+18 - eps 22-27 - A case takes Russell and Brock to the brink of death. It'll be up to Gillian and the team to rescue them before they're killed by a white supremacist militia. And in the aftermath of the Paris attacks, the threat of a bio attack fo...
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Cooper lay on her side, face to the window. Her eyes fluttered open and moved slowly around, taking in the place. Gillian wore a tight smile, expecting the scowl when Cooper found her by the hospital bed.
"Hey there, ma'am. Need to call the nurse?"
Cooper moved her head only enough for Gillian to get her negative. She closed her eyes as she swallowed, still testing her body response, and refrained the impulse to roll over to lie on her back. Gillian grabbed a glass of water from the nightstand and took the straw to Cooper's mouth. She drank a few sips and rested her head back on the pillows.
Gillian's voice was light, conversational. "It's two p.m. now. You've been three hours in the OR, and the doctors say your kidneys are now as clean and good as new." Gillian kept her smile at Cooper's deepening scowl. "Yes, I know about it, ma'am. Blame it on my peeping habits. How're you holding up?"
Cooper's voice was hoarse, dull. "Fine."
Of course, thought Gillian. She's bound to be in the I'm-fine club, with the stupid bitter man and me.
"Office...?" muttered Cooper.
Gillian's smile turned ironic. "Never better. But I'm afraid I've just ruined your nickname, and from now on people will call you the Silk Lady." She smiled wider at Cooper's questioning frown. "A bunch of agents came whining like babies about their cases. Bet you never heard any of it, 'cause they wouldn't dare to come to you with their stupid complaints."
"What...?"
"What did I do? Told them to get to work or submit their resignation. Hopefully, you'll have plenty of reports to read on Monday."
Cooper pursed her face and dragged a hand to her side, as to press an aching spot. And Gillian swallowed her surprise when she heard the attempt of a scoff escaping Cooper's lips. She'd expected Cooper would get mad at her just for being there. Maybe that was the morphine talking?
"You'll read them," Cooper muttered.
"With all due respect, ma'am: not a chance." Gillian replied. Anyway, she knew what the other woman would like to ask. "No news from Maine so far. Janowsky sent eight agents to join Brockner and Coleman last night at Fish River Lake, in the Northern Woods. This morning they split in pairs to cover more ground. Still no signs of the subjects, no new attacks, and the few neighbors they've interviewed don't seem to know the one who died yesterday."
"Where...?"
"Agent Lawrence gave them the coordinates of any building showing up on satellite. Half of them are checking those houses and sawmills, the other half spread around to see if they find more locations the satellite didn't show, like cabins in the woods, things like that. Nobody claimed the body at Ashland hospital either. Coleman says they plan to cover all the east side of the lake today, so they're calling in the Tac teams from Portland to help them canvass the area starting tomorrow, when they're moving west into a much larger unmarked land."
Cooper nodded, and Gillian noticed her answers helped the woman to relax. She had to hide a different kind of smile now. Yeah, you don't need to worry, boss. You ain't getting no pity, no weird tenderness from me. She wouldn't insult Cooper with any of it, because she knew how it felt like, being all alone and too proud to ask for help.
Her voice brought a nurse around, so Gillian stepped back from the bed.
"I'll be back later, ma'am. Please, have them call me if you need anything."
Cooper's lids came down and up again at her words. Gillian nodded back with one last smile and left.
* * *
The first light snowflakes floating down at sunset didn't change the agents' mind: as soon as they could get a hot shower to kick the cold out of their bones, they would go to Portage Lake for a trash-food dinner and some healthy communication with the outside word. After the whole day out in the woods, talking to hostile locals only to get negative answers, Brock wasn't exactly dying for a one-hour drive down muddy roads in the snowfall, to a long table of young agents chattering non-stop. But he wanted to check in with Cassidy and see if Tanya had anything new for them. So he got in the SUV with Russell without a word.
The agents' chattering would always be better than his mind's ramblings, and he'd have to deal with those in a while anyway, when they came back to the cabins. So it wasn't such a bad idea, stretching the time until he was left alone to deal with himself, and get a little more tired with the hard drive, so sleep would come down on him sooner and harder. However, the night before had been quiet. His mind was focused mostly on the case, and then he'd fallen in a deep, restoring sleep, vacant of nightmares, like he didn't have in months.
Back in Boston, Gillian showed up at the hospital about an hour after the doctor knocked Cooper down for the night. She tiptoed into Cooper's room, brought an armchair closer to the bed, put her readers on and sat there to read. Past midnight, she wrapped herself in her jacket and tried to find a position that would allow her a little rest. At dawn, before Cooper's meds wore off, she gathered her things and tiptoed out of the room. If she was lucky, she might have a full hour in her bed before it was time to go to work.
