry and a head damaged Panic, plus an unconscious victim… would be unable to make it very far back out the middle of the river. They were further out than water rescue would have guessed.

   The heat signature proved accurate, and JG radioed the controllers at the big panel.

   "We see them, we think. Hold."

   A voice answered him quickly.

   "Holding."

   JG said hold, and occasionally a voice said holding back. JG had to accurately time the closing of the lock dam walls. The water was lowering by having the walls swinging free and letting surge go right through. Out on the first wall, which was solid… they were spread out. The ones from the swinging wall were back on the first, waiting to see if they would be needed that far out, it all depended on where they came in to the wall when it was closed. Too early to tell.

   The more JG waited before issuing the close order, the lower the river pool was temporarily. Which was longer to have the locks closed, before overflow and the walls were completely non walk-able. The river survivors were coming in a good bit towards the second swinging wall, which was a shock to everyone that in the short time given the order to try to get further out… they had motored out quite a bit.

   JG looked at things he wasn't familiar with, and always morphed it internally into something that made sense to him. The dams strung together? Looked to him to be gigantic cement door frames, just tipped on their sides. The dam lock itself, was the door opening free. He saw a door frame in his head on its side, and the hinges were at his waist. The door would swing open and shut like a flap. You could walk on the thick "door" on top, and clip to the railings. Provided they were closed. This was temporary. This flood stage maelstrom of a normally quite peaceful and sedate river? Would go Niagara over the top of that tilted door frame, and quick. This section of river? Was nothing more than a gigantic bathtub that would overflow with a broken main water line filling it up in no time flat.

   JG finally yelled "close! close! close!", and a voice came back and said they were closing. Periodically it said "still closing". Eventually JG saw the wall tops leveling out as the big swinging cement walls were being drawn upright to close. The water guys that could get the furthest out the quickest zipped down the second wall, and one made it to the third just in case. He came back when it became clear they were a little past the mid point of the second swinging behemoth.

   Guys with lines dropped down to snag the survivors started at the last point for extraction before the deadly spillway chute. The dropped river level was inching back up though not quite visibly fast. You had to study a mark or spot then look later to detect movement.

   Everyone closed in except the last guy and everyone swarmed towards them, the closer they got. Panic and Merry both got a hand on lines and wound it a couple times around their wrist, for a safe hold. Merry just copied whatever Panic did. The largest amount of effort which took most hands immediately was trying to haul an unconscious and therefore uncooperative victim up and out. Panic made a lasso quickly at the end of a rope, then another, dropping both lassos under the guys arms to allow two people to haul the guy up. At five foot whatever and a hundred and whatever pounds, at least the guy was no linebacker to try to drag his full dead weight up the wall.

   All before the water level with the locks now closed, was steadily rising. Once it broke the top again, the walkway was a spillway. The unconscious guy was brought up first, then Panic got two lines to Merry and they were able to slowly haul her up. When it was clear the unconscious victim was dragged onto the safe cement landing, Merry was almost halfway escorted when the last two guys were trying to help Panic up and out.

   When it became clear they probably weren't going to make it before the top was breached, the one water guy was sent back. Panic was in and out periodically. When "in", he was sleepy and confused… yet himself. When "out"? He was still sluggish and confused, but moving on autopilot. In his state while out? He was still in Team Sigma. Why they were in the fresh water made no sense, but he could wonder the why of it later.

   With everyone else running for cover down the dam top like monkeys with their asses on fire, he knew he was looking up at the bravest man there. He had that pained, forced smile on his surprisingly calm face. The glance back at everyone else running for safety in time. Then back to him, looking down. That little smile that simply said "fuck it". He intuitively realized he was looking up as this team's Rob. Things were obviously tight, and he was deciding what to do.

   The last harnessed hero asked Panic if he knew how to use a breather can. Panic shook his head yes, and the guy pulled what wasn't much larger than a big can of spray paint, that had a little emergency scuba mask attached. He pointed to the grenade pin, and Panic shook his head he understood.

   Panic grabbed at an extra safety line off the guy's belt he offered down. The safety clips at the end, he drew the line into and out of it, forming a primitive noose. He did this on both ends and drew both nooses tight above his elbows. He was shackled in a fashion now to the railing. With a breather can strapped to his face, he had several minutes of breathing air, a teeny emergency scuba device. Water rescue 101 was for the guys to be able to be taken underwater for a couple minutes and be fine.

   Another of those little pained, forced smiles came down. Panic knew this look from experience. It was the look of a man who was either most likely a dead man and knew it, or was looking at another one. Him and Rob had shared that same look with both each other and other men before, he knew it well.

   "Stay on this side of the railing. Watch your ass, when you switch to the next railing. If you go over the top? The force of the water will hold you under for five or ten minutes, before you come up."

   The guy glanced over to safety one last time, and back.

   "The woman made it. You only have to switch one railing. Watch the cross over. Good luck and god bless."

   The guy nodded and took off, scrambling mad last to get to the safety of the cement landing before it went spillover. It was close. Panic now knew he had made the right choice. With his head injury he was dizzy and disoriented. He couldn't prance down the wall sprinting. Slow, deliberate movements? Entirely doable, so that's what he did.

   If the last guy had tried to piggyback him in, they would have both went over, or been under spill water tethered to the pipe for safety underwater. The last worker that risked staying behind to help him, barely made it even by moving quickly alone. Panic inched along the water now close to the railing, and rode it up to against the railing as the flood waters slowly crested over the railing on top. He waited to the last second before he yanked his one strap that was loose and snugged it on and then pulled the grenade pin device on the can top.

   He continued to inch along the railing when underwater became the only way. The powerful flow was in danger of flipping him over the pipe, but he hugged the pipe on the flow side. It half pinned him to the pipe he hugged at like a lumberjack on a rope for climbing. When the railing ended, it was tense to reach out and find the next one. He had to go free to find it. Like a rock climber who was free-climbing jumping up to grab another handhold. Transferring over to the next railing was hairy. It reminded him of rock climbing with Skykid. There was that tense moment when you switched safety lines. For a few seconds? You weren't attached. Several minutes later he found his forward movement cease; he was at a cement wall at the end of the railing. He got one free hand loose, reached his one hand up to explore how to get the rest of the way in, and hands grabbed at his wrist. He let his other hand go out of its elbow noose and hands grabbed that wrist as well now. He was hauled up in short order.

   He sort of deflated, and relaxed. Hard part's over, he could lay back. Someone in the crowd circling him like vultures undid his scuba safety can strap and removed it. Hands held him gently down and ran over him assessing any injuries he might or might not have. Ah, he thought. Definitely safe now. Field medics on me. Triage time. Voices clamored softly to take it easy now. Just identify yourself, all good. Adrenaline fading, he was going asleep. He quit fighting his eyelids, and whispered.

   "Sigma, Delta. Unit… two five six. O positive, no known allergy."

   "Good, good. Just take it easy. Thanks, we were worried about your allergies. Good to know…"

   "The guy I hauled in. He make it out, or---"

   "We got him, he has a pulse. Lady says he's probably drugged up, and he should come around. He's fine. More worried about you. Your noggin bump."

   He pointed to the back of his own undamaged head. One guy was cradling his head carefully onto a folded up towel he took out of ripped protective plastic. Sterile towel for his head, until they got him out. Until they triage-d him fully.

   Panic was half out of it, but was starting to suspect the pretty girl that he had been in the water with when he came to, might be his girlfriend. Which he sort of thought he had one. He looked at her and studied her. When she caught his visual staring, she smiled back. She shooed everyone away, saying she would do it.

   She sat down next to him and asked him if he knew her.

   "I'm guessing, you're my girlfriend. Survey says…"

   "Yes. You're still… confused."

   He nodded his head yes.

   JG had a few things he could always depend on. One of those old reliable items was his magical FBI ability to pick up his hand radio, and order any emergency vehicle he wanted. Fire truck, animal control… or an ambulance. One was arriving and they put a dizzy and unsteady Panic on a gurney and loaded him up and were speeding off. Merry rode in the back of the ambulance with him to the emergency room. A second ambulance took JG watching over the victim off. Breathing fine and with no injuries of any great note other than his head wound, relegated his in ride care to another sterile towel. Once at the hospital, he was stitched up for almost an hour straight, then they wanted head x-rays.

   The head x-rays could wait until the following morning. Merry ended up eventually watching over him in a private hospital room. JG was with her, taking a break from being a mother hen to the victim. Panic had about a four hour sleep before he stirred his head, and began talking somewhat more normally to Merry.

   "You know who I am now?"

   "Oh… yeah. Sorry I was… out of it. It was weird. I remember trying to figure out who you were. I'm… fine now in that department."

   "Hmm. So… you kinda saw me for the first time, in a way."

   "Yeah."

   "Well, what did you think."

   "The, uh… pretty girl? Was sticking close to me, and smiling at me, and touching my arm. I knew I had a girlfriend, but, I'll be damned if I knew what she looked like. I started… recognizing you… right after the ambulance ride, I think. It came on slowly. I was kinda rooting for the pretty girl, to be my girlfriend. It was like a game show. I won."

   "So… you have your memory back. You know what you were doing before the swim, right?"

   "Oh… yeah. I don't remember jumping in, but I remember I was going to, so, it wasn't that big a shock to wake up in the river."

   "Good."

   "Can I ask you a question now?"

   Merry smiled.

   "If you know who you're talking to? Sure."

   "What exactly the hell were you doing in the river too?"

   "You jumped off the bridge, to grab the victim if he was still alive. You were floating and not moving, when you finally came up to the surface. So. I jumped in after you. By the time I found you, you'd already found the victim. I figured you were hurt. Turns out you were."

   "You shouldn't have jumped in after me. I don't know what I smacked into, but I came to on the bottom. Stuck in the mud like a ripe carrot sticking up."

   "Yeah. I did too. They figured you hit a log."

   "Why a log…"

   "Well? There's a lot of logs floating around, first of all. Then, they said they dug a big piece of wet tree bark out of your skin before they stitched your head up. So, you hit a log. Mike and JG said they're trying to get the height of the bridge."

   Panic looked at a fixed spot in the middle of the wall, fingers moving as if going through files or combination locks, slowly. Merry was used to this, she thought of it as if she could see the gears turning behind his eyes.

   "I don't really remember falling. The length of time gives you the height."

   Merry now found it her turn to try to calculate and turn gears.

   "Maybe… two seconds, just about."

   Panic gave a weak smile.

   "Do you want the science boy explanation?"

   "Sure."

   "Gravity is a force, that equals 9.8 meters per second squared, commonly referred to as 32 feet per second squared. Two full seconds? At the end of second 1, you've traveled 32 feet. Per second, per second. After second 2, you have traveled an additional 64 feet. And… 64… plus the original 32… is what? 96, I think. Two full seconds of falling would be 96 feet."

   "Maybe a little over two seconds? I don't know."

   "Second 3? Would add another 96 feet. So… 96 plus 96 would be what? 90 plus 90 is 180, plus 6 + 6 is 12. 180, plus 12… 192, I think."

   "Okay science boy. One more quick test, to see if you're all back… up here…"

   Merry tapped her head for emphasis.

   "What's my nickname?"

   "Science girl. I'm starting to like Molly for a nickname, too."

   "Okay. You're all back."

   "Are you okay now?"

   "I should be asking you that…"

   "Well, are you?"

   "Yeah. The only thing is? I have trouble getting warm."

   "Me too. That's the lingering effects of hypothermia. Goes away in a couple days."

   Merry shrugged.

   "Apparently it takes an act of congress to raise the temperature in the room, the heating budget and all that, but… apparently hypothermia victims get special higher heat settings."

   "Yep. Extra blankets, too. Come on… just no funny stuff."

   She crawled under the covers with him to get warm and she decided he was lucid enough the every two hour wake up was no longer necessary. Laying there falling asleep, they gabbed. Merry idly described being blown around like a kite during the high bridge fall, and how she remembered his instructions at rape rock about jumping water. The mummy nose pinch. Then he surprised her.

   "Hun?"

   "Yeah…"

   "Did I thank you for jumping in and trying to save me?"

   "Well, you never lorded it over me about my motel apartment in DC that night. So… according to you and your… what do you call them… your… tough guy rules?"

   "Yeah. That's the official name for them. The tough guy rules."

   "Well, according to your tough guy rules, I'm not allowed to lord it over you. I'm supposed to… play it off, and act like it was no big deal, right?"

   "More or less."

   "Well… what would have happened, if I didn't jump in?"

   "If I hadn't of hit my head off a log, I'm real sure I could have gotten him into shore somewhere, before the dam came up. As it was? Take your pick. I might have gotten him just close enough to shore, to go out the spillway. Probably wouldn't have survived that. If we'd have just floated? I guess they'd have got the two of us at the wall, like they did. But thanks for jumping in to save me."

   "Hmm…"

   "What."

   "I owe you a couple more, really."

   "Aw. I did DC. You did this. We're about even. The bar, technically we did it together, so…"

   "Uh huh. And the… thing we never talk about?"

   "What about it. It doesn't count. It technically never happened. That's why we never talk about it."

   "Yeah. But I still owe you."

   He hugged her under the extra covers, in the cranked up heat in the room.

   "We don't keep track, honey. You're fine."

   It didn't take a long time to fall asleep like that. How long Panic slept, he wasn't sure. When he came back to consciousness, his first thought was orienting himself in the water. But, no water. That was done. He felt hot breath and a little drool that condensed from Merry breathing into his neck like she did when asleep. She hugged him in her sleep as if he were a giant teddy bear, really. He didn't want to wake her if he didn't have to. He didn't have a bathroom trip scheduled yet, Merry could sleep.

   He idly glanced around. The raised room heat and the extra blankets were as he remembered falling asleep. He didn't remember the tall young man sitting there watching him fall asleep; that was something new.

   "JG… what the hell. To tell a family secret? I sometimes wake up with morning wood. I just wanna tell you from the bottom of my heart, how glad I am? That you're sometimes watching to try to get a glimpse of it some morning. I'm truly touched. Really, I am."

   JG just sat there.

   "Is this important?"

   JG shrugged.

   "Good news or bad news…"

   "Good news."

   "Well?"

   "We flapped."

   "How so…"

   "I got a couple hours with the victim. Took over an hour, by the way, to convince him that you two didn't try to drown him."

   "And?"

   "And… after I explained everything to him ten or twelve times? He's priceless for information. I know what website chat room he hangs out in, that's associated with bitcoins. Yeah, he met a bitcoin whore and had an IRL meet up. He remembers walking with her and her girlfriends, then he wakes up in the water. With you two."

   "That's about what I'd figure on, if the girls drugged him."

   "That's where it gets better…"

   "Eh?"

   "Fresh blood test. They normally don't tox scan for Gamma, but… when asked to…"

   "Gamma present in the bloodstream."

   "Present? He took a bath in it."

   "Okay, so… where are we at? We have their travel dots recorded, and.."

   JG took over.

   "We have a victim found in most of the travel dot stops. We have them operating on video. We now have a live victim, and it confirms our theory. He meets a girl in a bar, and… that's all he remembers. After that? We have him and the girls on video."

   "A blurry shot of Bigfoot, or…"

   "Or. They're starring in their own little movie. I might have to make a few edits and put end titles and a splash screen on it. It's that good."

   "So… we're all good."

   "We need to effect an arrest. Well, arrests plural."

   "You already have a death movie. Now you have an… MO movie."

   "Mm. More or less. Now the live witness is just icing on the cake."

   "Subjects are unaware…"

   "Subjects are unaware."

   JG beamed.

   "We're golden, for now."

   "Well, if we're so golden… can me and her sleep in another couple hours? I finally got warm."

   JG waved and left. Merry was beginning to stir, and he got her back to sleep and pulled the covers up again.

   "Mm. Was that Junior…"

   "That was Junior."

   "Anything important…"

   "He flapped. Pigeon Man lives…"

   Merry giggled.

   "Mike was gushing about him, last time I talked to Uncle Mikey. If I had to guess, his days being a gopher for Senior? Are about over. His only issue, is that he suffers from thirty-itis."

   "30… itis?"

   "Yeah. At work, anyone under the magical age of 30? Is considered highly suspect to be in charge. It's not the kids, it's the older agents. So, they have a grooming program."

   "Grooming? At the FBI? Sounds so…"

   "I know, I know. That's just what they nicknamed it."

   "What does grooming involve then."

   "An agent earmarked for leadership? Gets groomed. Put into a kind of… co-leader pool. Being responsible for a case, start to finish, out in the field? Getting a win? That's like the principal. A groomed agent or two go out with the principal agent. Vice principals, then. They're not 'in charge', but… everyone knows that as soon as they hit 30 or 31? They're going to be."

   "How does grooming go for agents that are chosen."

   "Kinda like being a junior agent all over again. You're the new guy and everyone knows it. But… they also know you're going to probably be in charge soon, so… it's with a lot more good nature."

   "Sounds like one half is a training program for team leaders, and the other half? Just letting everyone see their faces, so they can get used to seeing them in charge one day."

   "Probably is. I know from reading, that underlings directly confronting their bosses is one of the biggest problems."

   "A boss is a boss though. He can come down on you for challenging him."

   "Yes and no. You act too ruffled when you're confronted? You come down too hard? You start to look weak to everyone else. It's worse than letting them do it all the time and never doing anything. What's your answer to this?"

   "I tend to let things go on a little too long? Then I address it. I make a joke about it, and go on like nothing ever happened."

   "Is that a best strategy?"

   "I doubt it. More of an easy strategy, that works. You want optimum? Get it from little Robbie, I guess. Why are you so concerned with my leadership strategies, I wonder."

   "JG is asking any agent with more years than him for advice. Taking it all in."

   "That's Junior now?"

   Merry scraped her head up and down on his shoulder to say yes. She spoke with her eyes closed, sleep coming back into her deep voice.

   "He managed a life or death crisis in the field, dear. Mike's words, not mine."

   "How does Senior look on this…"

   "You gotta remember. My knowledge of interoffice politics at the bureau? Is limited to talking to Mike. I don't spend any time in the offices to go through this stuff."

   "Okay. Papal dispensation granted, you're not liable. Go."

   "Agents under you? Are a lot like kids. If you get a genius kid, you look good for making him. If you have a fuck-up? It's the opposite."

   "So Senior looks good for having raised JG."

   "Yes and no. On the surface? Yes. But… to higher ups? Senior gave him lackluster reviews, and failed to make use of a good young agent. That tarnishes his luster."

   "What comes out of that?"

   "JG comes out of it. After grooming? You get either a Senior or an Uncle Mike… or… you never know what."

   "Before I let you go back to sleep?"

   Merry spoke muffled into his neck.

   "Interrogation involving loss of sleep? Is considered cruel and unusual torture."

   "So what's your career arc at the bureau."

   Merry giggled into his neck before answering.

   "Because I'm in an unusual line of work at the bureau? I'm out of everything. My main career? Would be to run other agents instead of being run. I'd run first one, then based on how that went? Others. Doing what I do. Help Mike pick them out of the academy and sort through them. You know… entry level Uncle Mikey work."

   "You wouldn't like that?"

   "Hmm. Helping to find and evaluate them and train them? I'd actually like that. But… running other agents? I don't think so."

   "Why not?"

   "The truth?"

   "No. Lie to me, I like it."

   "All coaches used to be star players. Not all star players should become coaches. I don't wanna find out how good I am at it, when someone else has their life hanging on the fish hook. I worked alone for almost 10 years now. Not sure I need to start overseeing people and putting them in danger."

   "Well, you're doing the one last big case. When that pops off, wouldn't that be the time to grab a job running agents? Momentum."

   "Yeah. Normally it would be. I got 10 years in. By the time this last thing ends, we're talking I'll have 15 or 20 years in. That's plenty. It's not like we need the money, right?"

   "Well. Each of us not knowing exactly what size the other's nest egg is aside… I'm pretty sure we could have cashed it in before all this started, and got by for life working part time jobs, never really wanting for anything. I mean, I know I could have. You?"

   "Seeing how you do it? Yeah. Just not in the city."

   "Money already not being an issue, I'd like to point out that my girlfriend and her boss are encouraging me, to break the law for profit. As long as no one gets hurt, it's fine. That the more I do it the better, for the next 5 or 10 years. I'm looking at that situation, as a license to print money."

   "I noticed. Speaking of living the good life… I can't wait to spend our first night in the new trailer."

   "I have work to do, you know. It's kinda just a box right now, until I get some utilities into the thing. But I know what you mean. It looks like a very comfortable box. I hope Bitty Kitty approves. Speaking for Mr. Fuzzy? I'm pretty sure he'll like it."

   "When do I get to meet the little guy?"

   "When all this is over? I'm bringing him down to live with me at the camp. I guess while you're gallivanting from trial to trial? Me and both cats will be getting nestled in."

   "I looked into that. Couple weeks up front. Getting interviewed and trained by the prosecutor's office. Then? I'll have mostly off for a long time, until we go to trial. That's on the dirty dozen. The schedule on the girls, is up in the air."

   Merry bit his neck gently and laughed.

   "I wanna sleep in another hour or two."

   "Me too."

   "Well, good night. Or good morning. Whatever covers it…"

   The next time he opened his eyes because he heard stirring in the room, it was a nurse. She first wanted blood pressure on both of them, then to take their temperature. Panic made a joke when she went for Merry's temperature.

   "Actually? She likes her temperature taken the fun way… she's that kind of girl…"

   The nurse looked at Merry as if to see whether it was okay to smile or even giggle at the joke.

   "It's all digital now, sir."

   "See? Takes all the fun out of it."

   The nurse flipped through their charts, and dutifully recorded their vitals.

   "Okay, first things first. How are you two doing."

   "We're honestly just sleeping… nothing's going on, ma'am."

   The nurse smiled at his constant stream of jokes.

   "How's your body temperature feel?"

   "I finally started getting warm last night."

   "Ma'am?"

   Merry rolled over and nodded.

   "Both body temperatures are fine. It's normal for you to feel cold for a while, even if you're not actually cold. Lingering effects of hypothermia. Modern medical science? Unfortunately, has no magic pills to treat hypothermia, other than warming you up."

   "Can we get the hot tub again?"

   "Maybe. Now… onto the other thing. How's your confusion. You had a head injury."

   Merry raised her hand like a little kid in class.

   "I've been checking that when we're awake. He… seems to know everything now."

   "Okay. Memory back, no confusion. You know him better than I can… no personality changes? Fear, anger, frustration…"

   Merry giggled.

   "Nothing that isn't normal."

   "All right. Today? We have… a noggin x-ray… and an MRI scheduled. With any serious head injury involving confusion in the patient, there's naturally a short going over by the neurologist…"

   Panic took over politely.

   "Yeah… we can skip that feature. All good."

   "Hmm. What do you want to skip, sir? The x-ray, the MRI… or the neurologist?"

   "Pretty much all three…"

   "Sir… you have to have some after care for a traumatic head in---"

   "Ma'am? Let me tell you how this is gonna go. The X-ray tech's gonna keep realigning my head in the screw plate, and keep taking picture, after picture, after picture… trying to get my face perfectly level. It ain't gonna work? And I don't want 10 years worth of x-rays in one day, for nothing. That's all."

   "Sir? I'm sure the x-ray tech is qualified, to---"

   "Didn't say he wasn't qualified. The problem? Is my head. It's not perfectly even. He's never going to get my eyes perfectly level, like he's been taught. Why? I had the left side of my face, pretty much rebuilt. I been through this before…"

   "Someone's been in a car accident. I'll make a note for the x-ray tech to---"

   "Yeah. Let's just call it the car accident, that's fine. Then, the MRI? They're gonna want more MRIs, because they see a hot spot. I already know there's a hot spot there. Been there for years, it's just fine like that."

   "Hmm. And your problem with the neurologist?"

   "Aw, for Christ's sake. He's gonna shine a light in both my eyes and check for pupil dilation. He's gonna scratch the soles of my feet and the palms of my hands with a pin, and make sure I can feel it. We already did this a dozen times already. Then? He's gonna wanna interview me, and do the flash cards and shit… so no."

   "Sir, you have to let us do our job a---"

   "Actually? No. I don't. This is a hospital… not a prison. In fact, I'm about to demonstrate it. Right now. I want a cigarette. I? Am going to go have one. Now… when I get back? If you guys have any problem with this, just bring me the paper. I'll sign it."

   "What pap---"

   "The paper. The one that says I acknowledge I'm going to die, and it's not your fault. Signed it before, I have no problem signing it again."

   "Sir, just calm down… you have to---"

   "I am calm. I'm not yelling, I'm not screaming. Actually, I'm not even arguing about it. Because there's no argument."

   "Sir… we---"

   "Ma'am? Let me put this in terms you'll find familiar. My body? My choice. Merry? You gonna give me a smoke and a lighter?"

   Merry fumbled around in her purse, and came up with a cigarette and a disposable lighter for him.

   "Sir… you can't just---"

   He talked as he was walking away.

   "Yeah… right… watch me…"

   The nurse sat and wagged her head at Merry.

   "Is he always like this?"

   "Like what."

   "Won't let the hospital staff do their job. Maybe you can talk some sense into him for me?"

   "He was freezing to death. He had a hole in his scalp. You stitched up his scalp, and you got him warm. I don't know what you want me to do. He's not going to sit here for a week, while you guys all play."

   "Play? This is a hospital…"

   She shuffled the papers on the chart to check…

   "Jane. Right. Like that's even your name…"

   Merry shrugged.

   "It is today."

   The nurse got up, slightly irritated and walked out.

   Merry knew where he was headed anyways. Down and out, likely through either the main entrance or out the waiting room off to the side of the emergency entrance. She idly pulled her now dry jeans on and slipped her jogging shoes on. Panic had just walked off in his hospital gown after pulling his work pants on and stepping into his work boots.

   It didn't take her long to find him. The smaller side entrance off of the emergency entrance was the right one. She didn't even have to find him by sight; she could hear the conversation going on at the far end of the little waiting room. Some security guard was, perhaps unwisely so, trying to bar the little side door with his body. Using that patented authority voice all security guards seem to develop.

   "Sir? You need to return to your room."

   Panic wasn't raising his voice, but he wasn't having any of this either. He gave a thin little smile, and glanced at the name tag on the uniform chest.

   "Is that your name then… Doug?"

   "Yeah. Now…"

   "Doug. This isn't going to be a long conversation. Get out of my way."

   "Sir? Now… take it easy. You have a head injury, I can't just---"

   Doug stuck his hand out and put his palm on Panic's chest. Panic giggled, pinched his nose and sighed, and kept his composure. He leaned in and smiled, seeming friendly, and spoke at a volume low enough they could have their conversation quietly and politely.

   "Doug? That's your one free one. You're putting your hands on me. Don't do it. I'm not telling you too many more times. Get outta my way. Now."

   "Look, I can't just let you go---"

   "Doug? I suggest you call a real police officer. If you think you're gonna try to prevent me from walking through that door, all you're gonna get is hurt. And I don't wanna hurt you. You seem like a nice guy. I'm trying to keep my voice down, and do this the polite way? So you don't look bad. But…"

   "Sir, there's no smoking on hospital property anyways. All tobacco products are contraband, so you might as we---"

   Doug made the mistake of putting his right palm firmly on Panic's chest again. Panic reached up with his left hand and had his entire index finger firmly in his closed fist. He used this to quite easily draw the guard's hand off him.

   "Ow ow ow…"

   "I tried to tell you, Doug. Now… are you gonna get out of the door, or… do you really want to spend some time as a patient in your own hospital, huh? I bet it's work related, so they don't charge you a penny for it. Or, you gonna be a good boy now…"

   "Ow ow ow…"

   Panic walked forwards, and more or less used his control of the man's index finger, to maneuver him out the door first, to open the door for him. When someone closed in on him from behind, he glanced over his shoulder, but only saw Merry there. She lightly closed the door behind her, and remained standing there. Some young nurse that had been going back and forth to the entrance desk there was coming to see what the problem was.

   When Merry felt the door open into her from behind, she turned around and stuck her foot on the thick glass door at the bottom. The woman in scrubs went to push on the side door a couple times before it registered on her that this woman had her foot on the bottom on the single door, holding it closed.

   Irritated, the nurse started wagging her head and saying something that wasn't audible with the door closed between them. Which was the point in time that she suddenly realized that the woman holding the door shut with her foot, was staring at her. This gave her a minuscule pause, and in that moment it dawned on her that she was looking straight out. At a woman standing on ground level to the footing she herself had. With nothing between them but almost an inch of expensive glass with a thick aluminum frame.

   It idly dawned on her that she had played this "hold the door" and "force the door" game with her co workers many times. Like children, the nurses would play door games with each other for a fun respite from work. The nurse realized she should be able to put her back into it, and lean the door open slowly. She hadn't been able to.

   That was the exact point in time that she realized she wasn't looking into the face of the woman when she looked out straight through the glass door. She was instead staring at the woman's chest, when she should be looking at her face.

   That was the exact instant where she realized exactly how tall Merry was, compared to herself. If she had the charts in her hand, she would still know Merry as only one Jane Doe. But the nurse knew she was an average sized woman all around. At between 5'3" and 5'4", she was completely an average young woman in height. Moreover, her weight for her height was fairly average as well. Slender little wrists and ankles paired with an equally slim little skeleton to go along with it. 111 pounds soaking wet with her purse and clothes on.

   Jane Doe's trademark hospital patient garment covered most of her body front on and in so it prevented her frame from being scrutinized by eye at a quick glance. The nurse was however quite used to sizing up patients as either thick or thin, and…

   This wasn't "thin" blocking her path. She was not only looking up at some woman that seemed to be nearly a foot taller than her, but… the woman's palm was on the door now as well as her foot. To help hold it closed. The hand looked like it could palm a basketball or a volleyball. That was because it indeed had done so previously in life. That hand looked as if it could just as well palm a small woman's head, and yank the hapless female around like a rag doll.

   The wrist was angled right there for her to see as well as everything else. The nurse had her hand up against almost the same place in the glass door, again because she had played this game many times, with many other women at this very door. The wrist was several inches above her own, and it dwarfed her own in comparison. The gown was open down the back in the typical hospital patient style.

   Planting a foot and a hand on the door, had Jane Doe's gown sweeping to show the jeans and tennis shoes she wore. Her other foot was shifted back to allow her to lean into the door game. This stance also put a line of her visible as she went slightly sideways, as the back opened up on the hospital gown.

   The leg parts visible finally made the nurse gulp slowly. She could see the thick, tan ankle from the jogging shoes slipped over the feet. Those didn't look particularly small either. Merry had the body shape normally reserved for shorter Italian girls. Curvy face, curvy hips, curvy arms and legs. The sort of girl that looked ever so slightly chubby, but in a cute way. Hourglass to the figure, to grace it with extra feminine curve.

   But judging by the meat of the forearm, then the thigh and calf muscles visible in the tight jeans… the nurse realized she was looking at something very dangerous for her size and shape. Her eyes instinctively looked up, up and up until she looked at the woman's face. Which really seemed pleasant enough. A somewhat playful but small smile, not unlike one of her own coworkers playing the door game with her.

   Until the look in the eyes changed. Jane Doe continued to smile as she briefly flicked her gaze down then up, sizing up the other woman. Merry treated her to a slow melt of her face, into what she was acutely aware was her monster face. The face that scared away her boyfriends, if she didn't watch it carefully. The nurse froze.

   Merry slowly opened the door, and had thrown one of her more pleasant faces back on. Her deep voice came with as soft a lilt as she could manage.

   "Do you need something, dear?"

   "I…"

   Stammering and pausing, the nurse pointed over at Panic and Doug the security guard. The guard was sitting down on a courtesy bench and Panic still had his finger, even though the conversation was quiet and hushed. No yelling and no fanfare whatsoever.

   "Oh. The boys are having a conversation, dear… how about we have a little chat too, hmm?"

   Merry reached in and put her hand around the woman's upper arm and gently all but dragged her out the door and closed it, right after poking her head in and scanning the room to see if they were raising any alarm. Then she turned her attention to the little woman she had just about bodily drug out the door, and the nurse now clearly realized that Jane Doe could in fact drag her around like a father hustles a little kid around.

   The nurse pointed again, over at what was going on a few yards away. Merry simply smiled and shook her head no a few times. Seemingly sweetly enough.

   "The boys are talking, dear. It's not polite to interrupt people when they're talking, okay?"

   When the nurse started to mumble something else, Merry corrected her.

   "Shh. That over there? That's nunya."

   "Nunya? What…?"

   "Nunya business. Am I making myself clear, honey?"

   Merry smiled, and nodded. Until the little woman started nodding with her.

   "See? The boys are having a little talk, and we get to have a little girl talk. See how that works out? All… nice and polite."

   Panic and Doug were winding up their own quiet conversation, then the security guard stayed seated on the courtesy bench and held his finger in his other hand gently. Jane Doe's male companion came over, and stood next to her. He smiled at the nurse and nodded his head for a silent and polite hello, then turned his attention to Merry.

   "Honey, you see that driveway there, right?"

   "Uh huh."

   "I'm going to walk up there. There's that little convenience store at the end of that driveway. I'll be back shortly. Are you coming to the store with me, or…"

   "No, we're done here. Right, dear?"

   The nurse nodded once, gawking up at Jane Doe smiling down at her.

   "Ma'am? Both me, and this woman here… if you check, you'll see we're signed in by the FBI. Now… if you're wondering what me and Doug over there were talking about? If I wanna walk and go somewhere, no one is allowed to stop me. See… the hospital people, they tell me what they want to do, then I tell them if I agree with them or not. Politely. When I say no MRI? I mean no MRI. My body, my choice. No one orders me to do anything, and no one puts their hands on me, and orders me I can't leave whenever I feel like it. Now… that was the gist of our little talk. If you were at all curious, I mean."

   The nurse just sort of blinked at first one, then the other one, then back and forth several times. She donned a fake, weak smile to show she thought that was a grand idea.

   Merry patted the woman on the shoulder, and spoke sweetly to her.

   "See you a little later, dear. Or not. I can find my own way back in, okay?"

   The nurse nodded with her. Merry and Panic walked off towards the driveway and the little store that lay just beyond it. They were walking slow and quiet, when Panic felt the need to break the silence and go for some of his trademark wit.

   "I just realized, I got a new nickname for you now. Figured I'd run it past you."

   "I'm all ears."

   "Merry… but, you're always getting checked in everywhere we go, as Jane Doe. Merry… Jane. Mary Jane…"

   "That's cute. I hadn't thought of that one."

   "I'm working on another one, but… it's not done yet, it needs refined. It's still baking."

   The nurse took a few seconds to get her bearing back and went back in. Merry idly grabbed her cell phone, and texted JG about the situation. JG texted to get the name of the guard, and said he'd handle it. Merry and Panic walked up to the end of the driveway, and waited for a break in traffic to cross over into the parking lot of the little convenience store. They shared a smoke, then went in and bought little food and drink items that they returned with in plastic bags.

   They met no resistance of any kind when they made their way back to the door. The nurse was gone back behind the admissions desk. When she saw Jane Doe was back, she found herself something she suddenly wanted to do in the next room out the back of her station. JG was standing over an again seated Doug the security guard. Having a conversation with him.

   Panic glanced from Doug to JG and back.

   "I see you've met Doug."

   "I have."

   "We good?"

   "Oh, we're fine now. In fact, I was just about to go have a talk with that nurse that Doug here said called him on the radio. You two wanna go with me for that one?"

   Panic and Merry smirked and Bluetooth-ed each other briefly.

   "Yeah."

   "Sure."

   On the way up and back to the private hospital room, Merry and Panic both opened up little drink containers as Junior gave them a somewhat humorous running commentary of how he just got done discussing the hospital's policy on dealing with non-compliant patients.

   Panic giggled and played along with JG.

   "Okay, so let me get this straight. Every patient checked in here, has voluntarily agreed to comply with any and all wishes of any hospital staff. I'm… what… hospital property or something?"

   "Uh… yeah. That? Well, that's their policy…"

   Panic giggled, and finished his little drink box and made the empty noise the little kid's drink box made when sucked on empty. He chortled again, as he idly crumpled up the drink box and tossed it over his shoulder. It made a hollow tumbling sound as it went back down the steps they were moving up and came to rest on a landing.

   Merry and Panic let JG handle the nurse in their room. She hadn't been far outside their room door when Junior corral-ed her and started asking her questions about what had happened.

   JG made a polite capital "T" with both hands, for a timeout on the nurse when she repeated herself one too many times with her story, and quite frankly was developing a slightly irritating tone with JG.

   "Time out, lady. Let me get your side of this straight. Now… you suggested x-rays, and MRIs, and some kinda neuro examination, right? And he said no x-rays, or no MRI, or whatever. Is that much correct? Yes or no."

   She fumed quietly. Her speech was clipped and piss venomous.

   "Yes."

   "Okay. This guy said he was going for a walk, right?"

   "He said he was---"

   "Yes or no. He said he was going for a walk, right?"

   "Yes."

   "Great. Now, this part of where you radio the security guard to… make him come back up here, I mean… what the hell are you even thinking. Do… you expect the security guards to tackle and taser the patient, if he decides he's going for a walk? Help me out here."

   "It is hospital policy, to---"

   "Time out, time out. Not trying to be rude, but… I don't care what you think your policy is. Let's just go yes no questions. Now… are you trying to tell me, that you think you can make the patients here, do something they don't want to do? Because if you answer me yes, then… I obviously need to talk to your supervisor. Someone's gotta be in charge here, that I can talk to. Because… this ain't getting it with me."

   "You make it sound so---"

   "Is that a yes? Okay… take me to your leader. Let's go. Let's get this over with."

   "I don't see what the prob---"

   "Ma'am. Did this man… oh, I don't know… did he, for instance… raise his hands to you? Did he threaten you in any way. Did he… overturn furniture, swear at you… anything like that? Or, did he just say no to a procedure. Politely."

   She said nothing.

   "Mm… Jane? Panic? What do you two need… want…"

   They looked up at each other, and back to JG before Panic spoke back to him for the both of them.

   "No MRIs. No neurological examinations, nothing like that. I do want a quick x-ray of the skull straight on from the injury view. See if there's a little crack there, or… if it was just a superficial scalp injury. That's one or two x-rays, not 88 of them."

   "Anything else?"

   "I mean, me and Jane here, we almost froze to death in the river last night. I like being warm, you know?"

   "You want more blankets, what."

   "Actually? No… they have this big stainless steel tub? Hot water. Other than one x-ray so I know if I got a crack in my skull or not? I got a splitting headache. I mean, I just fell about a hundred feet, and smacked my head off of a goddamned log."

   "Okay. One or two quick x-rays, just looking to see if there's a crack or not. And… the hot bath for the hypothermia. A pain pill for your headache. That's it?"

   "Yeah."

   "Sounds reasonable to me. Nurse? I don't care what your policy is with the other patients, I'm the FBI. This hospital is providing a service to me, and I'm a paying customer. Now… you can overcharge the FBI as much as you feel like it? I honestly don't care. Go on and waste as much of your own taxpayer dollars as it takes you to make the hospital happy. Fine with me. But… quick x-ray. Hot bath. Pain pill for his headache. Okay? Then you can go and do stuff for all the other patients with all the time you save. Okay?"

   She was nodding yes, and just then another security guard arrived. He started to ask the nurse if she needed anything, and if everything was all right up here. Then JG didn't even turn to acknowledge him in any real way, other than to just flip open his FBI badge case, and shove it in front of the man's face.

   "I got this. We're doing fine. Right?"

   The nurse nodded, and said everything was fine. JG started to talk to the nurse again, when he caught out of the corner of his eye that the security guard was still standing there, observing him and the nurse talking, arms folded over his chest.

   "I'm sorry. Do you need something else?"

   "No. Why."

   "Because… I'm having a private conversation, with the medical staff at the hospital I'm at. Do the doctors and nurses often consult you on the care and well being of their patients, in a medical capacity?"

   The security guard was obviously trying to choose his next words carefully and they were escaping him. The nurse waved her hand no at him, and told him it was fine, he could go.

   When he once again didn't leave, JG politely mocked him.

   "Bye…"

   A few seconds of nothing saw the guard turn around, shake his head and wander off, back to wherever he came from.

   "Do I need to talk to his doctor to get these things done? Not being rude, but…"

   "Actually, I'm this floor's practicing nurse. I'm sure you're familiar with hospitals, how they have more interns than doctors running around, treating patients? I'm legally more or less a permanent intern. If his stitches had been any less severe than they were? I would have stitched him up myself when he came in last night. I'm running 12 hours into a 20 hour shift."

   "So… you're his… doctor. Intern."

   "Informally? I'm what's known as a doctor nurse. The internal joke with staff? There's nurses that play doctor, and I'm one of them. You might be curious what I can do, and what I can't do. That's normal. It would be quicker, to explain what I don't do. I'm not allowed to perform surgery, and I'm not allowed to perform any complicated diagnostic workup. My job is to handle the more pedestrian hospital patients, that don't require any complicated diagnosis and course of treatment. Normal stitches, setting broken bones. Ordering tests, I even perform biopsies and send the tissue to the lab. I prescribe routine medications. The only reason I didn't do his stitches last night? Is because there was foreign matter in the wound, and it appeared extensive. If there hadn't of been a chunk of wood embedded in his head? He'd simply be another one of my routine patients I handle."

   "I'm not questioning your credentials, ma'am."

   "If you want to? I can ask to have an intern, or even a full doctor handle your patient for you, if you think he's not getting the level of care you think he should have. The patient presented with a traumatic head injury, and displayed great confusion and memory loss. A standard series of x-rays and MRIs are normal tests to administer. The confusion and memory loss? Indicates some level of TBI, or traumatic brain injury. It goes with the bad concussion. That? Is what the consultation with the neurologist is for. Would you mind if I show you something? I'm not a neurologist, and I'm not allowed to make a diagnosis. But… I am expected to make an initial clinical examination, and report general findings for the specialists. If I may?"

   JG nodded. She took out a ballpoint pen and held it aloft.

   "Watch this pen. No flashlights, I already know his pupil contraction and retraction responses have been normal since early this morning. All I'm going to do? I move the pen slowly around. In and out, then side to side. What's your name again, agent…"

   "Everyone calls me JG. Or Junior… I don't care. Take your pick."

   "JG? Watch…"

   She moved the pen in until he went cross eyed trying to focus on practically his own nose, then brought it back out and she watched his eyes cross and uncross smoothly.

   "Eye tracking is smooth and predictable. Binocular sight is working fine, it looks like. Now, let's check the lateral tracking, okay?"

   She moved the pen slowly to the left, and had Panic keep his head straight and only follow with his eyes. She held it at her far left, then slowly came back.

   "And that, JG… is what normal lateral eye tracking looks like. Tight but smooth. Now, the patient described to me, in conversation, that he had previous head trauma. Furthermore, that the trauma was on this side of his head…"

   She pointed without touching, using her pen as a pointing aid for her little lecture.

   "He reported a hot spot, which is a large scale anomaly that shows up on MRI scans. It's basically a localized or even generalized thin layer of scar tissue. The interesting thing, though… is that the left side of the brain? Controls the right side of the body. So… let's check lateral eye tracking on that side…"

   She ended up holding the pen less than the full angle on the other side, and as she held it, JG could clearly see the eye making a tiny popping motion, that went away as she brought the pen back in.

   "That? Is a slight nystagmus. When it's present without any signs or indications of intoxication of any kind? It makes TBI more plausible. Occipital and parietal impacts, along the center-line… usually don't interfere or aggravate one side over the other. The nystagmus present on only one side, and the patient's own verbal history of trauma… yes. I'll get a goddamned lecture if I don't strongly recommend x-rays, MRI's… and a standard neurological examination. But? You're perfectly free to ignore my advice on the MRI and the neurological exam. But… I will require the patient to sign a standard release form, to the effect that he understands that I strongly recommend those diagnostics, for the record."

   "That works."

   "Now, if we're clear on that, and you don't want a second opinion? We can rush down to x-ray, get those one or two quick injury snapshots, and see if there's any substantial skull integrity compromised. Normal whirlpool usage? That being standard physical therapy, doesn't normally start till 3 or 4 pm, on most days. For the pain? We've been trying to hold off on a painkiller, because it severely interferes with things like the eye tracking I just showed you. Once you sign the release against the neurological exam? I'm free to hand out something for the pain. Once you check out, a 5 day supply would be the normal scrip. If you want a second opinion other than mine? My feelings aren't hurt. I stand by my initial diagnosis. In legal terms? I'm not scared an appeal would overturn my decision, but feel free to launch the appeal."

   JG shrugged, and looked at Panic.

   "You can hear this. It's your call."

   "Doc? Yes, I'm aware that I have slightly less peripheral vision on one side, and that it's most likely due to a previous head injury."

   "Is it out of line for me to ask how the injury happened?"

   "For whatever reason, there was an explosion. A small piece of metal bounced off of my skull."

   "I see. As your consulting physician? I would be remiss in my duties if I didn't recommend a different line of work. Or, that you wear a helmet when you decide to go skydiving off of bridges without a parachute. That's just free advice, I don't require a waiver signed on that point. Now… x-ray? 1 or 2 snapshots. Yes?"

   "Yes."

   "MRI?"

   "No."

   "Is there any way I can talk you into even so much as an informal talk with the neurologist? Maybe, have him stop by the whirlpool while you get warm. Something like that. I understand you have a bad headache and hypothermia, you don't feel much like laying on a cold steel table being poked and prodded for an hour or two."

   "Doc, if my ass can be in hot water for it? Feel free to send Santa Claus in to ask if I've been naughty or nice, I don't care."

   "All right. No MRI. You get a quick x-ray or two, then I'll get you both in the whirlpool again. Now… if I can get the neurologist to pop in the whirlpool, or back here in your room here when he's going by? Just promise me you won't bite his head off. You do that, I only need the MRI release you sign off on. If you can hold off a little longer? I'd rather give you a painkiller after you talk to the neurologist. As I said, painkillers tend to interfere with any generic neurological diagnosis. Now, can I ask you a question about your headache?"

   "On a scale of 1 to 10?"

   "No. I'm sure it's an 11 on the Richter scale. My question, though. Can you point to the injury, and that's the exact localized spot that hurts? Or… is it more of a throbbing ache, covering more of the whole lower back of the head."

   "Small, steady, stabbing pain. Not heartbeat throbs. More of a come and go stabbing pain."

   "How big of a ball, does the pain ball feel like… an egg… a golf ball…"

   "Little bigger than a golf ball. Not quite like a baseball back there."

   "Last night, I drew a sample of the fluid in the egg on the back of your head. At about 9:15 this morning? The lab came back and said it was negative for cranial fluid. Smaller, localized pain ball description… coupled with stabbing pain, and not heartbeat throbs or wide coverage descriptions. Indicates less intracranial swelling. That, combined with the complete improvement in confusion and memory loss. Sounds promising. I get my MRI waiver, you say hello and goodbye to the neurologist? I'll get you damn near any painkiller you need."

   "Can I just chew up one Vicodin? Wash it down with a beer…"

   "Actually? I'm required to advise you? That you shouldn't chew up any pain reliever. Now, that said? I'm given to understand, that many people do, and report no ill effects from doing it. Obviously, I can't watch you swallow a pill, like a little child, so… if you really want to chew it up, against my official advice? No one would know if you did. Now, about the beer. I can't advise taking alcohol with any painkiller, at any time. That said, if you notice on the lunch and dinner menu? If your physician signs off on it, you can elect one beer with lunch, and again one beer with dinner. Or, a glass of wine with lunch, and a glass of wine with dinner. We don't offer tequila shots. Now, if you happen to have a Vicodin available at lunch, and again at dinner? It would be my advice, not to chew it up, and not to take it in close conjunction with that can of beer or glass of wine. Naturally though, you're attending physician is busy and has rounds to make continuously, so… if you did happen to chew it up and chug your beer… that would be your business. Feel free to either lie to me, or just not tell me what you choose to do."

   "Now… JG?"

   "Yes…"

   "The matter with the security guards. Now that we're all calmed down again, yes, we all got off on the wrong foot. We have a term we use here, it's called a non-compliant patient. That's a gentle euphemism, for example, if a drug addict goes psycho in the emergency room and we need to have security taser them for the safety of our staff. Unfortunately? That's the only term we have for any patient-staff complications that arise. If I had to guess? The FBI brought in two or three people last night, and security knows that. Security might have thought that they were… suspects or something like that? If they didn't know any better. In hindsight? It really didn't cross my mind when I got on the walkie talkie and asked security to ask someone not to leave. Maybe… you can see how something like this might have accidentally happened?"

   JG gave a weak little smile, but it was friendly enough.

   "This sounds like the part where we both shake hands and kiss and make up."

   "Does it? I know I'd be happier, for there not to be any paperwork over it. I do enough paperwork."

   JG sighed.

   "Same here. Look… all I care about? Is that these two here are doing fine. And, I got a witness in a locked room on another floor."

   "So… If I talk to security… you speak for these two?"

   JG shrugged.

   "Panic? Jane? Either of you two feel like any kind of official complaint, on paper?"

   Panic and Merry Bluetooth-ed, then Panic shook his head no.

   "There you go, ma'am."

   "Thanks. I'll talk to security for lunch."

   "Any chance talking to security is like talking to little kids?"

   The nurse doctor gave a tired little laugh.

   "They can be, yes. Why?"

   "I could buy security a couple pizzas, maybe that would make your little talk to the class go easier…"

   "I'll stop by and grab you for lunch. And you…"

   Panic looked up from talking with Merry. Merry poked him and smiled.

   "Sorry I was difficult with you, ma'am."

   "It's fine. This isn't your first hospital trip, is it?"

   "Ah, no."

   She picked up the short clipboard chart at the end of the bed.

   "We don't have anything but what you came in with, you know. I have no way of knowing you might have a recovered injury that's perfectly static. I'm afraid to ask what your normal medical records look like…"

   Panic indicated with his fingers, a somewhat sizable gap.

   "It makes sense. I saw you when you came in. You got more holes in you than normal. Let me guess… former military, right?"

   "Yeah."

   "You've had medical care in the field before. You're used to the VA…"

   "Yeah."

   "Come on. I'll walk you down to x-ray, and make sure they don't snap extra pictures."

   "Can she go with us?"

   "Sure. Putting both the post hypothermia patients in the hot whirlpool right after the x-ray, why not."

   She talked while leading them down.

   "You're in Pittsburgh. We got more than one big hospital here, and all the ambulance drivers know to sort through what they find and who to bring it to. Roughly put? People tend to get hurt, and get sick. This is Allegheny Trauma. We tend to get people that get hurt. The ambulance drivers run across someone that's sick, they go to one of the other hospitals. We get all the police and fire department personnel, anyone gets hurt. All the crime and accident victims, too. This place is a goddamn zoo, on a drinking holiday weekend. We mainly celebrate July 4th with all red, and not so much of the white and the blue."

   "Well, I jumped off a bridge and almost froze to death. Explains why I'm here."

   "Yeah, it does. There being a little… chaos with security? It's not like it's the first time it's happened, believe me. Once the sun goes down? We have yelling, pushing, shoving. Gunfire once. A couple stabbings. We have drug addicts flip out all the time. Cops bring injured suspects and crime victims in all night long. So everyone's highly agitated, to say the least. We're here…"

   She went in and talked to the x-ray tech briefly, and they squeezed in two x-rays of the back of Panic's head in a surprisingly short time, between two other patients. On the way out, she instructed x-ray to send her a text if they found any cracks, and to ship it up to the floor like normal if they didn't find anything.

   "Well. Here we are. Let me see…"

   "And the chart says? You can use this thing till… looks like 3:30. Do me a favor and try to be out by 3:15, maybe? Promise me to use the handles and be careful getting in and out. You don't seem to have any dizziness any more."

   "You're leaving?"

   She gave a tired little smile.

   "I'm off to the morgue."

   "The morgue?"

   "It's what we nicknamed our doctor's lounge. We take breaks and naps there. I can get a couple hour's sleep on a love seat, or we have cots in the back room there. The neurologist texted me he's going to stop by within the hour. Promise me you'll sign the MRI waiver, which will be back at your room, on the desk. I should be back around 4, to get the security guys on their shift break."

   Merry asked when she finally got to go home.

   "I don't. Not anytime soon, anyway. I'm on call, on site, 24-7 all weekend. I won't get out of here till Monday morning. My job, as a practicing nurse? The more rounds I can make, the more low level care I can handle, the more low level diagnostics I can handle? That frees up doctors to handle the bigger stuff coming in, and it's the weekend. I grab a couple hour nap any chance I can get it."

   "Doesn't sound like much fun."

   "It isn't. I see more of this hospital than I do my own apartment. I carry almost two weeks worth of my scrubs in a duffel bag. They're helpful enough to have showers and cots for the interns and doctors. Laundry does our scrubs, and they magically appear in a box by my locker. It's not how doctors live on TV, I can tell you that."

   Merry tried to make her feel better.

   "Well, it has to pay good, I figure. There's that."

   "Oh, that. Yeah, it's a good job as far as that goes. Honestly though? If you knew what doctors make, and how much we have to spend to be covered on insurance? I'm pretty sure I made more money working overtime being a floor nurse supervisor. I get paid like an entry level doctor, which isn't bad. The hospital picks up my insurance for a cut of my paycheck. But what's the point. I got a nice big TV I never get to watch, and a nice new stereo I never get to listen to. Nice furniture I hardly get to sit on."

   "You sound like you're…"

   "Burned out? Not yet, I don't think. Sure getting there though, if I had to guess. You see what my long weekends are. I get off Monday morning. I basically sleep straight through Monday and Monday night. Tuesday off, then I work Wednesday and Thursday. I assist in surgery, then make rounds as long as I can. Which gets me to Friday? And, as you can see… the fun starts all over again."

   "There's no way to work less hours?"

   "Well, yeah. I could just make rounds 5 or 6 days a week, but… that's not how you move up being a doctor. Now, if the interns and the doctors like your work? They take you under their wing, and let you do more diagnostics and care under their signature. Like assisting in surgery two days a week before my rounds. I'm not a surgeon, I'm a nurse playing doctor. But, if they like your stitches… you assist."

   "What's that like?"

   "Oh. Shooting victim, stabbing victim, car wreck. This is a trauma hospital. Lots of fresh holes in the cutting rooms. The surgeons take the lead, the surgical interns are all helping. My job? I get to close holes that aren't spraying like a faucet. I handle clamping arteries and holding it for the surgeons and interns to get the thing closed and the stitches started. Then? They can move on to the next hole, and I finish up the stitches. The surgeons are personally responsible for all the internist's work, and my work too. If they request your help? Your career goes up. They don't feel comfortable signing off on your sewing job? Your career stalls."

   "How's yours going."

   "My career? It hasn't stalled yet. The unspoken agreement, is that as long as I make myself available and live here all weekend, like another intern? As long as all the interns and doctors trust my work? I get paid better, and I'm padding my resume."

   "You get any… business being a nurse playing doctor? From the interns and doctors, I mean. Off the record, naturally."

   "Oh. The girl in a man's world thing?"

   "Yeah."

   "Ah, a little up front. Once the boys know you do good stitches, they see you're working 20 hour shifts like they are? They really come around. If you're curious how I know they came around?"

   "Sure."

   "It's when you're scheduled for a one hour nap. If you're one of the boys, so to speak? Someone will come by and reset your alarm clock, and go make your rounds for you, let you get another hour or two, because you're on a 48 hour shift, because someone called off or didn't show up. Then, later on you do it for other people now and then? Well, you're one of the boys."

   "So… you're one of the boys now."

   "I am. You mind if I ask about you, and your friend there?"

   "What about us…"

   "You two just work together. Maybe more…"

   "Yeah. We're a thing."

   "No offense intended."

   Merry smiled amiably.

   "None taken."

   "He should get a pain pill with lunch, then another two with dinner. Just in case one doesn't let him sleep through the night. Wait for the neurologist to pop in, and make sure that MRI release gets signed, if it wouldn't be too much trouble."

   "I'll see to it personally."

   "Thanks. You two have fun getting warm… and no monkey business, huh?"

   They both waved goodbye.

   Sitting in the hot swirling water, Panic was leaning back and had a hot washcloth over his face, leaning back.

   "So. Jane."

   "Yes, hun…"

   "I seem to be more of a catch than I would have previously thought, eh?"

   "What do you mean, dear."

   "Eh… kinda sounded like the nice lady doctor, was him hawing around, seeing if we were an item or not."

   "Yeah, she was. That feed your ego, huh?"

   "Hey. I remember the more my friends liked you, the better it was for me. Peer approval and all, I remember."

   "And…"

   "Well. You know I like smart, educated women. I mean, it's kinda my type and all."

   "I noticed how much you like science girl, yes."

   "Just saying. I must be quite a catch, I'm thinking."

   Merry smiled.

   "Oh. How long, do you want me to let you go along… until I burst your bubble, dear."

   "What do you mean?"

   "I suppose I really should let you go on a while, before I drop the hammer on you and all, but… I'm in a generous mood today."

   "What do you mean?"

   "Dear? My best guess, and this is just my guess, mind you, but… take it for what it's worth. She's not interested in you. If you take my meaning."

   "What do you mean…"

   "Honey? I spent a lot of years as a college athlete, right? You think I've never been hit on by a girl before? I mean, seriously."

   "You think, that's what just went on?"

   "Yeah…"

   "Seriously?"

   Merry giggled.

   "Hun… I get that, here and there… from femmes."

   "Femmes…"

   "She's a lipstick lesbian, honey. She doesn't date butch dykes, she likes…"

   "Girls like you, obviously."

   "Yeah. I only get that from the femmy ones. And if you're curious? The bull dykes don't say boo to me. Most I get from them, is they'll come up and ask if some little girl I'm out with at the party is fair game or not."

   "Hmm. So… I really should tease you about this a little, but… I won't."

   "Thanks. This started happening once in a while, in college. I didn't exactly handle it right the first several times."

   "What do you mean…"

   Merry sighed.

   "College coaches of girl teams? They have to deal with this shit. I didn't get this, in high school… but once I hit the college locker rooms? It became an… issue. Some girls freak out."

   "Oh. You mean…"

   "We talked about this, hun. I'm straight. I know I'm straight. Now… picture me younger. I'm a freshman, a sophomore… all us girls are in the locker room and the showers together. Use your imagination what happened. I'll give you a clue, dear. Remember what I told you I did to a boy that touched me, and I didn't like it."

   "You mean you…"

   "Oh. Yeah. I was late into the shower, and… let's just say that when I left the showers? One of the older girls on the team was laying in there, bleeding."

   "She said the wrong thing to you in the showers…"

   "Jokes are one thing. You put your hand on my shoulder and rub it? Well… whatever happens? It happens. Like I said. I didn't know how to handle it back then."

   "You get in trouble?"

   "No. It's a… college… women's sports… thing. By the time you're a junior or a senior? You know who all the girls are and what's going on. Like I said, college coaches that push women's teams? They're used to this shit."

   "Well… if the girl was making jokes, and you told her no… why would she…"

   Merry sighed.

   "Panic? There's some kind of thing in college, particularly in women's sports. Some of the girls figure, that… maybe I'm just shy or something… you know?"

   "Oh. Why would they think to…"

   "Why me?"

   "Yeah."

   "Honestly… same reasons you like me. You like tall, strong women… right?"

   "Yeah…"

   "You want that tall, strong woman… as… feminine as can be, right?"

   "Well, I like girls… so… yeah."

   "There you go, then."

   "And all this time… I thought I was gonna have to fight guys over you… turns out, I'm gonna have to square off with some girl."

   Merry laughed.

   "Honey? Remember I told you about the academy. They pulled me out of the girls PT, and stuck me with the boys. For PT."

   "Yeah…"

   "That's because I wasn't getting anything out of fighting with girls, at the academy. I had to fight with the guys, to learn anything."

   "What did you learn."

   "Oh. Reality. That's all."

   "Reality…"

   "Duh. I can run most girls over like a freight train, it's not even a contest. Guys? Are a different story. You want me to lie? Yeah… some guy that I take shits bigger than him, he can give me a real run for my money in a fight. It's the reality of the situation. You boys? You get a fucking blast of male hormones, at a certain week in the womb… and that's all there is to that. So yeah, as big and strong as I am, for a girl? I know I need to watch myself around men, especially men smaller than me. I know they can surprise me. Found that out at the academy, and it's not like I didn't already know it before then."

   "Is this all a sore spot with you?"

   "Not any more. I got over it, a long time ago. Little femmy girls hitting on me, knowing I can't fight a man my height and weight… yeah, I know about it."

   Panic still had the hot washcloth over his face.

   "Well, like I said. I won't tease you about it."

   "Oh. A little bit's fine. Just don't go overboard. It's not like it's my fault, I was born with an index finger shorter than my ring finger."

   "The hell's that got to do with the price of rice in china…"

   "You don't know about the… digit length test?"

   "No idea what you're talking about, there."

   "Well… look at my hand…"

   Panic idly lost his hot washcloth off his face to observe it.

   "What am I looking at."

   "Look how short my index finger is, as compared to my ring finger."

   "It's shorter… big deal…"

   "Okay. Look at yours."

   "Hmm. Mine's longer. In fact, my index finger is a little longer than my ring finger. So? I'm a guy, I'm supposed to have bigger hands, you know…"

   "If your pointer finger is significantly shorter than your ring finger? That indicates a big blast of testosterone and other male hormones in the womb at a certain week."

   "I'm afraid to ask, but… what if my pointer finger is longer than my ring finger…"

   "That's lower initial testosterone and male hormones, from birth, dear."

   "Are you calling me feminine?"

   Merry giggled.

   "No. But, if you would have gotten that extra blast of hormones? You'd be even taller, thicker bones, thicker muscles. The down side. Less impulse control. Less ability to sit still and figure things out. You can pick these guys out like a line up, you know. Big chin, big faces. Thick bones and legs. They tend to get mad, then quit being mad quickly."

   "You're calling me feminine…"

   "No, no I'm not. You never noticed that some guys are thicker and have big jaw lines? Other guys are shaped differently? Jesus. Those high testosterone males? They don't stay high testosterone very long. By the time you hit your mid 20s, your testosterone levels equal theirs. It's just a temporary thing, when they're young. Ends shortly after puberty."

   "So… what happens after that?"

   "Did you not describe to me, that you were… a late bloomer? You turned into a full blown tough guy in your 20s, right?"

   "Yeah…"

   "That was their testosterone falling, and yours? Staying steady. It's just a teenager thing. Ain't worth anything but for high school sports. Works against you for most book work, by the way."

   "So… I should just wear a skirt…"

   Merry laughed.

   "I'm not into that…"

   Panic laughed now too.

   "Honey? Do I look masculine to you? I mean, height and weight aside… am I not feminine?"

   "Yeah… you are. Your face… your curves… actually very feminine."

   "Well. I had a blast of testosterone in the womb. Because I'm a girl? My body just upped the estrogen, to compensate. Are you wondering how it works for guys?"

   "Not really, but… go on…"

   "The high testosterone guys? Get their estrogen upped, too. When they hit a certain age, well… sure you've noticed that some big guys hit middle age, and start getting man boobs. Getting fat… that's the estrogen. They had early high testosterone, so, their body upped the estrogen to compensate. As soon as their body starts to level out… their high testosterone starts to fall, and… they're left with high female hormones. Causes a whole host of medical problems."

   "Hmm. That's why a lot of male athletes start going to shit when they hit thirty?"

   "The high T guys? Yeah. Definitely. Guys like you? Don't have to deal with it. You won't start to notice any problems until about 50 or so."

   "Then I start to grow boobs and a clit…"

   Merry laughed.

   "You know better than that. I've seen you, around all kinds of guys. How they treat you. You? Are not feminine, and you know it. Everyone knows, that as men age? They lose their testosterone. It's fucking normal."

   "Yeah, but… see… I'm a low testosterone guy, and now I gotta deal with high testosterone bull dykes that wanna fuck you, so… what kinda pinch am I in, you know?"

   "And now? You're just being silly."

   "Yes. I am. I said I wouldn't make fun of you and tease you about it. Never said, I wouldn't get silly about it."

   Then there was a knock at the door. It ended up being the neurologist. He had a long talk about head injuries, and lateral tracking, and other things. Early in the talk, he asked if Panic wanted this talk alone, and he said no.

   In the course of the talk, after the initial tests were done… the man got quiet, than asked it straight out.

   "All right. You ever have a change of personality, from one of these injuries we've talked about?"

   "Would I even know that?"

   "Hmm. People that were used to being around you for years? You would hear things, as they talked about how you act differently. This or that situation. They might talk about… your eyes look different… your face looks different. Anything like that?"

   Panic didn't answer him.

   "Can I take that as a yes?"

   "You can take that as… I really don't talk about the look on my face much."

   "Why's that, then…"

   "That? Is why I was avoiding this whole examination. I don't wanna get a bunch of shit about my face, okay?"

   "I'm a neurologist. This is my stock and trade, sir. What I'm asking, is if anyone ever remarked about your… personality… or facial expressions? Changed after an injury you described."

   "Doc?"

   "Yeah…"

   "Let's play a game. You? Close your eyes, sitting there in that chair. You count to ten. Slowly. Then? You open your eyes. Okay?"

   "Uh… all right."

   When he was done counting to ten, and he opened his eyes… Panic was staring blankly. Right at him. The man smiled, then got nervous, then fidgeted around. When Panic was done making him nervous? He closed his eyes, then after a short time opened them… and once again was wearing his signature smirk.

   "I see."

   "Yeah. Like I said… I don't like to talk about the… look on my face that much."

   "Can… we talk about it?"

   "Sure. If it does something for you."

   "Okay. That… look. Did that… happen…"

   "After an injury? No. It's been like that my whole life. I hit a certain age, well… I learned to make a better face. Can we be done discussing my facial expressions now, doc?"

   "I suppose so. Are you at all curious… what or how or… why?"

   "Not in the least. Don't care. I like me just fine."

   "I see…"

   Merry adjusted her seat along the inner well her and Panic were both sitting on in the hot stainless whirlpool. She quit scooting when she was seated right next to him, and he put his arm around her shoulder.

   "My name's Jane Doe, doc. Wanna see my face?"

   "Why not."

   Merry was smiling, with one of her more warm and expressive faces she wore.

   "Now… close your eyes, and count to ten, doc…"

   He did so. When he opened his eyes, Merry was hanging her head over the edge of the whirlpool, chin on her hands on the rim. Looking at him. Looking at him, with the face that made her college boyfriends run and hide from her.

   When she was done watching the man squirm, she did what Panic had done. She closed her eyes, and opened them to her previous face. Warm, smiling, expressive.

   "I'm not what you'd call exactly neurotypical, doc."

   "Do… you know…"

   "What that is? Yeah, I do. I'm what they call a healthy sociopath. Do you like my mask? I learned to make my masks in drama club, by the way. Took me a couple years."

   "I see. And you…"

   Panic grinned.

   "What about me."

   "Are you…"

   "A sociopath? No. I actually have it on good authority? That I feel the entire range of human emotions. They just don't show on my face. And once again? No… this didn't just happen after some injury. Been like this since I was born."

   "All right. You two, you make quite the couple, don't you…"

   Merry smiled and piped up amiably.

   "Yep. People say we make a cute couple. That we're… made for each other."

   "Yeah. Well… the point of this, was to determine if there was anything related to your most recent head injury. Based on your verbal history, and upon examination… I'm gonna say no."

   "Doc? Are we well met?"

   "Um. We met professionally, so… I'm gonna say yes. Are we?"

   "Hey, sure. I was just told, to be nice to the neurologist. I can't afford to get a bad report on meeting you. See… I jumped off of a 100 foot bridge, and I hit my head off a log. So… I got a splitting headache like you would not believe… and I can't have my first pain pill, until we're done here. Are… we good?"

   "Oh. Sure. You folks… you carry on. I was told you both had bad hypothermia, that's why you're in the whirlpool."

   Merry smiled a little more.

   "Yeah."

   "Well? I'm done here, if neither of you two have any further requests or questions…"

   Neither one seemed to pipe up about such.

   "Well? Enjoy you're hot soak. Stay warm. I'll just be going…"

   "Bye…"

   "See you…"

   After the man left, they waited a little while, then the giggling started. Merry worked her way onto sitting sideways across his lap in the hot water, and threw her arm around him and put her head on his chest.

   "What do you and JG call everyone else?"

   "Oh. Normies…"

   "Yeah. Fuck the normies, right?"

   "Yep. Fuck the normies."

   "Hmm. That? Was fun. I'd have never done that, if I wasn't checked in under Jane Doe, you know. Plus… you did it first, so. But… yeah. I feel…"

   "What?"

   "Good. Told you before. I can be myself with you. You make me feel like a normal person."

   "Well… enjoy it. If he comes back with… normie reinforcements? We're not gonna feel very… normal."

   Merry giggled into his chest.

   "We're getting close to lunch, you know."

   "So? We got this whirlpool till what… 3:15, right?"

   "I was thinking about your pill you get with your lunch, really."

   "Oh. I forgot about that."

   "Well. Would you like to go get your lunch? You can chew your pill up with a glass of wine. I'm just sure they only have the best vintage here, right?"

   "Pffft."

   "I know, but still."

   "Ah. Wait a little bit. I bet we can hear the meals cart go by, if we listen."

   "Okay…"

   Merry curled up on his lap in the hot water to wait.

   "Honey?"

   "Yes dear."

   "You know I'm a little worried about you, right?"

   "About what. We're warm. Case is going good. We'll get to start to move on soon. What's to worry about."

   "You really beat yourself up when you were younger."

   "Well. Technically? I didn't beat myself up. Other people did it for me, you know."

   "Yeah. I'm pretty sure you know exactly what I mean. You have a little bit of brain damage from all that… whatever you call it."

   "Hun? That line of work. Yeah, it's hard on your body. You're gonna get hurt now and then, it happens. It's not like it's the only line of work where men get hurt regularly."

   Merry was speaking sideways into his chest the way she was sitting on his lap.

   "Oh. Here you go. It's just completely normal, to get shot, stabbed, and blown up at work."

   Panic sighed.

   "Professional football players? Get bad concussions and injuries all the time. They're lucky to get to keep playing till they're 30, let alone a few stars keep it up a little longer. And yeah. What I was doing? I admit it… it's a young man's game."

   "Football players don't get shot and stabbed. At least, not at work."

   "Cops do. SWAT guys are probably the closest thing I can think of to a civilian version of what I was doing. Race car drivers get hurt all the time. Stunt men. Hell, rodeo guys get all broken up, and you don't even know how bad rodeo clowns get hurt sometimes."

   "Well. Pro football players? They get paid millions of dollars."

   "Counter point. Rodeo guys? The joke is they just do it for the big silver belt buckle. It's not always about the money."

   Merry didn't quite whisper into his wet chest, but it was close to that.

   "I thought you might be dead. When you didn't come up right away. After you jumped."

   Panic paused before answering.

   "Then why the hell did you do it. Jumping right after someone else didn't come up… doesn't sound like good odds."

   Merry paused then practically whispered.

   "All in. And… maybe I like being in the… Panic Club."

   Panic paused before responding equally quietly, rubbing her shoulder.

   "Oh."

   They sat there either enjoying or enduring the silence, whichever it was, for a little while. Eventually Merry picked her head up, and swiveled it around. Intermittent noise was making it's way down the hall outside.

   "Sounds like that might just be the food cart."

   "Hospital cuisine. Yippee."

   "Come on…"

   Merry got up and out of the big stainless whirlpool and got dried off. There was a stack of inexpensive terry cloth robes, wrapped in plastic. After seeing how her robe fit her, she tossed it and went for a bigger size. Then she cajoled him out, and helped him dry off and got him into a plus sized robe as well. The world's cheapest flip flops were in another stack as well. Back at their private two bed room, the food cart had made it's delivery. With the food trays, they each had a comically tiny wine bottle next to their food trays.

   "Looks like the little bottles of wine you get at some weddings. Honestly, I don't know where they get them this small."

   "Well. At least I got some after dinner mints. That's something."

   Panic up dumped the little paper shot glass sized container that held a couple of pain pills for him. He looked at the slip of paper they were sitting on, and made sure they weren't particularly powerful. When they were done eating and joking about the food, Merry unwrapped the little shrink wrap plastic that let her get to the screw top on the wine.

   "No cork. Must be the really good stuff."

   "Naturally."

   Merry filled up an empty plastic cup with the cheap wine, and picked up one of his little mints, as he called them. She put the rest back in the tiny paper cup, and put them on the night stand between their beds.

   Panic held his hand out for the pill, and Merry grinned and shook her head. She opened her mouth as if showing a little kid to open up, then put it on his tongue for him and gently closed his mouth with her palm gently on his chin.

   "Chew."

   He smirked and ground up the little pain mint to powder, and made the predictable face at the sour taste. Then she handed him the plastic cup, and stood there gesturing.

   "Drink."

   "Hey. No taking advantage of me, okay? I can't really give my consent, what with alcohol and drugs in my system, you know. Wouldn't want you to get in trouble."

   He leaned back and closed his eyes, laying still, ostensibly waiting for a little relief from his splitting headache.

   "We'll wait a while and see. If you don't feel better, you're chewing up another one later on. And you're definitely getting one after dinner, regardless."

   Merry put TV onto some random game show, and lowered the volume enough that it drowned out the random hospital noise to some extent, but would hopefully not stop him from getting some sleep if possible. When he stayed still with his eyes closed long enough, she laid on her own bed and watched the game show mainly out of boredom.