Authors: Regina Morris
Back in the maternity wing, Dixon bumped into Sterling, who was wearing a hospital smock and talking with the new parents. Dixon handed the file on Townsend Briggs over to Sterling for him to give to his father.
“Dr. Briggs,” Dixon said, pointing to the file now in Sterling’s hands. “He’s been collecting the cord blood here at the hospital and he’s probably one of the men from the garage who nabbed your aunt. He’s a vampire.”
Sterling opened the folder and gave Dixon a questioning glance.
“I know. There’s no picture,” Dixon confirmed.
“That’s not normal. His official file would have his picture. I’ll ask Alex to check on his credentials, but I’m betting they’re all fake. Something else that is odd,” Sterling said as he closed the folder. “No one around here remembers Sulie. Looks like any memory of her has been erased.”
Dixon glanced around and recognized a few of the nurses, nurses he knew had worked with Sulie in the past. It felt eerie to him. They all had their minds messed with in this cover–up. “That explains why her personnel file is missing upstairs. What about her office?”
“Supply closet.”
Dixon felt the sharp pain of reality setting in. “The kidnappers don’t intend to let her come back.”
“We’ll just have to find her.” Sterling peered around the hallways. “I’m not detecting a purebred or a turned vampire. Unless this guys a half–breed, he’s not around here today, at least not on this floor.”
“The schedule shows him off duty today,” Dixon said as he pointed to the white board near the nurses’ station. “A C–section is scheduled in a little while.”
“Babies are born every day, Dixon. I wouldn’t put too much stock in any schedule. If they want cord blood, they’ll be here every day collecting it.” He nodded his head towards the white board. “I bet Dr. Briggs will come in today to collect that blood.”
“We’ll need to keep an eye open then. Any luck with the patients?” Dixon asked as he nodded towards a patient’s room that had a picture of a stork on the door.
“So far none of these parents are doing the cord blood collection.”
“The cost of private collection carries a hefty price tag,” Dixon said. “I doubt too many families opted for the procedure. Although the blood could have been collected without their consent and the attendants during the delivery had their minds wiped. I’m going to check out the downstairs lab. The blood is probably stored down there until it is picked up. If we’re lucky, the blood will be marked with the cord blood company name on it or maybe with the doctor’s name.”
“If you find anything, put a tracker on the collection vials so we can trace them.” He handed Dixon some small tracking devices but was nearly knocked over by a team of three people in scrubs rushing down the hallway. Dixon recognized one as a doctor Sulie had worked with for years. The man had a fondness for eating candy bars, so a human doctor. The other two, a nurse and a technician, had also been on staff for years.
“Caucasian female. Appears to be of late maternal age; they’re guessing the woman to be in her sixties. Low blood pressure with a fast pulse. Pregnant in her last trimester,” the technician said to a doctor.
“Unstable pelvic fracture with shock and continuing hemorrhage. It’s a high risk pregnancy based on maternal age alone, with a possible premie or miscarriage underway. A lady came in with her claiming that she’s carrying twins,” the nurse chimed in.
The doctor paused in mid–step, causing the group to stop their near jog. “How old?”
“They’re estimating she’s in her sixties, maybe seventies. It’s not a joke,” the technician reassured him.
The doctor appeared skeptical but resumed his pace. “Call for an anesthetist. We may need to force delivery.”
The voices trailed off as the group rushed past them and through a set of double doors, down the corridor leading to the ER.
Sterling’s phone rang. “It’s my Dad. He must be walking into the hospital right about now.” He barely had uttered a word into the phone when his eyes widened and his jaw went slack. His eyes then darted to the closing doors the crew had just run through. Before Dixon could ask, Sterling was already at a full rush down the hallway.
Dixon knew only one thing would panic Sterling this much. The elderly, pregnant woman, the one possibly losing her babies, was Kate, Sterling’s wife.
*******
Dixon rushed down the corridor to the ER, but found no signs of Sterling or Raymond. He did, however, find Jackie, William’s wife. She stood out from the crowd with blood stains on her hunter green dress. She swayed back and forth talking on her phone.
“Baby, I’m all right. There’s no need to rush down here,” Jackie said into the phone.
Dixon assumed she was talking to her husband. When Jackie mentioned her three children weren’t in the car with them when it was hit and that he should stay at his post at the White House, Dixon was sure William was on the other end of the phone.
Jackie looked up and noticed Dixon. “I need to let you go. I want to check on Kate. Dixon’s here with me.” She bit her lip. “I love you too, baby. I’ll see you later.”
Near tears, Jackie hung up and hurried to Dixon. “It’s bad, Dix. From out of nowhere, a car ran into us — on the side where Kate was sitting. She was pinned in the car; her leg cut up real good. Before I knew it, the ambulance was there, cutting her from our overturned car…”
“Overturned car?”
She nodded. “Like I said, it’s bad. The other driver died on impact. I heard something about alcohol being involved.”
Dixon’s eyes traveled across her body, focusing on the blood stains on her outfit. “Were you hurt?”
“No. I’m fine.” Her hands waved past her dirty clothes. “All of this is Kate’s blood. Her leg was torn up with the car metal. I couldn’t get her out of the car… and she’s lost a lot of blood.” She looked up into Dixon’s eyes. “I swear, I tried to get her out.”
“It’s okay,” he reassured her. “Where’d they take her?”
“Alex was already down here when we arrived by ambulance and then Raymond showed up. Sterling arrived after that. They all went through those doors to the operating room.” Jackie pointed to the big doors on the opposite side of the ER. “She’s not even eight months along. She’s going to need blood, or she’ll lose those babies.”
Dixon felt the lump gathering in his throat. “Compel any nurse you see to bring as much blood as they can to the ER.”
As he walked towards the doors, Jackie asked. “What are you going to do?”
He lifted his arm. “I have what Kate needs on tap.”
The doctor and nurses kept busy with the machines hooked up to Kate. They didn’t even notice one of the technicians, with his sleeves rolled up, compelled and feeding Kate from his vein. Dixon wasn’t surprised. A lot of blood would be needed to bring Kate down to her Jahrling year age, but it wouldn’t do to have the doctor or nurses woozy from blood loss during a critical time.
Dixon pushed his way to the head of the operating table, side–stepping the trauma surgeon and the anesthesia cart. Kate lay on the table, the bright surgical lights illuminating her body from head to toe.
Tapping the technician on the shoulder and rolling up his sleeve, Dixon announced, “I’m next.” Taking a seat, he looked over to the rack next to the bed. Alex began hooking up a bag of blood just as Kate sunk her fangs into his arm. Kate appeared so old to Dixon. Her dark brunette hair had whitened, her skin was marred by wrinkles, and she had a saddened look about her. But it was the fear in her now blackened eyes that scared him the most. Kate had recently come into their lives and was a breath of fresh air — especially for her husband Sterling. Kate brought him inner peace, the likes of which Sterling had never experienced before. She was funny, caring, and a member of Dixon’s extended family. No way was he going to allow them to lose her.
“You and the babies are going to be fine,” he smiled at Kate, trying to reassure her. He realized Ben stood in the corner, his eyes focused on Kate. He altered her mood and kept her from panicking with his special ability. Dixon knew Kate would physically recover with the bagged blood. The babies on the other hand — that became the real issue.
Hopefully, Ben wouldn’t be needed to soothe her over the loss of her babies. His special ability to control auras and moods only worked on humans, pregnant vampires, and young vampires before their Jahrling year. If she lost the babies, he wouldn’t be able to ease her suffering by manipulating her aura. He would only be able to read her pain.
The humans worked their magic and Dixon heard several medical terms tossed out. He wasn’t a medical professional, but he could see the multiple long–bone fractures in her leg and the belly wound from her exposed, round abdomen. He listened to the medical chatter, but it all meshed together in a hazy fog.
“You’ll be fine,” he told Kate once again as he heard Sterling ask about Kate’s spleen. He was relieved when the surgeon said he didn’t believe that organ had been compromised, which was good news. Any blood she drank went into her digestive system and the spleen helped transfer it into her circulatory one. Spleens may be visceral organs for humans and acted merely as a reservoir of blood, but Kate’s system needed it to survive.
Dixon could tell Kate was getting a good feeding. At first her pulls from his vein were weak. Now she tugged with the determination of survival. Mouthfuls of his blood filled her, and he heard her eager swallows as her strength improved.
He slumped in his chair and was surprised to see Jackie standing over him. “The nurse is here with blood bags.” Jackie helped him to free his arm and to step aside. Kate had already regained a good two decades back to her youthful appearance thanks to him and the compelled OR assistant.
He took a few deep breaths and realized how anemic he had become. He had fed the team out in the field several times over the last thirty years. But this — this one feeding nearly took him out. He could feel himself physically, and literally, drained.
Alex continued to compel the medical staff to ignore the work of the vampires in the room while Jackie and a nurse strung up the bagged blood and connected it to an IV, allowing blood to go directly into Kate’s body, bypassing the spleen just in case. Dixon stood up to give everyone room to do what they needed to do. That’s when he heard the obstetrics surgeon, Sulie’s friend for years, announce that the baby was coming. The doctor was quickly corrected by Sterling to expect two babies, not just one. Dixon heard the panic in Sterling’s voice. The man was terrified for his wife and children, and there was nothing Dixon could do to help.
At least, nothing he could do to help Kate in her present situation.
Staggering from the table, Dixon made eye contact with Raymond. “You stay with your family. I’ll keep searching for Sulie.”
Dixon made his way down to the cafeteria and downed orange juice and several cookies. Even with this snack, he needed more energy. That’s when he remembered the Devolixion, which always gave him a good boost of energy. He pulled the medicine from his pocket and noticed the tracking devices Sterling had given him, plus the additional one he already had. He ordered a cup of strong coffee to go and put in two dropper fulls of the medicine before continuing his search for Sulie.
He did a cursory scan around the hospital, but didn’t find Dr. Briggs. He thought with the delivery of twins the doctor may make an appearance. Evidently the good doctor wasn’t monitoring the ER, probably concentrating more on the obstetrics operating room.
Dixon wandered the hallways until he noticed a sign stating the lab was down in the basement. He took the elevator and found the lab. The room was just past the morgue and Dixon ran into several technicians as he walked down the corridor. He must have looked like he belonged in the basement because no one stopped him to ask about his business.
The lab door was locked. He thought about breaking the glass, but he got lucky when someone walked out of the lab and he caught the door before it locked shut. He snuck into the tiny room and was grateful to find the place empty. He glanced at his watch. The time was already past noon. He figured all the technicians were at lunch, which meant he may be able to sneak around for half an hour without detection.
He searched the room looking for the cold storage. He ignored the cultures and lab specimens that were not in the refrigerator or freezer, knowing that blood had to be kept cold. He calculated that any collected cord blood vials would be stored together with the label from the cord blood company attached to them. Having seen William’s report on the proper storage of the cord blood, Dixon felt confident that he knew what to look for.
Several minutes passed as he searched the racks of blood vials.
“God, some of the doctors need to take handwriting classes,”
he thought as he struggled to read the messy handwriting. Sulie was the only doctor he knew who had beautiful penmanship.
Scanning containers of vials, he searched for the name of the cord blood company. He discovered a collection of vials in the fifth refrigerator compartment he inspected. Reading the labels, he found cord blood for the last five obstetrics patients that were in Dr. Brigg’s care. He texted Ben the results of his findings, focusing mostly on the patients who given birth within the last twenty–four hours. Hopefully, those patients would still be at the hospital so Ben could question them. That is, if Ben was done helping Kate.
He couldn’t think about Kate right now. The only thing he could do to help the team was to focus on Sulie’s disappearance. He could at least bring her home for them.
Dixon placed a small transmitter under the label of each vial of cord blood, leaving only one sitting in his pocket. He then closed the refrigerator cabinet door. He barely had time to hear the door close before a man entered the room.
Dixon nodded a hello to the man and walked over to a batch of non–refrigerated specimens. He busied himself by reading the inventory listing on the door and looking like he was searching for a specific tissue sample.
The man glanced over to Dixon and then did a double take. “You find everything you need?” he asked with a playful grin on his face.
Dixon pulled a random sample from the compartment. He smiled, “Everything’s fine.” He set the vial back in its holder and took a good look at the man. He had dark hair and stood tall enough to be the man from the video. Dixon watched to see which refrigeration unit the man went to.
The mystery man walked with wide strides towards the refrigerator compartments that contained the cord blood. More than just cord blood was stored in the compartment, so Dixon bided his time and continued to feign work at the opposite end of the lab. The man held a container of new vials — possibly containing cord blood. Dixon realized that if it was cord blood, that a new baby must have been born.
He felt certain that if it were blood, that it didn’t belong to Kate and her twins. Even if Kate was done delivering her babies, there probably wasn’t time for him to collect and be down in the lab right now. That’s when Dixon remembered there was a scheduled C–Section being performed. The team was too busy with Kate to monitor that operation.
He watched as the man, who he assumed to be Dr. Briggs, put the new vials in the unit next to the stored ones containing cord blood.
Dixon slyly took out his phone and snapped a picture of the man while he remained busy with the vials. The picture was mostly profile, but easily a good image for facial recognition. Before he could send the picture to Raymond, the man turned around and faced him. Dixon quickly hid the phone back in his pocket.
“I haven’t seen you here before,” the man said. He held his chin high and stood with straight posture — as though he were the grand high poobah of the lab world. He approached Dixon with ease and looked him directly in the eye. “Do you have a badge to enter this lab?” he asked as Dixon closed the compartment door.
Dixon realized he was dressed in jeans and a button down shirt, not a lab coat or anything else to suggest he had any reason to be in the lab. He glanced over at the man and felt an eerie sensation took over. He felt the start of a brain freeze, like eating ice cream too fast. The sensation was a feeling he understood very well. Before him stood a vampire and that vampire was trying to compel him.
Thankfully, the subroutine Raymond had implanted worked well. Dixon looked at the vampire with a blank stare. “Badge missing,” he said, trying his best to act compelled.
The man’s eyes shifted to Dixon’s chest and pants pocket, where an ID card would usually be. “Do you know who I am?” he asked Dixon.
In a flat tone, Dixon replied, “No.”
The man turned to show his name tag from his hospital smock. “I’m the new doctor, Dr. Briggs.” He walked closer to Dixon. “I’ve searched the hospital employment records and I didn’t run across your picture in their database. Who are you?”
Sweat threatened to drip down Dixon’s forehead, and give him away. He had to think quickly. “Private physician assistant.”
“Private?” he asked, his eyebrow rising.
“Not hospital staff. Paid directly by a physician.” The excuse seemed weak, but the first one Dixon could think up to explain why he worked in the hospital but was not on the payroll.
The doctor tilted his head and leaned in for a better look at Dixon. “What’s your name?”
With a straight face, he replied, “Dixon.”
“Dixon?” the vampire repeated. His brow furrowed as though deep in thought; then he took a step back, his eyes widening. “Jonathan Dixon?”
Dixon drove his fingernails into the palms of his hand to keep from reacting. “Yes. Do you know me?” he asked.
The vampire started to laugh. “Several months ago, I saw your name written down somewhere.” An evil smirk crossed his lips, “Sorry, old boy, but I rejected your turning.”
Dixon almost made eye contact, but bit his tongue to keep focused. The Vampire Council had rejected his turning. For a moment, Dixon wondered if the vampire held a seat on the Council, and then he remembered he wasn’t supposed to know about vampires. “Turning?” he asked.
“It doesn’t matter, Johnny. It’s all water under the very mortal bridge — so to speak.” The vampire chucked and then looked at him from head to toe. “To whom do you assist?”
Dixon swallowed the lump in his throat. Perhaps it had been this vampire who had rejected his request to be turned into a vampire, not the Council itself. This vampire had taken away his dream, but who the hell was “Dr. Briggs”?
The vampire snapped his fingers. “Who do you work for?”
Dixon focused. “I assist Dr. Anna Smith,” he said.
The vampire let out a booming laugh as he walked over to a table and set his medical bag down. He next removed a flask from the bag and took a long swallow. Dixon caught a quick glimpse of the design on the flask before the doctor returned it to the bag. “Do you know Dr. Anna Smith well?”
The question was a loaded one. Dixon figured he was fishing to see if Dixon knew of the existence of vampires. It would be the obvious first question. “No. I met her only a few months ago.”
“Really?” Dr. Briggs reached into his pocket and pulled out a shiny trinket that Dixon knew all too well. He opened the locket and glanced at the picture and then back at Dixon. “Is this you?”
Dixon looked at the picture of himself as a young boy. Sulie had been wearing it the last time he saw her. He had placed the locket around her neck himself. He had to second guess what his answer should be. Did he say no and risk the vampire dismissing him? If so, he may lose the vampire’s trail and the only true lead he had to Sulie. If he answered yes, the worst case scenario might be death, but best–case he could take him to Sulie. He barely glanced at the picture. “Yes. That is me.”
Dr. Briggs leaned in and smiled to show his fangs. “Do you know what we are?”
Dixon did his best to pretend to be half paralyzed with fright and frozen statuesque by the compelling. He must have pulled the performance off because Dr. Briggs started to laugh. The doctor pulled out the flask once again and took another long pull of what Dixon knew had to be blood.
“Forget you saw my fangs,” Dr. Briggs said sizing up Dixon. “What are you, a hundred?”
To Dixon, the vampire sounded condescending and belittling. He knew he didn’t look bad for his age. “I am 66 years old,” he said almost robot–like.
A chuckle escaped Dr. Briggs mouth. “Simple minds.” He put the flask away and walked over to Dixon. “What is Anna’s real name?”
Without hesitation, Dixon answered, “Annabel? Annalisa? I don’t know.”
“Uh huh. Well, tell me Johnny. What is your relationship with Dr. Smith?”
There were many choices, but Dixon needed one to explain why he was poking around the hospital. “She is my employer.”
Dr. Briggs dangled the locket in Dixon’s face. “And you give your employer a locket with your picture in it.”
“I wanted her to have the locket,” Dixon blurted out before thinking everything through. He felt on display as the doctor studied him. The man had the locket; he obviously had Sulie. Dixon had to figure out what the man wanted, what Sulie had led him to believe, and what answers would get this vamp to take him to her.
Dr. Briggs grimaced. “You and she are lovers.”
Dixon almost made eye contact once again, but held himself back. Calculating that Dr. Briggs perhaps was looking for leverage against Sulie, he answered. “Yes.”
“What was that answer?” he said, staring into Dixon’s eyes evidently to see if he were compelled.
“We are lovers.” Dixon did his best to keep his heart rate at a steady beat and not get too anxious over the line of questioning.
“And yet you said you don’t know her very well.”
Oops, he had forgotten about that. “She is in love with me. She’s a young kid, and I’m old school. Want to court her more. Need to know her better.”
Dr. Biggs let out a chuckle as he poked Dixon in the chest with his finger. “I can actually respect that. Fake her out with the guise of respecting her and yet still dabbling in the nasty.” He took another good look into Dixon’s eyes. “She has a birthmark on her upper thigh,” he pointed to where the mark was on his own leg. “What shape is it in?”
All the years of playing poker with the team helped Dixon to keep a straight face. Because of some field work he and Sulie had done decades ago, Dixon realized he did know the answer. “Mickey Mouse,” he said. His jaw slightly clenched as he wondered how this vampire knew she even had a birthmark, let alone the shape of it.
Dr. Briggs lips curled into a grotesque smile. “Puts new meaning to the phrase ’find the hidden Mickey’, doesn’t it?” He pointed to a nearby table. “Put your phone down. You’re coming with me.”