Robin Cook - Seizure

Stephanie turned to glance at the toilet. Not only was it completely exposed; it didn’t even have a seat. She looked back at Kurt and glared. “I want to see Dr. Wingate and Dr. Saunders immediately.”

“I’m afraid you are not in any position to give orders,” Kurt said mockingly. He glared at Stephanie before breaking off and disappearing back up the corridor.

Stephanie let out her breath and relaxed a degree with Kurt out of sight. She could only see a short distance up the hallway. Unable to look at her watch, she wondered what time it was. Daniel would have to start wondering where she was and start looking for her. In fact, maybe he was already. But then a new fear entered her mind: What if he was so angry at what she’d done that he didn’t care if she’d been locked up?

Kurt Hermann sat down at his desk and put out his forearms. He was quivering from unconsummated desire. Stephanie D’Agostino had turned him on excruciatingly. Unfortunately, the pleasure of having his hands on her firm yet soft femaleness had been all too fleeting, and he wanted a repeat. She’d acted as if she hadn’t enjoyed it, but he knew differently. Women were like that: one minute being provocative and the next minute pretending they didn’t like the consequences. It was all an act, a put-on, a joke.

For a few minutes, Kurt tried to think of ways to put off calling Saunders. What he would have liked most to do was not to call him at all. Dr. D’Agostino could just disappear. Hell, it was what she deserved. But he knew it wouldn’t work. Saunders would know, because Saunders understood that Kurt was aware of everyone who came in and out of the compound. If the woman doctor disappeared, Saunders would know Kurt was responsible or at least knew what had happened to her.

Calling on the discipline of his martial arts training, Kurt calmed himself. Within minutes, his muscles began to relax and his quivering stopped. Even his heart rate slowed to less than fifty beats per minute. He knew, because he frequently checked it. When he was fully in control, he got up and went into the video room.

The clock on the wall said it was twelve-forty-one. That meant that Spencer Wingate and Paul Saunders would be in the cafeteria. Kurt sat down and looked up at the bank of monitors. His eyes went to number twelve. Using the keyboard in front of him, he connected the joystick to minicam twelve and began to pan the room. Before finding his bosses, he found Daniel Lowell. Kurt zoomed in. The man was reading a scientific journal while feeding his face, completely oblivious to his surroundings. Across from him was Stephanie’s untouched tray. A slight sneer played on Kurt’s face. He had the man’s girlfriend locked up in his private jail cell after feeling her up, and the man had no clue whatsoever. What a pompous jerk!

Kurt zoomed back out and continued looking for Spencer and Paul. He found them at their usual table and with the usual bevy of female employees. They were jerks as well, since Kurt knew for the most part whom they were screwing, although more for Paul than Spencer, since Paul lived in the compound. To Kurt, most of the men of the world were jerks, including most of his commanding officers when he’d been in the service. It was a burden he had to bear.

Kurt reached for the phone and put in a call to the cafeteria supervisor. When he got her on the phone, he told her to tell Spencer and Paul there was a security emergency that necessitated their immediate presence in his office. He told her to say specifically, “It’s a major problem.” Within seconds of his replacing the receiver, Kurt saw the woman appear on the monitor. She was frantic. She tapped Spencer and Paul on the shoulder in turn and whispered in their respective ears. Both leaped up and, with worried expressions, made a beeline for the exit. Spencer was slightly in the lead, since he was the first one the cafeteria supervisor had approached.

With a few clicks on the keyboard, Kurt brought up the image of the jail cell on the monitor directly in his line of sight and switched his attention to it. Stephanie was pacing back and forth like a caged cat. It was as if she were purposefully taunting him with her body.

Unable to watch another second, Kurt abruptly stood up. He retreated to his desk to rely again on his training to calm himself. By the time Spencer Wingate and Paul Saunders breathlessly arrived, Kurt was back to his stoic self. All he moved was his eyes, as the two fertility doctors rushed up to his desk.

“What’s the major problem?” Spencer demanded. As the titular head of the clinic, Paul yielded to him. Spencer’s complexion was slightly flushed, as was Paul’s. The two men had run all the way from building three, which was more exercise than they were accustomed to. Both were panicked, because Kurt’s message had been the same one he’d communicated back when Federal marshals had besieged the Wingate Clinic in its Massachusetts incarnation.

Kurt enjoyed their anxiety as payback for the scant recognition they gave him for all his efforts with getting the new clinic’s security in line. He gestured for his bosses to be silent, then motioned for them to follow him as he led the way down to the video room. Once they were inside, he shut the door. He gestured for them to sit down in the two chairs present while he remained standing. He eyed them while basking in their anxious, undivided attention.

“What the hell is the emergency?” Spencer demanded, losing patience. “Out with it!”

“We had a break-in involving the egg room,” Kurt said. “An obvious espionage situation that has compromised the egg-procurement program.”

“No!” Paul exclaimed. He sat forward in his seat. The egg program was pivotal in his plans for the future of the clinic and his reputation.

Kurt nodded, enjoying drawing out the moment.

“Who?” Paul demanded. “Was it an inside job?”

“Yes and no,” Kurt responded ambiguously without elaborating.

“Come on!” Spencer complained. “This isn’t a goddamn guessing game.”

“The perpetrator was caught perusing the Oocyte Register and apprehended.”

“Good God!” Paul blurted. “This person was actually looking at the Register?”

Kurt pointed to the central monitor just above the counter. Stephanie had retreated back to sit on the iron cot. Unknowingly, she was looking almost directly into the minicam. It was clear she was distraught.

For a few minutes, silence reigned in the video room. All eyes stared at Stephanie.

“How come she’s not moving?” Spencer asked. “She’s all right, isn’t she?”

“She’s fine,” Kurt assured him.

“Why is her cheek bleeding?”

“She fell en route to the cell.”

“What did you do to her?” Spencer demanded.

“She wasn’t being cooperative. She needed a bit of encouragement.”

“Good Lord!” Spencer exclaimed. All in all, this was less of an emergency than he had feared, but it was still bad enough. “How come her arms are behind her back?” Spencer asked.

“She’s handcuffed,” Kurt said.

“Handcuffed?” Spencer questioned. “Isn’t that a bit heavy-handed? Although, with your history, we should be thankful you didn’t shoot her on the spot.”

“Spencer,” Paul said. “We should be thankful for Kurt’s vigilance, not critical.”

“It is standard operating procedure to cuff an individual when they are apprehended,” Kurt snapped.

“Yeah, but she’s in a jail cell, for Christ’s sake,” Spencer said. “You could have taken the handcuffs off.”

“Forget the handcuffs for the moment,” Paul suggested. “Let’s worry about the implications of her behavior. I don’t like the fact that she was in the egg room, much less having her looking at the register. She’s been less than complimentary about our operation, particularly in regard to our stem-cell therapy.”