JANET

Summer had never been in so much pain before. The longer she lay there, the more her muscles stiffened, and bones ached. The nurses in the clinic gave her pills, but they didn’t help. However, even with all the stress, regret, and frustration fueling her mind, Summer felt herself shutting down. She was dimly aware of people moving around her, but she started to dream.

But she awoke with a sudden jolt in her heart and yelled in alarm. Someone was shaking her by the shoulders. “Jesus, what?” she yelled. All the aches and pains flooded back to her. On top of that, when she moved around experimentally, she discovered one wrist was cuffed to the side of her bed.

Groaning, she used her free hand to rub her eyes as they adjusted. Blinking, she saw a woman with red hair standing over her. “You need to stay awake. Fall asleep now, and you might not wake up. You sustained some head trauma after that crash, we’re just not sure how bad yet.”

Summer adjusted her position on the bed in a vain attempt to get comfortable, then said, “What’s going to happen to me?”

Dr. Heart, who was now checking a chart at the end of her bed, didn't look at her, but her voice was kind. “I don’t know.”

“I really messed up,” said Summer. “I was just trying to help.”

Dr. Heart came back around and sat beside her. She took Summer’s hand and said, “Everything will be okay.”

“Sure it will,” said Summer, hating that she felt a lump in her throat. She coughed and blinked furiously, trying to stay focused. “What about the kid? Will he be okay?”

Dr. Heart squeezed her hand and let go. “I don’t know,” she said. “I think it’s best we don’t talk about it either.”

The PC Donald had forced to cut his own wrist was approaching now. After being patched up, he’d taken a post by the infirmary’s entrance to block anyone new from entering. Dr. Heart stood to greet him, saying, “Hi there, handsome boy.”

The PC grinned as she approached him and gave him a hug. She looked down at the red patch on his chest and said, “PCP 03 T. I remember you. Do you have a name?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “They call me Charlie.”

“What happened to your wrist?” she said, taking his bandaged arm in both her hands. Summer watched the whole interaction feeling completely bemused.

“Captain Tully told me to cut my wrist. So, I did,” said the PC.

“The captain told you to do that?” she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

Dr. Heart was silent. Her back was turned to Summer, but she could tell Dr. Heart was furious. “Don’t ever let him make you do that again, you understand me?”

“I have to listen to the captain, ma’am,” said the PC.

“No, you listen to me! Don’t let him do that to you, Charlie. Never again!”

The back door to the infirmary opened behind them, and Summer turned to see Captain Tully approaching them. Dr. Heart rounded on him and yelled, “How dare you do that to him, Donald!”

Donald pointed to himself in mock disbelief. “Me? I didn’t touch a hair on that boy's head, did I PC?”

“No, sir,” said the PC.

“You see?” said Donald shrugging.

Dr. Heart still had Summer’s chart in her hands, but she threw it to the ground and said, “Damnit, Donald! They’re not your personal guinea pigs! You hear me? Don’t you dare hurt them!”

“Alright, alright. Don’t get your hair tied in a knot. I was just showing our guest what we’re all about here,” said Donald. He snapped at one of the nurses silently watching from behind a desk, and said, “You. Get Agent Summer unlocked. We’re leaving.”

As the nurse came forward with a key for Summer’s cuffs, Dr. Heart said, “Where are you taking her?”

“We are taking her to the Gala,” said Donald. Then, to PC he said, “You can get out of here. Go on, now. Say goodbye to your mother.”

Summer sat up slowly, rubbing her sore wrists after being uncuffed. Dr. Heart seemed on the verge of tears or on the verge of throwing more things. But she gave a small smile to the PC and patted his arm before he departed. Then she spoke to Donald in a low voice, saying, “I can’t go to that party tonight. I just can’t.”

“Yes, you can. And you will,” said Donald. “We’re not out of the weeds yet, but we’re close.”

“Were’s the kid?” said Dr. Heart.

“No idea. Seems the boy is a little more slippery than we first thought. No one has seen hide nor hair that I can tell. We’ve searched the building twice over by now.”

Dr. Heart groaned and said something Summer couldn’t hear. Donald said, “Go. Get yourself all dolled up. Agent Summer and I will meet you there.”

“What’s she got to do with this?” said Dr. Heart.

Donald looked down at Summer and said, “Oh, she’s just the thing we need. Ain't that right, Agent Summer?”

“What do you want?” said Summer.

“Nothing major,” he said. “All I need from you is your eyes and ears.” Glancing at Dr. Heart again, Donald said, “The boy says that this CIA agent - Joanna Jones - might have stolen something from us. Something we need. The only problem is, I don’t know what she looks like.”

Dr. Heart said, “You can’t be serious.”

Rounding on her, Donald said, “She has the sphere! It has to be her. We know it was taken. The kid might have helped, but she’s the one.”

“If she has the sphere, then why is she here?” said Dr. Heart.

“If Agent Summer is telling the truth, she’s after something else entirely. Something she hopes to steal during the Colonel’s party tonight. She hasn’t returned the sphere to the Colonel, or else we’d all be dead already. She knows where it is though. I’m sure of it!” Summer gulped as Donald rounded on her again, towering over her hospital bed. “You, Special Agent Summer, are going to point her out to me. Help me find this woman, and I’ll set you free. You’ll be back home by tomorrow night. How does that sound?”

Summer stood up shakily, and said, “You just want me to point her out to you? That’s it?”

“That’s it,” said Donald.

“And if I refuse,” she said.

Donald gave her a cold smile. His eyes narrowed as he said, “I wouldn’t refuse, Special Agent Summer.”