Cat Talavera’s fingers shook as she sprinkled water on Falcon’s forehead. Not that I really needed it, Falcon thought. He didn’t have to fake feeling sick. Fear and paranoia had turned his stomach into a tortured knot of writhing snakes.
“Are you all right?” Cat asked gently, and he looked up into her soft brown eyes.
“No,” he said with a faint whisper. “I really don’t feel well.”
“What’s wrong?” She placed her cool fingers on his forehead, as if in search of a fever.
“I think I’m going to throw up. It’s just this nausea . . . and the shakes.”
“Anxiety?”
He swallowed hard, his tongue trying to strangle him as it stuck in the back of his throat. “God, I wish I had a couple diazepam.”
“Do you want me to see if I can—”
“No. No, Cat. I’m . . . I’ll just . . .” He looked down where his hands were trembling in unison. “Why does this happen to me?”
“Anxiety? In a paranoid schizophrenic? One about to attempt escape from a psychiatric facility? Who’d guess?” And her expression fell. “Falcon? I’m scared, too. I just went, but I need to use the bathroom again.”
“I guess neither one of us is particularly brave, huh?”
Two knocks on the door caused his stomach to heave. He choked it down, realized he was sweating for real, and nodded at Cat. “Okay, let’s go.”
“You have to react every time they press your lower belly,” she reminded as they stepped out into the hallway.
Chief Raven gave them a nod, saying, “Edwin’s in. Make it good, guys.”
Falcon slipped his arm around Cat’s neck, halfway sorry that she seemed so taken with Edwin. He’d never really had a girlfriend, never dated. Almost thirty years old and he was still a virgin. How did that happen?
He tried to keep from leaning on her, but she kept pulling him down, almost into a crouch. Being just slightly shorter than he was, she seemed to fit, but the way her body kept bumping his sent shivers of unease through him.
“It’s all right, Falcon,” she kept telling him. “For God’s sake, don’t go catatonic on me.”
The sensation of tears as they blurred his vision surprised him. He felt one break loose as it trickled down his cheek. “I . . . I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can. Come on, it’s just another couple of steps to the infirmary.”
And then he was in, shaking, dry heaves racking his stomach.
“What’s wrong?” Falcon recognized Nurse Seymore’s concerned voice. Heard Cat say, “It’s his stomach. Appendix, I think.”
Falcon felt himself laid onto the bed, heard Nurse Seymore ask, “Falcon? Where does it hurt? Here?”
He cried out and stiffened, not because he remembered to, but Nurse Seymore’s invasive touch sent panic flooding through him.
“Could be,” Seymore said gently.
“I’ve seen this before,” Cat said, as if from a script. “My brother. Just about the same symptoms.”
“No!” Falcon cried, hearing whispers, the disembodied voices chattering in the room.
“Ah, hell! What’s the wimp got himself into this time?”
Falcon blinked his eyes free of tears and turned to see Rudy Noyes where he slouched in the infirmary doorway. Rudy wore his usual brown-leather bomber jacket. His long black hair was slicked back, accenting his hatchet of a face. The old familiar daredevil grin added to the sparkling eyes. “How you been, wimp? What’s your trouble supposed to be this time?”
“Down low,” he told Rudy. “Right side, just up from the hip. Cat says appendix.”
“How long ago did this start?” Nurse Seymore asked, ignoring Rudy as she wrote on a clipboard.
“He said he had a stitch in his side when Major Daniels was talking this morning,” Cat added, casting sidelong glances Falcon’s way.
“Man, have you gotta way with women, or what?” Noyes remarked as Nurse Seymore bent over Falcon with an IR thermometer and clamped an oxygen monitor on his finger. “Better grunt and moan again, asshole.”
Falcon tensed, groaning slightly. “Maybe some aspirin?”
“Not if it’s appendix,” Nurse Seymore told him. “The last thing you need is a blood thinner if there’s even a chance of surgery.”
“Better call an MD,” Cat insisted. “Let security know.”
“Yeah.” Seymore placed her clipboard on the counter and lifted the phone. “I’ve got a potential appendicitis in Ward Six. Is Doc Hadely available?”
A pause. “What do you mean he’s left the building?” She listened. Grunted. “I thought Hatcher was on duty.” Then, “Oh, yeah. New systems.” Another pause. “Yeah, he’s going to be an asshole.”
From his place in the doorway, Rudy flipped Falcon the bird. “You’re not convincing, asshole. Look like you’re dying, huh?”
Falcon gave a gasp, but his anxiety turned it into a dry heave. Nurse Seymore turned, worry in her eyes. “Yes, that’s the patient you heard.” She nodded as she listened. “A medevac? I don’t know. What if it’s not . . . ? Okay, okay. But you damn well be sure it’s cleared with Major Daniels. He’s the one gonna have to do the paperwork.”
She put the phone down, frowning. “Wow. Major Daniels sure put the fear of God into security. ‘No more fuck ups’ is now the official word, huh?” She stepped over, placing a calming hand on Falcon’s. “Looks like you might get a helicopter ride.”
“Thank God,” Cat said in a breathy voice. “I watched my brother almost die.” Then she stepped up beside Nurse Seymore. “We’d better have a ziplock with a supply of his meds. They’re going to need to know everything he’s taking.”
Seymore glanced suspiciously at Cat. “How do you know so much about it?”
“Two doctorates . . . biochem and genetics. I minored in premed at Stanford.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot.” The phone rang. Seymore picked it up, saying, “Infirmary.” “Uh-huh.” She listened. “Yes, I’m sure General Grazier depends on Falcon.” “But, that’s . . .” “Okay, I’ll get him ready. Central courtyard helipad. Twenty minutes.”
Seymore set the phone down and looked slightly stunned. “Security says that Daniels is adamant, Falcon. You’re too much of a security asset to take chances with. Mercy General has dispatched a flight-for-life helicopter. You’re going to the hospital, Captain.”
In the doorway, Rudy Noyes stuck his tongue out before saying, “So long, fuck head. Hope they really do cut you open. You’re too much of a wimp to live.” He glanced sidelong at Cat Talavera, adding, “But pussy like that? She can climb into my bed anytime.”
“Rudy!” Falcon cried, “She wouldn’t so much as touch you with a disdainful glance.”
“What was that?” Seymore asked.
“Just Falcon and his fascinating friends,” Cat answered.