The Serpent's Kiss

100

Jill sat with Michael in the emergency room at Beaumont Hospital in Royal Oak. It was the only Level I Trauma Center in Oakland County. There had been some discussion on where to take Michael and Derek, but the FBI agent who ran the HMRU, Zoelig, had loaded them into the Huey and raced off toward Royal Oak.

As she climbed into the helicopter with her son she saw Matt Gray turning to the media available and taking credit for the successful operation. It figured, she thought. Gray was like a cat. He always landed on his feet. She had watched the paramedics and the HMRU doctors working on Derek and her son, noticing the taut, worried expressions on their faces as they took Derek’s vital signs and injected him with drugs. It had been a horrible, sinking feeling for her. Only a partial success. And now Derek … she didn’t want to think about it. He had meant … something to her. She didn’t know what, exactly. Some personal frisson, a little bit of attraction, or potential for something more. Maybe it was just the stress of the crisis, strangers drawn together. She hoped — prayed — Derek would make it.

Now, in the hospital, she turned her attention back to her son. Michael lay on an examining table, an I.V. in his arm, an oxygen mask over his face. He looked up at her. He said, “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head and stroked his hair. She leaned close to him. “I can’t tell you how proud I am of you right now, Michael. Do you realize you saved thousands of lives? You’re a hero. You were so brave…” Her voice broke and she wiped at her eye. “Michael, your father would be so proud of you. You’re an awful lot like him.”

Michael smiled and closed his eyes.

Someone at the door cleared his throat. Jill turned to see a tall, broad-shouldered man in a dark suit standing in the doorway. It took a moment to recognize him.

“General—”

General James Johnston, Secretary of the Department of Homeland Security, raised his hand and said, “May I come in?”

“Of course.”

Johnston was a grizzled man in his early sixties with a military bearing. It was there in the straightness of his spine and the set of his square jaw. It was there in the clear arrow-like way his gaze looked at people. He held out his hand and introduced himself.

“I understand you were instrumental in preventing this final attack. Thank you very much. Good work.”

“Thank you, sir.” She shook his hand. “I was… it was really Derek who did it, sir.”

Johnston shook his head. “He couldn’t have done it without you. I understand you have some problems facing you with Agent Gray. I’ll help you with that as much as I can. And if you tire of the Bureau, I promise you there will be a future with us at DHS.”

“Thank you, sir. Thank you very much.”

Johnston turned to Michael. “And this is the young man who took on The Serpent single-handedly. I’m very impressed, young man. Very impressed. We’re all thankful. Good work, son.”

Michael shook his hand. He moved the oxygen mask aside and said, “Sir. Is Doctor Stillwater all right?”

Johnston looked him directly in the eye. “I’m sorry, son. Doctor Stillwater didn’t make it. We weren’t able to get him treated quickly enough.”

Michael blinked. “I—”

Johnston patted his shoulder. “He was a good man. And a good friend. I’m very sorry.”

He stepped back, nodded, and said, “If you need anything, Agent Church, just let me know. I’ll have my staff contact you shortly.” He looked at her closely. “And don’t feel guilty about the choice you made. It wasn’t really a choice, after all, was it?”

She shook her head, words catching in her throat.

“All right, then. Good work to both of you.”

Johnston turned on his heel and walked out of the examining room, closing the door behind him.

Jill sat back down and looked at Michael. Michael took a deep breath of oxygen, then pushed the mask aside. His eyes were filled with tears, but he blinked them back. “I wanted to talk to him about…”

She took Michael’s hand. “I’ll tell you about your father. It’s about time I did. Anything you want to know.”