Authors: Nathan Roden
That’s probably the reason she wears it short
.
He walked to MG’s side and risked electrocution to put his arm around her shoulder. MG patted his hand.
Rebecca arrived twenty minutes later. Her running shoes were covered in dried spackling compound. Her hair was in a ponytail and she wore a painter’s cap that bore drips and splatters from a dozen different colors of paint. She was her mother’s child.
Jordan and Samantha rushed into the room. It looked like they had run all the way from the helipad. Under different circumstances, their destroyed hairdos might have been a source of jokes. MG hugged them both. After each hug she ran her hands through their hair to smooth it down.
“What do we know?” Jordan asked, looking quickly back and forth at Babe and MG while backing him and Samantha toward chairs.
“He’s still in surgery,” MG said, “We only know of one hit, lower left shoulder.”
“Any others?” Jordan asked.
“Two other agents. I believe he said…what did he say, Babe?” MG said.
“It sounded like one was bad; two in the chest. The other one I’m pretty sure they said was just a flesh wound. In the arm, I think.”
Jordan continued breathing heavily. His right hand crossed his lap and held tight to Samantha’s hand. Jordan rocked and stared at the floor.
“This isn’t the way we go out, Jack. We have rocking chairs on the porch with fifty thousand miles left on them,” Jordan said to the floor.
After forty-five minutes Jordan and Samantha went in search of their luggage. They had a nearby hotel reservation but Jordan said that he wasn’t leaving until there was some good news.
“MG, Marshall Gates is on duty tonight. He comes on at ten,” Babe said.
“Good! That’s good, Babe,” MG said, and then wrinkled her nose. “Ew. We, uh…”
Babe smiled. “I know. Let’s just keep our wits about us,” then he continued, in an exaggerated, kindergarten teacher type voice, “Remember, I know Marshall from school and I introduced the two of you a year ago—”
“Babe,” MG said softly. She took his hand. She leaned in and looked him in the eye. Then she crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him.
“Did you call Millie?” Babe asked.
“No. I… I didn’t think about it. Do you think we should? Jesus, where is my head? Of course we should. I’ve gotten so used to her being…God, some friend I am.” MG said.
“I’ll call her, MG. I need to walk around a little, anyway. You may have to pick her up,” Babe said.
“Do you think she’ll come? Two days ago her eye was still pretty discolored.”
“She’s coming in on Monday, anyway. I don’t know how much difference three days could make. We’re…shit. We’re kind of her
family.”
“
I know,” MG said.
Babe felt a welcome breeze across his face when the second of two automatic doors opened in front of him. He walked toward a lighted courtyard area, where an old fashioned gazebo beckoned the weary to sit peacefully and contemplate. Perfect. But as he approached the gazebo he saw a solitary figure seated there.
Shit. Not so perfect after all. Oh, well.
There were a few wooden benches around the perimeter of the courtyard. The bench opposite him had the amount of ambient light that he was after so he started around the gazebo.
“How is he?”
Babe spun to a halt.
“You scared the bejesus out of me, Gabriel.”
Gabriel stood.
“How is Jack?”
“He’s still in surgery. That’s all we know,” Babe said.
He continued to stare at Gabriel.
“How did you know that he was shot? You left before we found out about it.”
Gabriel sat on the edge of the gazebo’s table and dismissed the question with a wave of his hand.
“He is a very good man, is he not?”
“No. He’s the
best
, is what he is. He’s a wise, old man, and he’s a mischievous kid. He’s Daddy, and he spent the last fifteen years being Mommy, too.” Babe shoved his hands into his pockets, and slid to the corner of a bench.
“And some son-of-a-bitch decided that this world didn’t need Jack to be in it anymore. But I’ll tell you one thing, for damned sure. This world needs Jack Englemann. This world could use ten thousand of him.”
Gabriel slid off of the table and walked to Babe’s side. He put his hand on Babe’s shoulder until he felt Babe tremble. Gabriel put his arm around Babe’s shoulder. Babe blinked hard and tried as hard as he could to concentrate on his professional standing, and the fact that this very strange, perhaps unstable man was still his responsibility—a strange man that he found himself clinging to as his tears sank into the man’s coat.
“Shit, I’m sorry. Jesus, you didn’t sign up for this, did you?” Babe said with a sniffle and a small laugh as he wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands.
“What greater honor is there for a man—than to be someone, for somebody?” Gabriel said, “I have to go now and your friends will be wondering about you. Jack will recover. Miss Vandermeer should be here. Has someone contacted her?”
“That’s why I came out here,” Babe said.
Gabriel nodded.
“Looks like it might rain,” he said as he turned to go.
Babe smiled.
“I think it’ll blow over.”
Gabriel looked over his shoulder,
“Congratulations. You pass.”
Babe took his phone from his pocket and began scrolling toward Millie’s number as he watched Gabriel go. He dropped his hand and yelled after Gabriel,
“What do you mean, Jack will—” Babe stopped himself.
He put his curiosity back to bed, pulled it’s warm, fuzzy blanket up to its chin, and kissed it on its forehead.
Right now, stronger than his desire to grill Gabriel about Jack’s future—
Was his need to believe in him.
Babe called Millie and filled her in. She said she would be out the door in twenty minutes. Babe walked quickly back toward the entrance. He passed by two large trucks backed up to a dock on the side of the building; rental service trucks. There were also two food service vans alongside the dock.
Odd time of night for deliveries
, Babe thought.
Big screen televisions? And furniture?
Babe walked toward a circle of standing people in the ER waiting room, his heart in his throat. Two doctors held court in the center.
“No organ or major blood vessel damage,” one of the doctors said.
“There was some touchy bone fragmentation and some tendon and ligament damage to deal with. But we’re going to call this one a success because it was close to being— something else. Mr. Englemann will be monitored in ICU for a few days. This is Carl Anderson, the hospital’s administrator. I believe he has some rather unusual arrangements to tell you about.”
The doctors were given the rock star treatment and they were probably going to be sore from all of the back slapping. Carl Anderson introduced himself and his personal secretary.
“Ladies and gentlemen, congratulations on the news concerning Agent Englemann. I would like to pass along some information regarding the move to the fourth floor, where the ICU is located. First of all, please observe the activity outside those windows,” Carl Anderson pointed toward the service hall connecting the dock area with the service elevators.
“We are converting a conference room on the fourth floor into a temporary additional waiting room. I regret to inform you, that an Agent Petrelli received two gunshots which have proven to be inoperable. Agent Petrelli has been in an ICU room since shortly after his arrival. The Petrelli family is…very large. I would say that there may be—” Anderson turned to his secretary.
“How many would you say, Bonnie; twenty-eight? Thirty..?”
“There must be forty of them!” Bonnie said.
“It’s hard to say,” Anderson continued. “They come, and they go. And there are a number of children—women carrying children, women passing babies around, women taking crying children outside—
“Folks, it’s not that we haven’t seen it all, because we probably have. But this situation has become quite the handful. There are family members voicing the desire to take Mr. Petrelli off of life support, and there are those who will not hear of it. It is often a very
heated
discussion, and there are so
many
of them. Under the circumstances, with FBI agents being involved, we want to stay out of the way as much as we can, but we do have other patients and families to consider. We have a large number of law enforcement personnel here, and we understand that this will continue. If anyone can help us with this family it will be very much appreciated.
“On a lighter note, the FBI field office in New York has dispatched the furniture that you see being off-loaded for the extra accommodations. I’ve seen chairs, recliners, and at least a couple of sofa sleepers—a few large televisions and a full size fridge. Caterers are setting up tables…
AND, may
I have the list, Bonnie? Thanks. I have contact names and numbers from field offices in Albany, Buffalo, and Philadelphia, saying, and I quote, ‘To the families of our fallen, anything that we can do to help, and we mean anything, you call us, we love you guys’.”
Babe saw Millie come in. He was expecting to see her arrive in the cap and sunglass disguise.
Right. Indoors, at night. That wouldn’t raise any eyebrows.
What he saw made him look twice. Or three times. He was used to seeing Millie in minimal makeup and she usually looked like a very pretty girl next-door. Tonight, perhaps because of the remaining discoloration around her eye, she was made up to the nines.
“Wow, Millie. You look great,” Babe tilted his head a little, trying to determine how much bruising was being disguised.
He stopped himself when he realized that he must look like a guy inspecting the bondo job on his Camaro.
“No, I don’t,” Millie said, “I look like a
whore
. Jesus, I haven’t worn this much cake and paint since Miss ‘Bama—and to a freaking
hospital
. I heard that Mr. Englemann is out of surgery. How is he?”
“The doctors were very positive. It sounds like he was really lucky. He should be out of ICU in a couple of days,” Babe said.
“I went to the main waiting room but I didn’t know anyone there. There are some very upset people in there. Especially the older ones,” Millie said.
“That‘s the Petrelli family. Dom Petrelli is another agent who was shot. It doesn’t sound like he’s going to make it,” Babe said. “His grandparents are first generation immigrants. Their family has been Catholic since before Jesus was born.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Millie said.
“Anyway, Dom’s grandmother won’t even
listen
to a discussion about taking him off of life support until she speaks with the
Pope.
And she’s serious,” Babe said.
Millie exhaled.
“And I guess the rest of the family is just as stubborn.”
“Yeah, and there are a bunch of them here. The Administrator doesn’t know what to do. It sucks, but he might have to kick them all out of here. They’ve taken over the place.”
“So, do they know who did it? Have they caught anybody?” Millie asked as she kicked off her shoes and drew her legs underneath her in a large overstuffed chair.
“I…don’t know,” Babe said. “We’ve been so worried about Jack that I hadn’t even thought about it.”
“ Well, I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough. I heard Jordan say that the Director and Deputy Director will be here in the morning. If they haven’t caught them yet, they won’t be able to hide for long,” Millie said.
A hush flowed over the room in a wave as Russell and Belinda Eckhart entered the room. Babe noticed that both of the Eckhart’s eyes were very red. Belinda’s, it was quite obvious, were the product of an alcohol stupor. It actually appeared as if Russell had been crying. He seemed to be fighting back more tears as he spoke with members of the Bureau.
Well, what do you think about that?
Babe thought.
And in Bean Town they say, that the ASAC’s small heart grew three sizes, that day.
When the Eckharts got closer to Babe, he saw Russell struggle to contain his emotions. By the time he extended his hand to Babe he had regained his normal smug composure.
“I’m sorry, Babelton” was all he had to say, and then he was gone. Eckhart announced to the room that because he was temporarily in charge he had to get back to the office.
Babe leaned in to whisper to Millie, Tom, and Christie.
“I bet Belinda goes along to measure the windows in Jack’s office, just in case.”
Christie changed into a pair of pink, footed pajamas, and handed another set to Millie. When Millie returned from changing, Christie was seated at the end of a sofa underneath a blanket with her legs drawn up. Millie shoved Tom out of her way and took his place underneath the blanket next to Christie.