Chicago Med fic: Restitution (9/10)
PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
PART SEVEN
PART EIGHT
PART NINE
PART TEN
-o-
The gang member took them to the front door, where there was a tense exchange with security that allowed Will and Adam to pass back in with nothing more than glares and cocked triggers. Inside, Will’s adrenaline was surging, and Adam recovered his wits a touch faster.
“Okay, so how many people are left?” he asked quickly, rounding on Will.
Still shellshocked from what he’d just done, Will wasn’t quite able to answer.
Had he really gone out and negotiated with gang members?
Did he really think his plan of trading goods for safe passage was going to work?
What if everyone died?
What if it was all his fault?
Could this be his last stand?
His last stupid, stand? His final mistake?
“Halstead!” Adam said, taking him firmly by the arm. “Listen to me. How many people are left?”
Adam was looking at him, expression tense. Adam could seem happy-go-lucky a lot of the time, but this was who he was when the chips were down. At his core, Adam was calm, rational and competent.
Will wasn’t sure who he was anymore.
“I know you are scared -- and you should be -- but this is your idea, and I cannot do it alone,” Adam said.
Will’s breath caught, and he felt a sudden swell of tears. The security men were watching them now, but Will’s self confidence was paralyzed. “What if I’m wrong?” he asked hollowly. “What if this whole thing is wrong?”
“Then we are dead either way,” Adam said. “You have bought us a chance, and I do not know if it will work, but it is better than the alternative. It is a chance, Halstead. I will help you, but you must lead now for all our sakes.”
Will would lead.
Wasn’t that the kicker? Will, who had been fired for his own blind stupidity. Will, who couldn’t be trusted to make a single good decision. Will had ruined his career at every single turn. He had burned through his relationships, his credibility, all of it.
And here Adam was, trusting him -- not just with his life, but the lives of everyone left. He was trusting him with the last shreds of the hospital they had both loved and served.
Will wanted to fold now -- he really did -- but it wasn’t an option.
This wasn’t blind loyalty, like with Natalie. It wasn’t impulsive overconfidence, like with Sabeena.
This risk was calculated.
This risk was weighed.
And this risk was the only thing left.
“Okay,” Will said, drawing a breath and realizing that he still knew how to breathe. The oxygen flooded his mind, and it galvanized his senses. The numbness retreated. The doubt was put aside. “Okay.”
He spoke louder, more certainly.
Adam drew himself up taller. “So what do we do first?”
That was a simple question.
And Will, despite all odds, knew the answer.
-o-
The good news was that 90 percent of the hospital was empty. Moreover, everyone was already positioned in the ED, which would make exiting far easier.
The bad news was that the people who were left were critical patients. Moving them would be easier said than done, especially since there were only a few accessible ambulances, and each critical patient would take up a significant amount of space.
By a quick estimation, Will figured that they could take the three most critical patients, pairing them with three medical staff and one additional patient who was stable enough to ride in an upright position.
After filling the three ambulances, they would have to get more creative, but Will would take this one thing at a time.
They had already triaged the remaining patients, and Will went with the most critical one first. After fielding the necessary staff, he directed them to the front door, staging them in a line. They could take nothing with them except the barest medical equipment. When they balked at the idea of going out into a throng of armed criminals, Will didn’t know what to do. So he told Adam to prep for the second ambulance run, and he took the first group himself.
The security checkpoint was still tense, but Will was getting used to it by now. The sight of guns was still overtly terrifying, but Will had nearly been killed several times today. If he let himself feel that terror, then nothing would get done.
“Okay, eyes ahead, just follow me,” Will coached, leading the first group out in single file. The patient bounced on the gurney, one of the nurses trembling to keep up as she mechanically ventilated him. “Just keep moving.”
The gang had rearranged its position, providing better coverage of the entrance and the ambulance bay. The entire path was marked out with armed guards, a few of whom looked less than thrilled about this arrangement. Will didn’t dare hesitate; he couldn’t give anyone a reason to turn this safe passage into a massacre.
The patient was loaded first, followed by one of the nurses. One of the attendings from surgery got in front to drive, taking another patient recovering from heart surgery along with him to sit in the passenger’s seat. A final nurse -- someone from up in neurology -- squeezed into the back, and Will made sure they were all secure before directing the attending to take the road to the safe district up the block.
Next to him, the man with the gun was back. Will dared to look at him. “You will give them safe passage all the way out?”
“No one will fire without direct provocation,” he confirmed. “But you will have to hope your gambit works at the checkpoint. My influence goes no farther.”
That was an unknown factor, and Will didn’t have time to consider it more fully. He was going to have to operate under the assumption that no one else wanted to die today.
With that, Will nodded to the driver. “No sudden movements. Don’t veer off course. Approach the checkpoint slowly -- they won’t know you’re coming.”
The attending gave him a dour look. “This plan seems slipshod.”
Will didn’t have any means by which to deny it. “It’s all we got.”
She nodded. “At any rate, it’s better than nothing,” she said. “If this doesn’t work, thank you all the same.”
“It’s going to work,” Will said, not because he knew, but because he had to believe. “It’s going to work.”
She didn’t disagree as she pulled away, slow and cautious from the curb. The ambulance lurched slowly along, and the path of armed men watched it as it moved inch by inch.
The man came up alongside Will. “Have you really thought this through, Doctor? Do you know what you are doing?”
“Not really,” Will admitted. He lifted his eyes and made eye contact. “How about you?”
The man chuckled, nudging him with his gun. “Keep moving, then,” he said. “You are down to 45 minutes.”
-o-
With one round done, Will at least felt some confidence in what he was doing. He had no way to verify that the ambulance had made it out safely, but he figured that blowing up an ambulance was a lot more trouble than shooting them dead right here at the hospital. Sure, he was putting his trust in a bunch of gang bangers who had already killed a few dozen people in the last day alone, but beggars could not afford to be choosers.
And Will was a beggar, and he had no delusions otherwise.
Back inside, Adam had the next group rounded up. Looking at the queue of patients, Will made the executive decision to load an extra patient in the next group. Three patients; three staff. It would be tricky, but doable. They didn’t have to make it far, just far enough.
He hesitated less on his way out, directing Adam to bring up the third group for the remaining ambulance. They would have to make some hard calls on the last of the critical patients, but that was just how it was going to be. Will took the lead once more, the first one out the door, barely flinching at the guns pointed at him this time.
This time, one of the nurses took the driver’s seat, and the three patients were strapped down as best they could with IVs and ambo bags still in play. Will gave this group the same directions, telling them not to turn back for anything.
When the nurse hesitated, Will assured her that he was right behind her. This was their only way out.
The process was much the same for the third group, but Adam had come up with the idea to put only two staff members, thereby allowing four patients in this group. Three were technically still on ventilators, but only one was completely nonresponsive. It was a gamble, putting them in there without proper support for a time, but the orthopedic surgeon who geared up to take them seemed confident he could manage to ambo bags at once.
It was risky, sure, but it was the best play they had right now. After all, there was no telling how long the truce would last. The gang members were increasingly unsympathetic, and Will could see how their posture stiffened every time Will entered and exited with a fresh group of people. The promise for protection was good for what it was, but Will didn’t pretend like the terms couldn’t change at a moment’s notice. Every time he walked by armed, angry men with nothing more than a stethoscope and barren hope, he was putting it all on the line.
Jay would have his ass for this. He would lecture him about the poor choices. He would go on and on about police procedure, and how you don’t negotiate with terrorists.
But that was why Jay was a cop.
And Will?
Will was a doctor.
With the third ambulance off, Will caught the eye of the armed man who had served as the point negotiator. He looked grim and he pointed at his watch.
Will nodded back.
He got the message.
If it was meant to inspire fear, then Will was well past that point. The driving adrenaline had eclipsed his numbness and shock. It was all action, now. Reaction. Moving forward like an inevitable force. He would keep going.
Until someone made him stop.
-o-
Will made his way back through the security checkpoint only to find Adam waiting for him. The rest of the patients were lined up, and he had divided out the rest of the staff.
“I think we can get most of them in two trucks,” he said. “The ones parked out front -- the supply rigs. They were supposed to go back to our storage facility two towns over.”
“Okay,” Will said. “But those rigs aren’t rated for passengers.”
“And this hospital is no longer safe for patients,” he said. “I think we do it. Unless you disagree.”
In the grander scheme of bad ideas for the day, this one seemed decently reasonable. Will looked back at the line of patients. “It’ll cost us some space, but we can wheel the gurneys right out for those who aren’t mobile,” he said.
“It will be safe that way, as long as the drivers are careful,” Adam agreed.
“We can start sending the security forces now, a few in each truck,” Will said.
“But there are only two trucks,” Adam said. “I do not think it is safe to fit everyone on them.”
“How many will we have left over?” Will asked.
Adam shrugged, as if going over the numbers in his head once more. “Five,” he said. “Maybe seven.”
“So that’s the size of a normal SUV,” Will said. “Yours is out front, right?”
“Yes,” Adam said. “And if we transfer all the patients now--”
“Then we can cram the remaining staff and security personnel in the trucks,” Will agreed. “I mean, it’s crazy.”
“Then it might just work, Halstead,” Adam said. “I’m ready if you are.”
Too many people thought that ready was a choice forward.
Sometimes, ready was an acceptance of the inevitable.
Whatever came next. Good or bad.
Will was ready.
-o-
After moving so many people, Will wanted to think he was used to it, but it never did get easier. The spike of anxiety he got when moving people out never changed, and these patients were harder to move than any of the rest. They required constant attention, and Will was struck more than ever by the question of right or wrong.
Was he risking these patients’ lives unnecessarily?
Did the risk outweigh the benefit?
They were moving full gurneys, transportable monitors, O2 tanks -- all of it. They scrambled to bring as much necessary medication as they could, but it was something of a crap shoot. A portable defibrillator wasn’t a crash cart, and when Will loaded up Adam’s surgical patient, who was still just a few hours post op, he knew that he could be flippant about this.
That said, he also couldn’t stop. He took as many precautions as he could and loaded patient after patient, hauling lights and surgical trays just in case. The trucks were not equipped for patients, and Will was well aware of the potential for injury by just driving with gurneys in the back. They minimized the risk by collapsing the gurneys to the ground and locking the wheels, but even with personal escorts for each patient, it wasn’t a guarantee.
One truck was filled, though, and Will saw it off personally.
The guards were watching him as he continued to work, but he didn’t stop, didn’t slow down.
“This is not looking good, Halstead,” Adam murmured as they got the next patient ready. “The guards -- they do not look happy.”
“Yeah, and when has this looked good?” Will quipped back, testing one of the portable monitors and securing the patient’s chart on the end of the gurney. He glanced back, toward the commotion outside. “Has our liaison said anything?”
“No, but he watches,” Adam said. “And I think his colleagues are growing more restless than he is.”
“Is it safe to take these patients out?” Will asked.
Adam gave him a look. “Is it safe not to?”
Will inclined his head, unlocking the gurney’s wheel. “Then, let’s go.”
-o-
The tension was so thick that it was nearly suffocating. The remaining staff looked emotionally spent, as though the idea of death had simply become too pervasive to stress over. The security staff evacuated with a mix of relief and fear. They had to leave behind their guns, and they all understood how much leverage they were giving up.
It was an extension of good faith, which might have been easier were these men not armed attackers. Words weren’t cheap exactly, but they certainly could be expendable. His words meant less with nothing behind them, and theirs were uncomfortably thin in return.
In other words, the accord was hanging by a thread.
And Will wasn’t holding the scissors.
But he was dangling over the abyss along with everyone else left behind.
The men with guns were getting closer with every pass. The men in charge grew increasingly dour. This was a powder keg, no doubt, and Will was just trying to avoid any sparks.
Without patients, the movement went quicker at least. It only took a matter of minutes to load up the second truck. Will felt a surge of relief when it loaded out, secure and untouched through the line of gangsters,
That just left Adam, Ahmed, one more security guard and Will.
“We need to go,” Ahmed said, fingers still tight on his gun as he eyed the scene from the front of the hospital. “This will not hold, and I have no means to protect us now.”
“You are right,” Adam agreed. He looked to Will. “I fear we have extended our timeline too much.”
“We need to make one last sweep,” Will said. “Just to be sure there’s no one left behind.”
“We have made sweeps,” Adam said.
“And I do not exaggerate,” Ahmed added. “This is not good.”
Outside, Will could see the group of men start to shift. The movement was purposeful, and he spotted a fresh addition of men from down the street, approaching at a good clip.
“This is our last chance, though,” Will argued. “If we leave someone behind…”
Adam’s face was pinched in inevitable agreement. “They would never survive. But, Halstead, the risk…”
“Is ours to bear,” Will said. “I know the risk, but I can’t live with the idea that I could have done more. I started this. I have to finish it.”
Adam nodded, finding solidarity now. “There are no other options. Our imperative as doctors is clear.” He turned somberly to Ahmed. “I understand the risk I am asking you to endure.”
Ahmed sighed tiredly. “And my imperative is to protect yours,” he said. “I leave when you leave. Just, for all of our sakes, hurry.”
-o-
Ahmed had a point, but Will didn’t need it made. He could almost hear Jay’s disapproval, and he reminded himself that if he came home in a box, his brother would be the last Halstead standing. Will was obligated to save lives, and that included Jay’s. By extension, that included his own.
And when you got right down to it, Will didn’t have a death wish. Jay was the one who put his life on the line. With a gun in his face, Will had nearly fallen apart. Given all that was going on, Will was surprised he was still functional at all.
Of course, what option did he have? Inaction was death now. He was too far in. He’d closed off his exits, limited his possibilities. This was it. He would finish it. Or it would finish him.
To get the sweep done, he and Adam split the hospital by floor. They agreed to check each ward and run through all the rooms, stopping even to open closets, exam rooms, operating theaters, and all the rest. They would each clear a stairwell, and Adam would take the roof while Will handled the basement.
Moving quickly, they could each make good time. Plus, this hospital was nowhere near the scale of Med.
That being said, Will couldn’t afford to be naive. This was going to take some time.
Time he didn’t have.
But he did it.
He cleared each room, each closet, each ward, each hall. He scoured the basement, and took the stairwell twice just to be sure.
Back in the ED, he found Ahmed with his lone guard, looking increasingly stressed at the front. Adam had just gotten back, also empty handed.
“Looks like your evacuation was successful,” Adam said.
Will stepped to the door and looked out. The men had converged closer; there were more of them than ever. “Just four people left,” he said. He glanced to the small group. “Are we ready?”
Ahmed was sweating, and his guard gave a nervous little shrug. Adam, though, smiled.
“I don’t believe that we are ever ready,” Adam said. “I believe that sometimes we just have to accept that which we cannot change and make the best choices we can. We have done that, my friends. I believe we have done that.”
Accepting what you cannot change.
Making the best choices that you can.
Will had come so far, and just for this.
For this.
He nodded. “I’ll go first? This was my plan.”
Adam braced him by the arm. “We go together.”
-o-
They had been in and out multiple times over the last hour or so, but this time, it felt different. The gangsters had converged, and Will saw a line patrolling ever closer to the hospital. He and Adam exited in tandem, hands up.
Behind them, Ahmed and his fellow guard made a display of putting their guns down, also exiting with their hands up as they crept carefully and slowly across the threshold.
Their point man approached. “And where are you going now?”
“Last group,” Will told him. “We’re going to leave, all of us, and whatever you do next, there are no questions asked on our part.”
Adam and Will held steady in their negotiations, allowing Ahmed and the other guard to move past them to Adam’s SUV, still at the front of the lot.
The man looked twitchy, and he looked at Ahmed and glanced to his cohorts grouped together not far away. “We had a deal,” he said.
“And we’re going to honor it, I promise,” Will said. “There’s no one left inside. In five minutes, we’ll be gone, out of your hair. We’re almost clear.”
It was a promise, all part of the bargain.
The terms, however, were apparently negotiable. The man sneered at Will. “Almost -- is not what we agreed to,” he said. “Look at the time.”
He held up his watch and flashed it in Will’s face, as if that meant something.
“I told you, it’s the last load,” Will said. “I just need five more minutes--”
The plea had seemed innocent enough in Will’s ears.
The man did not take to it kindly, though.
Will always wanted a little more, a little more, a little more.
It just figured that the time he ran up against a brick wall, it was a guy with a gun.
“We have given you plenty,” he said. “I am starting to think that this deal you have made is not enough. I am starting to think the terms are not fair.”
Will saw the last of the staff being loaded up, and he just needed another minute. A minute he wasn’t sure he had. He just had to keep the guy talking, keep the guy focused on him.
He kept himself steady, holding up his hands once more. “Just let the truck pull away,” he said. “Then, the playing field is yours.”
Across the ambulance bay, Adam gave him a wary look. He was standing by the open door, half beckoning Will to join him.
As if Will could.
The man wasn’t pointing the gun at Will.
But he had the gun and he stepped closer to Will still.
It was the same foreboding feeling he’d had when Ms. Goodwin had fired him. All his excuses, all his pleading -- it wasn’t going to be enough. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t say anything.
But this time, breath catching uncertainly in his chest, he had to try. “See?” Will asked. He gestured to Adam. “It’s just the two of us left. We’ll get out of your way--”
The man still hadn’t raised his gun, and there was a familiarity in his expression that Will had come to know and trust over the last few hours. Not that the man was particularly sympathetic to Will -- and not that he wouldn’t kill Will where he stood -- but that he didn’t want to. Whatever his reasons for being here was, killing unarmed medical professionals wasn’t part of his plan.
But plans were always bigger than one person.
One man never determined the course of an operation.
Will often forgot, of course. That was why he thought he could get promoted above Ethan. That was why he thought he could break the rules of the trial not once, but twice. That was why he’d thought Sabeena would still take him back. That was why he’d honestly believed Ms. Goodwin wouldn’t fire him.
Will had an over inflated view of his own worth, his own power, his own ability. Will was like a child who still believed that he was the center of the universe, that the world ebbed and flowed for him. He thought every exception was due to him, and even now, he was dumb enough to believe that his luck wouldn’t run out.
The man showed signs of giving, but another man came up. Will recognized him from earlier, but he had not talked to him. From Will’s limited vantage point of the conflict so far, it was impossible to tell who was in charge -- exactly. The first man had been their contact during negotiations, but he hadn’t made the final call -- at least not on his own. This man had been involved in that decision, and he was bigger, stronger -- and he was strapped with guns and knives in excess.
When he came over, he pursed his lips and looked Wil up and down.
“Your time is up, doctor,” he said, using the title without conferring any actual respect behind it. His accent was thicker, his English more stunted. “You said we could take anything left behind--”
Will knew what was coming. He looked anxiously to Adam, hoping that he understood that now was his last chance to leave -- to take the others and leave Will behind.
Adam shook his head, because he did understand.
He understood and he was holding out for Will anyway.
This new man in front of him understood as well. He stepped in front of Will’s line of vision, looking down at him with near bemusement. “What? The American is here to save the day? Are you the savior, white man? Is that the ploy?”
Will knew better than to resist. The taunts were meant to chafe, and Will couldn’t give them the satisfaction. Worse, he knew there was some validity to it. Doctors and their God complexes; Will couldn’t forget the role he was playing here. Adam could still get out. The others could still be safe. Will wasn’t negotiating for his own life anymore -- but theirs.
“You ignore me?” the man asked. He shoved Will roughly, causing him to stumble. Adam made a sound of protest, but another man jerked a gun in his direction. The first man pushed Will again, this time hard enough to lose his balance. “You too good to talk to me?”
Hitting the ground hard, Will winced but didn’t let himself cry out. He kept his head down, his arms up. “I’m just trying to do the job. Stick to the deal.”
“And I am supposed to trust you?” he asked. He lashed out, kicking Will in the ribs.
The force tossed him on his back, and Will seethed with pain. He could hear Adam shouting as he got back on his knees.
“No, I think you are a better hostage than you let on,” the man said. He drew closer, smirking down at Will. “Maybe the confusion is what we need. Maybe American news coverage is just what will help.”
“The deal--” Will started, but he was cut off. This time, the butt of a gun caught him across the face, and everything went black and his ears rung. When he hit the ground, pain erupted and Will blinked in vain against the darkness encroaching his vision.
“--the deal is not yours any longer,” the man yelled down at him, almost vindictive now. “You have no security force left to mediate. You have no more leverage. I can take you and the hospital--”
To prove his point, the man stomped on Will’s chest. Will heard the cracking of his ribs even as his vision cleared marginally.
“I am his boss -- it is me you should take!” Adam was yelling somewhere. Will wanted to protest, but his voice wasn’t working at the moment. “Halstead!”
Still floundering on the fringes of his unconsciousness, Will realized dimly that he was being held up. Placed on his knees, Will swayed dangerously, but someone cupped his chin. Blearily, he opened his eyes, and the man’s dark eyes stared him down.
“Maybe you are worthless,” he muttered, sounding disgusted. “Not worth my time and energy.”
The declaration was a grace.
The declaration was a condemnation.
There had been a time when Will’s pride had objected. But Will’s pride was back in Chicago, having been unceremoniously fired. It hadn’t made the trip with him.
“I’ll leave, let you do what you need--”
Moving slowly with his equilibrium still off kilter, Will started to get to his feet. The man stepped forward, punching in the gut, holding onto his shoulder to keep him upright while he wheezed.
“I will take what I need,” the man agreed. “And what I want as well.”
Will’s vision was hazy and doubled; he didn’t see the next flurry of blows as they took him to the ground. He lost track of things after that, not quite unconscious but not in control of himself any longer. He was aware vaguely of the beating -- cracking ribs, a broken nose, a missing tooth -- and then something hit his head and everything went suddenly and totally black.
And somewhere, in Chicago, the morning shift was on duty. Ethan was back to work, and Ms. Goodwin was having coffee. Dr. Charles was consulting on a patient in the ED, and Maggie was on the phone with Ben talking about what to make for dinner that night.
Natalie was getting Owen ready for daycare. Carol was taking her medications.
Jay was at work, trying to focus on his case, but the news alerts kept pinging on his phone.
Again and again and--
Will woke up, vision badly blurred. Badly disoriented, Will tried and failed to get his bearings. His stomach churned, and the pain in his head ratcheted up. He tried to take a deep breath and failed miserably. It was all he could do to stay conscious, but he wasn’t sure why it mattered. He wasn’t sure--
“I assure you, he is more trouble than he is worth as a hostage,” someone was saying. Will could make out a blurred figure above him. “He is an American. You do not want him.”
“That’s instant media coverage -- credibility--”
The figure cleared just enough, and Will remembered who he was: Adam. That was Adam.
“No, it is an invitation for disaster,” Adam said. “Do you want the American army in here? NATO? They will wipe you out.”
Will lost track of the voices again, and the strings of words were no longer things he could decipher. Then, he was dragged up. The change in position made his head spin. He may have passed out -- honestly, he wasn’t sure -- but he was kept upright by a hand fisted in his hair.
“Then, take him,” someone growled, and Will was forcibly thrown forward, where he collapsed back on the ground. “You have ten minutes to get out of this neighborhood or I promise, I will kill you all with my bare hands and leave your bodies for the news vultures to find.”
He was picked up again, still too dazed to do anything, but this time, when he found his feet, a securing arm braced him.
“Come, Halstead,” Adam’s voice was hot and loud in his ear. “You must help me now, more than ever.”
Will wasn’t sure what that meant, but then they were moving forward. His feet fumbled, and he felt himself going down. Adam grunted, hoisting him upright again, and Will did his best to help. One foot, two feet, forward, forward. The pace picked up, and Will felt his consciousness dim once more even as he doggedly kept his focus on the movement of his feet.
When they stopped, Will barely noticed, and he was dragged onto a carpet, long limbs splayed out around him. There was yelling, and then, Adam’s voice was distinct. “Go! We must go!”
Everything lurched forward, and Will couldn’t hold on any longer. He heard the sound of skidding tires before the pain enveloped him and he passed out.
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR
PART FIVE
PART SIX
PART SEVEN
PART EIGHT
PART NINE
PART TEN
-o-
The gang member took them to the front door, where there was a tense exchange with security that allowed Will and Adam to pass back in with nothing more than glares and cocked triggers. Inside, Will’s adrenaline was surging, and Adam recovered his wits a touch faster.
“Okay, so how many people are left?” he asked quickly, rounding on Will.
Still shellshocked from what he’d just done, Will wasn’t quite able to answer.
Had he really gone out and negotiated with gang members?
Did he really think his plan of trading goods for safe passage was going to work?
What if everyone died?
What if it was all his fault?
Could this be his last stand?
His last stupid, stand? His final mistake?
“Halstead!” Adam said, taking him firmly by the arm. “Listen to me. How many people are left?”
Adam was looking at him, expression tense. Adam could seem happy-go-lucky a lot of the time, but this was who he was when the chips were down. At his core, Adam was calm, rational and competent.
Will wasn’t sure who he was anymore.
“I know you are scared -- and you should be -- but this is your idea, and I cannot do it alone,” Adam said.
Will’s breath caught, and he felt a sudden swell of tears. The security men were watching them now, but Will’s self confidence was paralyzed. “What if I’m wrong?” he asked hollowly. “What if this whole thing is wrong?”
“Then we are dead either way,” Adam said. “You have bought us a chance, and I do not know if it will work, but it is better than the alternative. It is a chance, Halstead. I will help you, but you must lead now for all our sakes.”
Will would lead.
Wasn’t that the kicker? Will, who had been fired for his own blind stupidity. Will, who couldn’t be trusted to make a single good decision. Will had ruined his career at every single turn. He had burned through his relationships, his credibility, all of it.
And here Adam was, trusting him -- not just with his life, but the lives of everyone left. He was trusting him with the last shreds of the hospital they had both loved and served.
Will wanted to fold now -- he really did -- but it wasn’t an option.
This wasn’t blind loyalty, like with Natalie. It wasn’t impulsive overconfidence, like with Sabeena.
This risk was calculated.
This risk was weighed.
And this risk was the only thing left.
“Okay,” Will said, drawing a breath and realizing that he still knew how to breathe. The oxygen flooded his mind, and it galvanized his senses. The numbness retreated. The doubt was put aside. “Okay.”
He spoke louder, more certainly.
Adam drew himself up taller. “So what do we do first?”
That was a simple question.
And Will, despite all odds, knew the answer.
-o-
The good news was that 90 percent of the hospital was empty. Moreover, everyone was already positioned in the ED, which would make exiting far easier.
The bad news was that the people who were left were critical patients. Moving them would be easier said than done, especially since there were only a few accessible ambulances, and each critical patient would take up a significant amount of space.
By a quick estimation, Will figured that they could take the three most critical patients, pairing them with three medical staff and one additional patient who was stable enough to ride in an upright position.
After filling the three ambulances, they would have to get more creative, but Will would take this one thing at a time.
They had already triaged the remaining patients, and Will went with the most critical one first. After fielding the necessary staff, he directed them to the front door, staging them in a line. They could take nothing with them except the barest medical equipment. When they balked at the idea of going out into a throng of armed criminals, Will didn’t know what to do. So he told Adam to prep for the second ambulance run, and he took the first group himself.
The security checkpoint was still tense, but Will was getting used to it by now. The sight of guns was still overtly terrifying, but Will had nearly been killed several times today. If he let himself feel that terror, then nothing would get done.
“Okay, eyes ahead, just follow me,” Will coached, leading the first group out in single file. The patient bounced on the gurney, one of the nurses trembling to keep up as she mechanically ventilated him. “Just keep moving.”
The gang had rearranged its position, providing better coverage of the entrance and the ambulance bay. The entire path was marked out with armed guards, a few of whom looked less than thrilled about this arrangement. Will didn’t dare hesitate; he couldn’t give anyone a reason to turn this safe passage into a massacre.
The patient was loaded first, followed by one of the nurses. One of the attendings from surgery got in front to drive, taking another patient recovering from heart surgery along with him to sit in the passenger’s seat. A final nurse -- someone from up in neurology -- squeezed into the back, and Will made sure they were all secure before directing the attending to take the road to the safe district up the block.
Next to him, the man with the gun was back. Will dared to look at him. “You will give them safe passage all the way out?”
“No one will fire without direct provocation,” he confirmed. “But you will have to hope your gambit works at the checkpoint. My influence goes no farther.”
That was an unknown factor, and Will didn’t have time to consider it more fully. He was going to have to operate under the assumption that no one else wanted to die today.
With that, Will nodded to the driver. “No sudden movements. Don’t veer off course. Approach the checkpoint slowly -- they won’t know you’re coming.”
The attending gave him a dour look. “This plan seems slipshod.”
Will didn’t have any means by which to deny it. “It’s all we got.”
She nodded. “At any rate, it’s better than nothing,” she said. “If this doesn’t work, thank you all the same.”
“It’s going to work,” Will said, not because he knew, but because he had to believe. “It’s going to work.”
She didn’t disagree as she pulled away, slow and cautious from the curb. The ambulance lurched slowly along, and the path of armed men watched it as it moved inch by inch.
The man came up alongside Will. “Have you really thought this through, Doctor? Do you know what you are doing?”
“Not really,” Will admitted. He lifted his eyes and made eye contact. “How about you?”
The man chuckled, nudging him with his gun. “Keep moving, then,” he said. “You are down to 45 minutes.”
-o-
With one round done, Will at least felt some confidence in what he was doing. He had no way to verify that the ambulance had made it out safely, but he figured that blowing up an ambulance was a lot more trouble than shooting them dead right here at the hospital. Sure, he was putting his trust in a bunch of gang bangers who had already killed a few dozen people in the last day alone, but beggars could not afford to be choosers.
And Will was a beggar, and he had no delusions otherwise.
Back inside, Adam had the next group rounded up. Looking at the queue of patients, Will made the executive decision to load an extra patient in the next group. Three patients; three staff. It would be tricky, but doable. They didn’t have to make it far, just far enough.
He hesitated less on his way out, directing Adam to bring up the third group for the remaining ambulance. They would have to make some hard calls on the last of the critical patients, but that was just how it was going to be. Will took the lead once more, the first one out the door, barely flinching at the guns pointed at him this time.
This time, one of the nurses took the driver’s seat, and the three patients were strapped down as best they could with IVs and ambo bags still in play. Will gave this group the same directions, telling them not to turn back for anything.
When the nurse hesitated, Will assured her that he was right behind her. This was their only way out.
The process was much the same for the third group, but Adam had come up with the idea to put only two staff members, thereby allowing four patients in this group. Three were technically still on ventilators, but only one was completely nonresponsive. It was a gamble, putting them in there without proper support for a time, but the orthopedic surgeon who geared up to take them seemed confident he could manage to ambo bags at once.
It was risky, sure, but it was the best play they had right now. After all, there was no telling how long the truce would last. The gang members were increasingly unsympathetic, and Will could see how their posture stiffened every time Will entered and exited with a fresh group of people. The promise for protection was good for what it was, but Will didn’t pretend like the terms couldn’t change at a moment’s notice. Every time he walked by armed, angry men with nothing more than a stethoscope and barren hope, he was putting it all on the line.
Jay would have his ass for this. He would lecture him about the poor choices. He would go on and on about police procedure, and how you don’t negotiate with terrorists.
But that was why Jay was a cop.
And Will?
Will was a doctor.
With the third ambulance off, Will caught the eye of the armed man who had served as the point negotiator. He looked grim and he pointed at his watch.
Will nodded back.
He got the message.
If it was meant to inspire fear, then Will was well past that point. The driving adrenaline had eclipsed his numbness and shock. It was all action, now. Reaction. Moving forward like an inevitable force. He would keep going.
Until someone made him stop.
-o-
Will made his way back through the security checkpoint only to find Adam waiting for him. The rest of the patients were lined up, and he had divided out the rest of the staff.
“I think we can get most of them in two trucks,” he said. “The ones parked out front -- the supply rigs. They were supposed to go back to our storage facility two towns over.”
“Okay,” Will said. “But those rigs aren’t rated for passengers.”
“And this hospital is no longer safe for patients,” he said. “I think we do it. Unless you disagree.”
In the grander scheme of bad ideas for the day, this one seemed decently reasonable. Will looked back at the line of patients. “It’ll cost us some space, but we can wheel the gurneys right out for those who aren’t mobile,” he said.
“It will be safe that way, as long as the drivers are careful,” Adam agreed.
“We can start sending the security forces now, a few in each truck,” Will said.
“But there are only two trucks,” Adam said. “I do not think it is safe to fit everyone on them.”
“How many will we have left over?” Will asked.
Adam shrugged, as if going over the numbers in his head once more. “Five,” he said. “Maybe seven.”
“So that’s the size of a normal SUV,” Will said. “Yours is out front, right?”
“Yes,” Adam said. “And if we transfer all the patients now--”
“Then we can cram the remaining staff and security personnel in the trucks,” Will agreed. “I mean, it’s crazy.”
“Then it might just work, Halstead,” Adam said. “I’m ready if you are.”
Too many people thought that ready was a choice forward.
Sometimes, ready was an acceptance of the inevitable.
Whatever came next. Good or bad.
Will was ready.
-o-
After moving so many people, Will wanted to think he was used to it, but it never did get easier. The spike of anxiety he got when moving people out never changed, and these patients were harder to move than any of the rest. They required constant attention, and Will was struck more than ever by the question of right or wrong.
Was he risking these patients’ lives unnecessarily?
Did the risk outweigh the benefit?
They were moving full gurneys, transportable monitors, O2 tanks -- all of it. They scrambled to bring as much necessary medication as they could, but it was something of a crap shoot. A portable defibrillator wasn’t a crash cart, and when Will loaded up Adam’s surgical patient, who was still just a few hours post op, he knew that he could be flippant about this.
That said, he also couldn’t stop. He took as many precautions as he could and loaded patient after patient, hauling lights and surgical trays just in case. The trucks were not equipped for patients, and Will was well aware of the potential for injury by just driving with gurneys in the back. They minimized the risk by collapsing the gurneys to the ground and locking the wheels, but even with personal escorts for each patient, it wasn’t a guarantee.
One truck was filled, though, and Will saw it off personally.
The guards were watching him as he continued to work, but he didn’t stop, didn’t slow down.
“This is not looking good, Halstead,” Adam murmured as they got the next patient ready. “The guards -- they do not look happy.”
“Yeah, and when has this looked good?” Will quipped back, testing one of the portable monitors and securing the patient’s chart on the end of the gurney. He glanced back, toward the commotion outside. “Has our liaison said anything?”
“No, but he watches,” Adam said. “And I think his colleagues are growing more restless than he is.”
“Is it safe to take these patients out?” Will asked.
Adam gave him a look. “Is it safe not to?”
Will inclined his head, unlocking the gurney’s wheel. “Then, let’s go.”
-o-
The tension was so thick that it was nearly suffocating. The remaining staff looked emotionally spent, as though the idea of death had simply become too pervasive to stress over. The security staff evacuated with a mix of relief and fear. They had to leave behind their guns, and they all understood how much leverage they were giving up.
It was an extension of good faith, which might have been easier were these men not armed attackers. Words weren’t cheap exactly, but they certainly could be expendable. His words meant less with nothing behind them, and theirs were uncomfortably thin in return.
In other words, the accord was hanging by a thread.
And Will wasn’t holding the scissors.
But he was dangling over the abyss along with everyone else left behind.
The men with guns were getting closer with every pass. The men in charge grew increasingly dour. This was a powder keg, no doubt, and Will was just trying to avoid any sparks.
Without patients, the movement went quicker at least. It only took a matter of minutes to load up the second truck. Will felt a surge of relief when it loaded out, secure and untouched through the line of gangsters,
That just left Adam, Ahmed, one more security guard and Will.
“We need to go,” Ahmed said, fingers still tight on his gun as he eyed the scene from the front of the hospital. “This will not hold, and I have no means to protect us now.”
“You are right,” Adam agreed. He looked to Will. “I fear we have extended our timeline too much.”
“We need to make one last sweep,” Will said. “Just to be sure there’s no one left behind.”
“We have made sweeps,” Adam said.
“And I do not exaggerate,” Ahmed added. “This is not good.”
Outside, Will could see the group of men start to shift. The movement was purposeful, and he spotted a fresh addition of men from down the street, approaching at a good clip.
“This is our last chance, though,” Will argued. “If we leave someone behind…”
Adam’s face was pinched in inevitable agreement. “They would never survive. But, Halstead, the risk…”
“Is ours to bear,” Will said. “I know the risk, but I can’t live with the idea that I could have done more. I started this. I have to finish it.”
Adam nodded, finding solidarity now. “There are no other options. Our imperative as doctors is clear.” He turned somberly to Ahmed. “I understand the risk I am asking you to endure.”
Ahmed sighed tiredly. “And my imperative is to protect yours,” he said. “I leave when you leave. Just, for all of our sakes, hurry.”
-o-
Ahmed had a point, but Will didn’t need it made. He could almost hear Jay’s disapproval, and he reminded himself that if he came home in a box, his brother would be the last Halstead standing. Will was obligated to save lives, and that included Jay’s. By extension, that included his own.
And when you got right down to it, Will didn’t have a death wish. Jay was the one who put his life on the line. With a gun in his face, Will had nearly fallen apart. Given all that was going on, Will was surprised he was still functional at all.
Of course, what option did he have? Inaction was death now. He was too far in. He’d closed off his exits, limited his possibilities. This was it. He would finish it. Or it would finish him.
To get the sweep done, he and Adam split the hospital by floor. They agreed to check each ward and run through all the rooms, stopping even to open closets, exam rooms, operating theaters, and all the rest. They would each clear a stairwell, and Adam would take the roof while Will handled the basement.
Moving quickly, they could each make good time. Plus, this hospital was nowhere near the scale of Med.
That being said, Will couldn’t afford to be naive. This was going to take some time.
Time he didn’t have.
But he did it.
He cleared each room, each closet, each ward, each hall. He scoured the basement, and took the stairwell twice just to be sure.
Back in the ED, he found Ahmed with his lone guard, looking increasingly stressed at the front. Adam had just gotten back, also empty handed.
“Looks like your evacuation was successful,” Adam said.
Will stepped to the door and looked out. The men had converged closer; there were more of them than ever. “Just four people left,” he said. He glanced to the small group. “Are we ready?”
Ahmed was sweating, and his guard gave a nervous little shrug. Adam, though, smiled.
“I don’t believe that we are ever ready,” Adam said. “I believe that sometimes we just have to accept that which we cannot change and make the best choices we can. We have done that, my friends. I believe we have done that.”
Accepting what you cannot change.
Making the best choices that you can.
Will had come so far, and just for this.
For this.
He nodded. “I’ll go first? This was my plan.”
Adam braced him by the arm. “We go together.”
-o-
They had been in and out multiple times over the last hour or so, but this time, it felt different. The gangsters had converged, and Will saw a line patrolling ever closer to the hospital. He and Adam exited in tandem, hands up.
Behind them, Ahmed and his fellow guard made a display of putting their guns down, also exiting with their hands up as they crept carefully and slowly across the threshold.
Their point man approached. “And where are you going now?”
“Last group,” Will told him. “We’re going to leave, all of us, and whatever you do next, there are no questions asked on our part.”
Adam and Will held steady in their negotiations, allowing Ahmed and the other guard to move past them to Adam’s SUV, still at the front of the lot.
The man looked twitchy, and he looked at Ahmed and glanced to his cohorts grouped together not far away. “We had a deal,” he said.
“And we’re going to honor it, I promise,” Will said. “There’s no one left inside. In five minutes, we’ll be gone, out of your hair. We’re almost clear.”
It was a promise, all part of the bargain.
The terms, however, were apparently negotiable. The man sneered at Will. “Almost -- is not what we agreed to,” he said. “Look at the time.”
He held up his watch and flashed it in Will’s face, as if that meant something.
“I told you, it’s the last load,” Will said. “I just need five more minutes--”
The plea had seemed innocent enough in Will’s ears.
The man did not take to it kindly, though.
Will always wanted a little more, a little more, a little more.
It just figured that the time he ran up against a brick wall, it was a guy with a gun.
“We have given you plenty,” he said. “I am starting to think that this deal you have made is not enough. I am starting to think the terms are not fair.”
Will saw the last of the staff being loaded up, and he just needed another minute. A minute he wasn’t sure he had. He just had to keep the guy talking, keep the guy focused on him.
He kept himself steady, holding up his hands once more. “Just let the truck pull away,” he said. “Then, the playing field is yours.”
Across the ambulance bay, Adam gave him a wary look. He was standing by the open door, half beckoning Will to join him.
As if Will could.
The man wasn’t pointing the gun at Will.
But he had the gun and he stepped closer to Will still.
It was the same foreboding feeling he’d had when Ms. Goodwin had fired him. All his excuses, all his pleading -- it wasn’t going to be enough. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t say anything.
But this time, breath catching uncertainly in his chest, he had to try. “See?” Will asked. He gestured to Adam. “It’s just the two of us left. We’ll get out of your way--”
The man still hadn’t raised his gun, and there was a familiarity in his expression that Will had come to know and trust over the last few hours. Not that the man was particularly sympathetic to Will -- and not that he wouldn’t kill Will where he stood -- but that he didn’t want to. Whatever his reasons for being here was, killing unarmed medical professionals wasn’t part of his plan.
But plans were always bigger than one person.
One man never determined the course of an operation.
Will often forgot, of course. That was why he thought he could get promoted above Ethan. That was why he thought he could break the rules of the trial not once, but twice. That was why he’d thought Sabeena would still take him back. That was why he’d honestly believed Ms. Goodwin wouldn’t fire him.
Will had an over inflated view of his own worth, his own power, his own ability. Will was like a child who still believed that he was the center of the universe, that the world ebbed and flowed for him. He thought every exception was due to him, and even now, he was dumb enough to believe that his luck wouldn’t run out.
The man showed signs of giving, but another man came up. Will recognized him from earlier, but he had not talked to him. From Will’s limited vantage point of the conflict so far, it was impossible to tell who was in charge -- exactly. The first man had been their contact during negotiations, but he hadn’t made the final call -- at least not on his own. This man had been involved in that decision, and he was bigger, stronger -- and he was strapped with guns and knives in excess.
When he came over, he pursed his lips and looked Wil up and down.
“Your time is up, doctor,” he said, using the title without conferring any actual respect behind it. His accent was thicker, his English more stunted. “You said we could take anything left behind--”
Will knew what was coming. He looked anxiously to Adam, hoping that he understood that now was his last chance to leave -- to take the others and leave Will behind.
Adam shook his head, because he did understand.
He understood and he was holding out for Will anyway.
This new man in front of him understood as well. He stepped in front of Will’s line of vision, looking down at him with near bemusement. “What? The American is here to save the day? Are you the savior, white man? Is that the ploy?”
Will knew better than to resist. The taunts were meant to chafe, and Will couldn’t give them the satisfaction. Worse, he knew there was some validity to it. Doctors and their God complexes; Will couldn’t forget the role he was playing here. Adam could still get out. The others could still be safe. Will wasn’t negotiating for his own life anymore -- but theirs.
“You ignore me?” the man asked. He shoved Will roughly, causing him to stumble. Adam made a sound of protest, but another man jerked a gun in his direction. The first man pushed Will again, this time hard enough to lose his balance. “You too good to talk to me?”
Hitting the ground hard, Will winced but didn’t let himself cry out. He kept his head down, his arms up. “I’m just trying to do the job. Stick to the deal.”
“And I am supposed to trust you?” he asked. He lashed out, kicking Will in the ribs.
The force tossed him on his back, and Will seethed with pain. He could hear Adam shouting as he got back on his knees.
“No, I think you are a better hostage than you let on,” the man said. He drew closer, smirking down at Will. “Maybe the confusion is what we need. Maybe American news coverage is just what will help.”
“The deal--” Will started, but he was cut off. This time, the butt of a gun caught him across the face, and everything went black and his ears rung. When he hit the ground, pain erupted and Will blinked in vain against the darkness encroaching his vision.
“--the deal is not yours any longer,” the man yelled down at him, almost vindictive now. “You have no security force left to mediate. You have no more leverage. I can take you and the hospital--”
To prove his point, the man stomped on Will’s chest. Will heard the cracking of his ribs even as his vision cleared marginally.
“I am his boss -- it is me you should take!” Adam was yelling somewhere. Will wanted to protest, but his voice wasn’t working at the moment. “Halstead!”
Still floundering on the fringes of his unconsciousness, Will realized dimly that he was being held up. Placed on his knees, Will swayed dangerously, but someone cupped his chin. Blearily, he opened his eyes, and the man’s dark eyes stared him down.
“Maybe you are worthless,” he muttered, sounding disgusted. “Not worth my time and energy.”
The declaration was a grace.
The declaration was a condemnation.
There had been a time when Will’s pride had objected. But Will’s pride was back in Chicago, having been unceremoniously fired. It hadn’t made the trip with him.
“I’ll leave, let you do what you need--”
Moving slowly with his equilibrium still off kilter, Will started to get to his feet. The man stepped forward, punching in the gut, holding onto his shoulder to keep him upright while he wheezed.
“I will take what I need,” the man agreed. “And what I want as well.”
Will’s vision was hazy and doubled; he didn’t see the next flurry of blows as they took him to the ground. He lost track of things after that, not quite unconscious but not in control of himself any longer. He was aware vaguely of the beating -- cracking ribs, a broken nose, a missing tooth -- and then something hit his head and everything went suddenly and totally black.
And somewhere, in Chicago, the morning shift was on duty. Ethan was back to work, and Ms. Goodwin was having coffee. Dr. Charles was consulting on a patient in the ED, and Maggie was on the phone with Ben talking about what to make for dinner that night.
Natalie was getting Owen ready for daycare. Carol was taking her medications.
Jay was at work, trying to focus on his case, but the news alerts kept pinging on his phone.
Again and again and--
Will woke up, vision badly blurred. Badly disoriented, Will tried and failed to get his bearings. His stomach churned, and the pain in his head ratcheted up. He tried to take a deep breath and failed miserably. It was all he could do to stay conscious, but he wasn’t sure why it mattered. He wasn’t sure--
“I assure you, he is more trouble than he is worth as a hostage,” someone was saying. Will could make out a blurred figure above him. “He is an American. You do not want him.”
“That’s instant media coverage -- credibility--”
The figure cleared just enough, and Will remembered who he was: Adam. That was Adam.
“No, it is an invitation for disaster,” Adam said. “Do you want the American army in here? NATO? They will wipe you out.”
Will lost track of the voices again, and the strings of words were no longer things he could decipher. Then, he was dragged up. The change in position made his head spin. He may have passed out -- honestly, he wasn’t sure -- but he was kept upright by a hand fisted in his hair.
“Then, take him,” someone growled, and Will was forcibly thrown forward, where he collapsed back on the ground. “You have ten minutes to get out of this neighborhood or I promise, I will kill you all with my bare hands and leave your bodies for the news vultures to find.”
He was picked up again, still too dazed to do anything, but this time, when he found his feet, a securing arm braced him.
“Come, Halstead,” Adam’s voice was hot and loud in his ear. “You must help me now, more than ever.”
Will wasn’t sure what that meant, but then they were moving forward. His feet fumbled, and he felt himself going down. Adam grunted, hoisting him upright again, and Will did his best to help. One foot, two feet, forward, forward. The pace picked up, and Will felt his consciousness dim once more even as he doggedly kept his focus on the movement of his feet.
When they stopped, Will barely noticed, and he was dragged onto a carpet, long limbs splayed out around him. There was yelling, and then, Adam’s voice was distinct. “Go! We must go!”
Everything lurched forward, and Will couldn’t hold on any longer. He heard the sound of skidding tires before the pain enveloped him and he passed out.