Warrior Reborn (2 page)

Briet finished her quick assessment and turned her attention back to Dr. Sanyu’s screen presentation of the timeline for the trial. She couldn’t shake the impression that Welson had chosen well for their representative, a quiet manipulator to influence a positive result for their latest drug. For the children’s sakes, she hoped the drug produced all the results Welson touted.

“The patients have undergone the first phase of testing and review. The ones divided into the current protocol groups have completed screening. The high-level data will only reflect the time elapsed since the disease’s inception and assign a rating based on the aggressiveness of its progress. Doctors have briefed all the parents. The necessary consent and waiver forms fulfill our initial legal disclosure requirements. Our goal is to assimilate results for the next three months, compile the data simultaneously with the treatment, and make a final determination of which groups will progress to the final phase by week eight.”

Briet narrowed her eyes at Dr. Sanyu’s delivery and then focused on her hands folded in her lap. His comments were no surprise. It was still an unwelcome thought that her patients might not progress to final treatment for eradication of their cancers based on lack of clinically documented response in the short term.

To some degree, it was always a luck-of-the-draw in these trials. That was why she was there, to even the odds. She glanced up to find the Welson representative’s gaze back on her. He held eye contact for several long seconds, as if trying to bore into her brain. Almost locked in place, she felt a reticence to break the connection. Then he averted his gaze to Dr. Sanyu.

She tried to shrug off the residual sensations from his look, but the man’s attention hadn’t been casual and lingered with her.

Sanyu finished his presentation and turned to the man in the suit. “From Welson Labs, we have Mr. Jason Ballard. He will interact with the teams to facilitate any administrative, financial or public relations issues. He will interface with the department heads relating to these areas as well. All results and personal extrapolations of data for Welson should be funneled through your team leads or myself.”

Orders all wrapped up with a glossy bow, the assembled group rose to leave. Briet let out a breath of relief as a hand touched her arm. “Are you heading over to the hospital?”

She glanced over her shoulder and smiled with a nod. Her associate, Dr. Sheri Arnault, was a pediatric oncologist with staff privileges at several of the hospitals in the area. Briet had become acquainted with the woman at a conference sponsored by Welson Labs last year. Given she spent most of her time covering her tracks and eluding the limelight, it was amazing she’d struck up a friendship with anyone. However, Sheri had been persistent in her pursuit of their camaraderie. She’d shared her experiences and knowledge in a manner both open and forthright. It was a professional relationship Briet found easy to embrace.

“I have two groups of parents coming in for a final overview.”

Sheri pursed her lips and gave a slow nod. “A difficult step for them, forgoing conventional methods for, perhaps, gambler’s odds.”

Briet suppressed a smile at her friend’s undisguised French accent and no-nonsense expression. “Have you had an opportunity to review the drug in the lab?”

Sheri glanced toward Dr. Sanyu standing with Jason Ballard and shook her head. “I’ve only read the preliminary detail.” She shrugged. “What strikes me as odd is the small size of the test groups vs. the disproportionate influx of capital and attention for this drug. It makes me wonder.”

The two women moved out of the amphitheater and along the glass enclosed bridge that spanned between the university halls and the teaching hospital. Cabs, buses and traffic passed beneath, the noise muted by the structural girth and design.

“However, our patients have every opportunity for success,” Sheri added, almost as if it were an afterthought.

“I’m counting on it.”

“No doubt. For someone who doesn’t sustain an ongoing practice you have quite the track record for success, my friend.”

Briet glanced out the glass at the overcast skies to avoid Sheri’s underlying question. “I just pick the optimum candidates and the ideal situation.”

“Let’s hope all these participants encounter your good luck, but one of us is invariably the control group.”

Yes, thought Briet, there was that. One unlucky set would only receive the placebo after waiving the option for traditional treatment. “Tell me again why Welson discounted using the data from previous tests as a control basis instead of using this option of a control group with no treatment?”

Dr. Arnault shrugged. Her face held the same measure of discomfort Briet was feeling. “They are reluctant to waste time with assessment of the statistics. It lends an uncomfortable feeling to this first phase, yes? Last I heard, there was still some debate over who makes the ultimate decision for the final groups.”

“Let’s hope we have some ability to influence the outcome.” They were on the same page here. “This is too heavy a burden for these families to take on without hope.”

They arrived at the bank of elevators. Two headed down to the patient levels of the working hospital, one headed up to the administration offices.

“I am glad we will be together on this protocol.” Sheri looked around to ensure no one was within range of their conversation. “I look forward to the opportunity to exchange insights with you, or perhaps just lunch?”

Briet gave a smile and bit the inside of her cheek. Physician exchanges of their results during the treatments were discouraged. She and Sheri knew each other well enough to follow their best instincts, even if it didn’t correlate with Welson Labs’ preferred rules of engagement. She stepped into the open elevator and turned back. “I am always up to breaking bread with you. Call me.”

***

Jason watched from the back of the elevator as the number illuminated for each floor. When the doors slid open for the oncology ward, the pixie-sized blonde doctor moved onto the floor with brisk determination. He pushed to stay next to her and matched her stride as she moved through the crowded hall. “Dr. Hyden.”

She flashed a look his way, but didn’t bother maintaining contact or slowing down. “Mr. Ballard.”

“I wonder if I could speak with you.”

She stopped short. He had to pivot not to lose her in the traffic of visitors, nurses, and support staff. “What would we have to discuss, Mr. Ballard?”

Feisty. The trials hadn’t started yet and Dr. Briet Hyden had assigned him the role of villain. “Please, call me Jason since we’re going to be working together over the next few months.”

She raised an eyebrow. “
Jason
. I don’t really see you and I having much contact based on Dr. Sanyu’s outline. Unless you plan to take blood, administer the protocol, or perhaps deal with parents regarding symptoms and reactions? Of course, we may see each other more if the protocol does not produce results.”

He did smile then. This woman barely reached his shoulder and she was ready to take on the whole establishment for her patients—including him. He didn’t want her for an enemy. “Dr. Hyden, it’s my job to ensure the protocol is the most successful it can be. I’d rather have an open avenue of communication than battle lines.”

She crossed her arms, gave him a full minute of scrutiny, then finally let out a breath. “What can I do for you, Mr. Ballard?”

“I was hoping I could…” He lifted a hand. “Perhaps buy you a cup of coffee and share some of your expectations for the trials. Establish a rapport.”

There went her eyebrow again. What had he done to set her off now? “I don’t drink coffee and I’m going to be very busy.”

“Tea then? Or spring water. I’m not asking for a lifetime, just a moment here or there in your day over the next several months.” He held open his hands. “You never know. I might actually be able to help with something you need at some point. I’m only asking for a fair chance.”

She looked dubious. He’d purposefully appealed to her instincts for honesty and fairness. Those instincts radiated from her like sweetness and sunshine from the top of her blond, spiked hair to the smallest shit kicker boots he’d ever seen. Then she gave him a hint of a smile that almost bowled him over.

“I can be fair. A tea now and then could hardly take much time.” She fixed big brown eyes on his face and raised her finger in warning. “But I don’t want Welson people following me around all day.”

He waved a hand aside to dispel her concern. “You got it. Just me, just tea. I won’t eat up your day or step on your toes. I promise.”

She nodded and looked pointedly over his shoulder toward her original direction. He stepped back and waved her through with a smile. Her response was a wary look, followed by a hint of humor, and a nod of thanks.

He watched her until she turned from sight at the end of the hallway. That little spitfire was either going to make or break the test trials. He’d seen it in the determination on her face during the meeting. She wasn’t pleased with the decision to sacrifice a group for the purity of the results. Frankly, he wasn’t either, and while he hadn’t given up on producing another option, he was here to do a job. He was going to keep a close eye on her. A woman determined to keep her kids alive would be on top of every nuance in the testing.

She would be the ticket to the project’s success.

Whether she intended it or not.

CHAPTER 3

Briet watched Sheri slide into her seat at the table. With a loud exhale, her friend swiped a few stray blonde hairs behind her ear.

“Tough day?”

Sheri waved away the question with her hand. “Sorry to be late. It took me forever to get a cab. Then the traffic…”

“Thought you had an expensive little hybrid, with the wonderful gas mileage and—”

“Don’t start. That beautiful little monster is in bits and pieces at the shop. It’ll be weeks before I sit on the cushy leather seat and chat with my computer on my way to work.”

Briet pressed her lips together and held back a smile as Sheri shook her head again.

“Let’s talk about the project because I’ve got to get back for a one-fifteen meeting.”

Briet looked at her watch, twelve-thirty. She raised two fingers to the waiter as he started to head over, alerting him to double her order. He nodded, pivoted, and ducked back through the swinging kitchen doors.

“You get what I’m having.”

Sheri gave a quick shrug. “Spill what you’ve learned. Because I know you have something.”

Briet had only opened her mouth to speak, but Sheri cut her off with a tap of her nail on the table.

“If it were anyone else I’d be skeptical. I mean it’s been only ten days—but you, you have this incredible track record with your patients.”

Briet nodded slowly. Yes, a track record. Six clinical trials and all of her patients had survived, regardless of whether they received the tested drugs or not. If there were more of her to go around, she’d like to think there would be fewer children suffering through these trials. However, her personal attention wasn’t a cure.

“I’m glad they at least reconsidered having one control group and interspersed one patient to receive a placebo per team.”

Sheri nodded. “It’s only fair we each deal with the same risk instead of one team having the entire burden.”

Perhaps, but Briet would have been happier with a standard protocol instead of a placebo. “Given at least one of my patients would receive the placebo, I’d expect to see one with a normal progression of the cancer. Even an increase or decrease in resistance of the immune system, and a number of standard secondary effects. I’ve seen nothing like that.”

“
Nothing
shouldn’t be alarming.” Sheri leaned back and waited until the waiter placed spinach salads before each of them and left.

“Granted, but I also expected a boost for the immune system results in the others. It’s not what my tests results show.”

The fork stopped half way to Sheri’s mouth. She leaned closer as her gaze darted around the half-empty restaurant. “You’ve taken your own samples.”

A statement, not a question. Sheri knew exactly what she’d done. Briet took a breath and nodded.

Sheri hesitated and looked away as if assessing her answer, and then turned back with a shrug. “The results in the lab are accessible to all of us. Why not use those instead of duplicating effort?”

“My results are coming out a little differently than what’s on file.”

The fork clinked to the plate. Sheri folded her hands with her elbows braced on the table, chin propped on her knuckles, and narrowed her eyes. Briet felt like a canary.

“How different?”

“The drug is supposed to bolster the immune system, introduce an agent to bond with the blood cells so the cancer will ingest it, and then the result eradicates the diseased cells.”

Sheri leaned closer. “I’m aware of the protocol’s process. Just move to your point.” Her frown knit her brows tighter.

Briet knew her friend well enough to detect impatience, not annoyance. “The drug
appear
s to reduce the cancer cells, the immune system boost is nonexistent…and I’m seeing minor deterioration in the thyroid and spleen.”

“Why do you say appears? Wouldn’t the deterioration be showing up in the results from other patients? We would have had an immediate briefing.”

“The samples being collected don’t include thyroid and spleen. They only reflect the designated blood work for the protocol.” Briet bit the inside of her cheek.

“But you’ve taken more samples. Like what specifically?”

She left out a quick breath. “Muscle tissue, urine tests for specific kidney function.”

“The parents approved you doing more tests?” Sheri’s voice remained low but terse. “If Welson finds out you’re doing your own tests you could jeopardize your patients’ viability for the study.”

“I have the parents' authorization. The testing I’ve been doing isn’t invasive and it doesn’t affect the protocol. I have the right to address my patients’ needs beyond the scope of the designated procedures. Right now, the study’s not providing enough visibility to detect other problems.”