Michael Palmer - Extreme Measures

"Caduceus is not a club, Dr. Najariap-. It is a group of dedicated people on the verge of the most important breakthrough in medicine in modern times.

This breakthrough will save millions of lives. We need you."

"I Eric felt his resolve beginning to falter.

Once again he heard Laura's voice. He thought about his decisions at the bedside of Thomas- Jordan.

Whether he had made the right choices that day or not, his ambition had influenced his thinking. Thanks to Laura, at least now he could admit that much to himself.

"Well, Doctor," the eerie voice urged, "what is it going to be?"

"I… I can't help you," Eric said.

"You don't understand."

"I know I don't, dammit. You won't tell me enough to understand."

Eric sensed growing strength in his voice. "Well, now I don't want to understand. Putting your pin on was a mistake. You have my apology for doing it. But I've taken it off. Just before you called I threw it away. You'll have to find someone else to help do whatever it is you want."

The dispassionate voice grew more menacing.

"Refuse to help us now, and we guarantee that you will be off the staff of White Memorial before the month is out."

"If you have to do that to me, that's your problem," Eric heard himself say. "I'll get by."

"You are making a grave mistake," the voice said.

"Well, I'm sure it won't be my last."

Eric's hand was shaking mercilessly as he set the receiver down in its cradle.

Seated on a doorstep across the street from the Hotel Carlisle, Larry Dexstall angrily stubbed out his cigarette and stared up at the darkened hotel windows. It had been a long day, long week-and he was desperately in need of a few hours of sleep.

Laura Enders's light had gone on and off several times, suggesting she was having trouble drifting off.

Once he had seen her at the window, and twice he had seen the flickering light of her TV. Now it was nearly 2:00 A.m. At 4:00, if the light stayed off, he would go upstairs to the room he had rented and take his chances for an hour or two. It would be a disaster to lose her at this point, but thanks to Neil Harten, starting at sunup he would have to be especially sharp.

From the moment Laura Enders left Co'mmunigistics, Dexstall had been following her. He had watched her save an old lady from a mugging. He had followed as she went from store to store, hotel to hospital, refusing to sit down or even slow down for hours at a time.

He had watched her interact with people, and had learned her habits and her ways.

Tonight, he had seen her meet a man.

Over the week, he had developed a lot of respect for the woman-not a surprising reaction, given that for nearly seven years he had been as close to Scott Enders as anyone in Plan B. H[e was certain Neil Harten had chosen to use him because of that closeness and his determination to learn what had happened to Scott.

From the beginning Dexstall had been against holding back what little information they had from the woman. But Harten had insisted, maintaining that the less she knew, the more vigorously she would approach her search, and the more likely she would be to stir something up.

Now, suddenly impatient, Harten had decided to up the ante.

Instead of being the guide, Laura Enders was to become the bait. It stank, and Dexstall had just hung up from telling as much to the man.

But Neil Harten had carte blanche to do whatever the hell he wanted. And over the day just past, he had taken the information his contacts had turned up, and had started sending out the he that Laura knew where her brother had hiaden a certain tape.

He had also ordered Larry Dexstall to be damn sure he was right there when someone responded.

Dexstall waited a few minutes longer, then trudged to an all-night coffee shop to write the note that was part of Harten's new ploy. If only Scott had stuck to the goddam weapons assignment. But Dexstall knew that taking chances and thinking for himself were what made the man so good at what he did.

Dexstall smoothed a piece of paper out on the table and began to write the words Neil Harten had given him. for days he had done a decent job of keeping track of Laura Enders, losing her,just once.

Beginning at sun-up, he would be on her like glue.

Although Eric was sure that, like most people, he dreamed almost every night, it was rare for him to wake up with any notion of what the dream had been about. This morning, though, the images were vivid and terrifying. He was in the emergency room, directing a resuscitation, issuing orders to an army of residents and nurses. Then, suddenly, he was dressed in a tattered overcoat, wandering across the Common, a bottle of cheap wine protruding from his pocket. Children passed by, pointing and laughing. A band of teenagers knocked him down and began kicking him. Shielding his face with his arms, he rolled away, trying to escape their blows. all at once he toppled over the edge of a precipice and was plummeting through a heavy blackness, screaming as he fell.

He twisted and turned, hurtling through the void.

Then suddenly he became aware of the hideous electronic voice, droning over and over again: "… Refuse to help us now, and we guarantee that you will be off the staff of White Memorial before the month is out. -.."

His alarm clock brought the dream to an abrupt end. Eric lay naked on his bed, drenched in perspiration, his covers and pillow on the floor beside him.

Several minutes passed before he was able to sort the nightmare from the actual events of the night just passed. One moment, it seemed, everything.was in order in his life. He was counting down the days until his promotion. Then, just a beat later, everything had changed.

It was as if a spell had been cast over him.

There was still time, he thought. Time to get to the hospital.

Time, somehow, to let Caduceus know that he wanted in, that he was willing to do whatever they asked. He leaped out of bed, toweled off, and was frantically dressing when the phone began ringing.

Thank you, he thought. Whoever you are, thank you for calling back, for giving me a second chance.

He snatched up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Good morning," Laura said. "I hope I didn't wake you." Eric felt instantly deflated.

"No, no," he said, "I've been up for a while."

He sank to the edge of his bed and rubbed at what remained of the sleep in his eyes. He felt dizzy, disoriented.

"I'm sorry I ran away last night," she said. "I really didn't want to leave you, but I was getting so upset thinking about Scott, and I was caught completely off guard by what happened between us."

"I understand."

"But in spite of everything, I did have a wonderful night.

"Me too."

"You sound a little distracted. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Eric said, sensing the ungodly tension in his body beginning to lessen. "There's been a lot going on in my life, that's all. I'll explain when I see you.

"Then we're still on for breakfast?"

Eric glanced over at his clinic coat, hanging on his bedroom door.

The pin was gone, and so, in all likelihood, was the future he had so carefully laid out for himself. But in that moment he sensed relief sweep over him. He had done what he had done, and now, as advertised, his life was already moving on a new, irrevocable path.

"We're still on," he said with sudden enthusiasm.

"Terrific," she said. "They don't have room service in this place, but if you want to come over, I'll pick up some coffee and croissants or something."

"I'll be there," Eric said. "You can count on it."

Najarian not working today. He has revoked his commitment to us, and will be dealt with.

Until a suitable- replacement can be found, you must handle things just as you did with numbers 105, 106, and 107. The enclosed is our way of thanking you for your continued efforts.