In the Blink of an Eye

Chapter Six: I Get Knocked Down

"We have a shot detective, clear the way!" scream the EMT's as I rush after them into the hospital, St. Vincent's, in the heart of Manhattan.

I rush after them, not even bothering to see if I'm allowed in the particular area; I haven't slept in over twelve hours due to me patrolling the area with Cagney, as Captain Jennings is out of town and Hunter had to take over the unit temporarily. I felt very drained, knowing that this shootout was on me. I was finally cut-off from my run towards the stretcher by a nurse.

"Honey, you can't go back there..."

"Detective Cagney is my partner, ma'am..."

"Miss—"

"It's Sergeant Maggie Holbrook," I say, waving my superiority in her face, wholly impatient with her impeding my work. "Now, I have to check out my partner to make sure he's okay."

"Well, Sergeant, that's not your call. You can go and see him when they say you can go and see him."

I glare at her. "Fine," I say, moving to go to the waiting room.

"Whoa, honey," the nurse says, grabbing me and leading me down another hallway, "I can't let you go in there either."

"Excuse me?!" I demand. "Get your hands off me! I am a law enforcement officer, and I command you to let me go!"

The nurse jerks me along behind her. "And I'm Cleopatra," she says, clearly as frustrated with me as I am with her. "Move it." We get to an exam room and she all but throws me onto the bed, looking me over.

"What the hell are you doing?!" I demand.

"Honey, look at yourself!"

Lowering my eyes, I can see that I'm covered from head to toe in Cagney's blood, and it makes my stomach turn. I rush over to the sink and lean over the deep, silver basin, tossing my cookies completely before grabbing a paper towel and drying my mouth, wishing for some water. "Damn rival gangs," I mutter, shaking my head and leaning up against the counter for support.

Normally, I would have partnered with one of the new recruits, Partridge or Barnes, but as the Sergeant of the Manhattan Homicide Unit, I know that as the second in command—temporarily, due to Jennings's vacation—I have to step up, big time. As a result, Barnes and Partridge were on desk duty in the squad room, with Hunter taking calls in the office and looking after them. Why the hell didn't I request for a backup detective?!

"Honey, you okay?" the nurse asks me.

I shake my head.

"Want something to eat?" she asks kindly. "I could get the kitchen to make you some pot roast or something..."

Immediately, I turn around and am sick again. I'd been out of undercover for seven months, and this was how it was. Certain foods set me off; due to being in the operation, I'd had to allow Edward, or whatever his name was, to force feed me. I remembered every Sunday, clear as day, it would be a gristly pot roast, cut into barely bite-sized pieces, shoved down my throat. Knees weak, I was barely holding myself up as the nurse looked me over.

"I'm going to order a shower for you," she says, shaking her head. "And then we're going to do a thorough exam..."

"Do whatever you want," I say, shaking my head. "Just please let me have a glass of water..."

. . .

33 HOURS AGO

"Holbrook, I need you to do surveillance on a Sunday school," Hunter says, all-business, putting the paperwork down on my desk.