Operation Subdue

by R. J. Castille

  -10-

  Elaine

  I spent several weeks looking over my shoulder, quite literally. The information that Mr. Simpson had entrusted to me beyond reasonable. It was the stuff movies were made out of: the government themselves playing a role in the aloof medical care that countless souls received, leaving them waning and helpless.

  My girlfriend was quite concerned with the entire situation. She did her best to convince me to quit, to leave Kellogg Premier far behind, but I became worried. They had already pulled me aside and warned against any further digging into the patient who started it all, Ragan Jensen, but this had catapulted me into a dark world that I had no idea how to handle.

  At first, every person who glanced at me sideways was suspect. I tried my best not to appear as freaked out as I was, concerned the entire time that I wore my apprehension on my face as plain as day. Fortunately, I didn’t do much socializing at work, mostly I was all business. It occurred to me that was to my benefit, that way those around me had not had the opportunity to get to know me enough to realize how transparent I really am.

  By the end of the month, I thought I was in the clear. No sign of any mysterious invites that showed up out of the blue at my computer station and no strange individuals lurking around the next corner

  waiting to catch me slipping. I almost breathed a heavy sigh of relief until I came back from my lunch break and there was another small envelope stuck under my keyboard. If it had been a snake, it would have bit me as I didn’t see it right away. It wasn’t until I sat down and got back to work dressing the charts for the next day’s appointments when I noticed the corner sticking out from underneath.

  Glancing around quickly, I saw that no other living soul was in the near vicinity, just as before. I pulled the envelope free and saw the same, neat handwriting across the front. My first name and nothing more was printed in all caps. I felt my pulse quicken and my blood pressure spike immediately as I flipped it over and breached the seal.

  Just as before, it was an invite to meet with Mr. Simpson at a local bistro. Instead of being a few blocks away, I realized by looking at the name of the place, that I would have to drive to the location. He wanted me to meet him the next day during my lunch and was cautioned seriously to make sure I was not followed and that I came alone. The whole cloak and dagger routine was getting old fast, but if I wanted to see where the trail of breadcrumbs led, I would be forced to play his game.

  The anticipation was killing me. It would be an entire day before I would have the chance to meet with the mystery man who shined the light on something so dark, it was beyond the capacity of my own overactive imagination. I had a million unanswered questions, the first of which being, why me? Another, of course, was how did Mr. Simpson

  even know what I had been doing? It took a verified user identification name and password to get into the system. Only authorized personnel could access the medical records, so it was a mystery to me how he would even know about my covert activities enough to pull me in on the matter.

  Another sleepless night and I was sitting nervously at my station, fidgeting with the cords on my keyboard and reorganizing what was on top of the desk at least a dozen times. Stealing glances at the time periodically was not helping the matter at all. Time seemed to drag on, the seconds ticking by at a snail’s pace as I waited on pins and needles for my lunch hour to come around.

  My time was nearing, only twenty minutes remained until I could clock out and hit the road. I was busying myself with scanning in documents into the patients’ records who had come in that day when Brenda Saxon appeared at my side. She stared down at me, a stern look fixed on her face, her toe tapping the ground lightly as she waited to be acknowledged.

  “Hello, Brenda,” my tone spoke volumes, low and inquisitive, my mind searching for anything I could have done to invoke the presence of the lead nurse. “I was just getting ready to go to lunch after I finish scanning these documents. What can I do for you?” I was trying to sound calm, but my wavering voice gave me away quickly.

  “Ms. Cooper,” she took a deep breath and regarded me seriously, “I am transferring you to the emergency department effective today. After your

  lunch, report back to me directly and I will get you situated.” There was no arguing with her, I could tell by the look on her face. I would be forced to comply with her directive, and I knew better than to say anything in return.

  “Ok…but, Ms. Saxon,” her expression changed as soon as I opened my mouth to protest, making it quite clear it was an effort in futility to do so. Instead, I caught myself and stopped speaking, simply nodded and went back to the task at hand. I knew that was where she spent most of her time, perhaps it was her intention to keep a closer eye on me.

  I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Off the clock and moving fast, I wove my way through rows of empty cars. When I reached my vehicle, I released the lock, pulled the handle and slid inside, glancing over my shoulder as I went. Once inside, I looked around again, searching for any sign of someone on my tail. Seeing no one, I keyed the ignition and pulled carefully out of the parking space before pointing the car in the direction of the main road.

  The bistro was closer than I originally thought. It was a short drive to my destination, my mind spinning helplessly out of control as I neared the small building. Painted bright white with cobalt blue trim, you couldn’t miss the establishment even if you wanted to. It stood out amongst the surrounding structures all grey tones and glass. I supposed that it was like hiding in plain sight that way. No one would ever suspect that someone would carry out a secret meeting in such an eye-popping façade.

  There was only one other patron inside, sitting slumped over the counter stirring a steaming cup of coffee slowly with a spoon. It was strangely quiet. No ambient noises of dishes being washed or food sizzling on the grill, nothing but dead air as I walked in and the door closed loudly behind me. The sound caught the attention of the woman at the counter, who scowled at me from across the room. I diverted my gaze quickly and found my way to a table on the opposite side of the bistro.

  Tucked into a corner, I sat with my back to the wall, the entry in plain sight waiting. When he came through the door, my heart skipped several beats. As he approached, I shifted anxiously in my seat, my mouth completely dry as if someone had shoved a sock down my throat. I stood as he reached my table, extending my hand in greeting. It felt awkward, but I was attempting to thwart my feelings of anxiety and it seemed like the appropriate thing to do.

  “Ms. Cooper,” he obliged me, shook my hand briefly before lowering himself into the chair opposite from me. I followed suit, clearing my throat before opening my mouth to greet him in return.

  “Mr. Simpson,” I wanted to shower him with questions right then and there but thought better of it. That kind of behavior may send him running to the hills and I couldn’t have that, at least not until I got to the bottom of things. “I must ask, if everything is so secretive, if what you have told me is true, how is it that you are able to get messages to me? You must

  have someone on the inside, right?” I was taking a stab in the dark but was dying to know all of it and more.

  “I do, in fact,” he smiled, his thin lips pulling back and revealing a row of yellowing teeth. “I have so many loopholes at Kellogg Premier, I left the door wide open for myself on the way out. With the dolts they have working in their IT Department, they will never know that I can and do still have access to all of their systems. Bunch of morons, if you ask me,” he finished with a chuckle, seemingly very pleased with himself.

  “And the document you gave me? Where did it come from? It cannot be real; it has to be a joke. Please, tell me it’s all just a well-fabricated ruse.” I wanted desperately to hear him say that it was a fake, that he made the document up himself. The look on his face, however, told me otherwise. My mouth went completely dry and I felt my blood pressure rising and throbbing in my temples.

  “Ms. Cooper,” his tone deepened, his
brows drew together tightly as he regarded me seriously, “I am afraid it is all very real. It is something that has been going on for quite some time, but they keep it under deep cover. Not very many people come across an opportunity of enlightenment like this, but I chose you because you are right there in the mix and have seen the tip of that iceberg. That patient you are following around inside the system, she is only one of many who suffer at their hands in the name of power and control. If you think about it, it’s quite genius, really. And please, call me Gregory.”

  “Likewise, Gregory,” my mind was still reeling, but what he said made complete sense, “I am Elaine. Ms. Cooper is my mother.” His eyes brightened with my statement. A sense of humor under such disdainful circumstances was definitely a weapon I had at my disposal. It seemed it was the only one.

  “Very well, Elaine,” my name rolled off his tongue as he exaggerated its pronunciation. Gregory seemed very amused with himself. I, on the other hand, was filled with concern for myself and the countless others who were in the path of a scheme that most didn’t even know existed. “I need to ask you, Ms. Elaine, has anyone confronted you yet? Have you had any strange run-ins with the superiors over there at Kellogg Premier?”

  Of course, I had. The more I thought about it, the more images of faces turning my direction as I passed them in the hallways floated through my consciousness. And, there was that meeting with Nurse Saxon and the Medical Director quite some time ago. My blood ran cold, ice trailing through my veins as the realization came over me like a wave.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I have,” I started off slow, filling him in on the details of that first meeting where I was told to leave well enough alone. There were other things, things I had dismissed but was suddenly faced with the ugly truth that it was all part of their operation. “Just before I left to lunch and came here to meet you, Nurse Saxon informed me that I was being transferred to the emergency department.” Gregory looked on, deep in thought.

  “That could be serious,” his voice trailed off slightly at the end, his mind working some serious overtime to process everything I had told him, “if she is moving you to a division that she herself works in, it’s likely to keep a better eye on you. I highly suggest, if you know what’s good for you, that you carry on the rest of today like nothing is amiss. I will figure something out and come up with a plan to excavate you. You do realize that means you will end up like me, right? Hiding away from the world, constantly on the run. Oh yeah, and I do have one more thought. Have you told anyone else about this or shown them the document? If you have, we will need to consider their safety as well.”

  His last words hit me like a ton of bricks. Riley was an innocent bystander, was just my girlfriend who was only looking out for me and I had inadvertently placed her in harm’s way. I could almost have kicked myself for not thinking ahead and not realizing that. I had been caught up in the moment after laying eyes on Gregory’s document and had handed it over to her to read without hesitating. Now that Mr. Simpson had mentioned it, I knew better and had wished I had not let Riley in on it.

  “Riley,” I said, just above a whisper, my hand finding its way to my mouth.

  “Your girlfriend? Let’s just hope she has the wherewithal to keep her mouth shut!” Gregory became quite animated at that point, his face dawning the same sudden panic that I felt low in my gut.

  “I swore her to secrecy, I promise. Riley will

  keep it to herself, I am sure of it,” I could no longer tell if I was trying to convince Mr. Simpson or myself of that. She had promised not to tell anyone, but this story is so unbelievable, she may think nothing of it as she shares the details over lunch at work or in a casual conversation with someone. Any way you slice it, Riley was in imminent danger and I was the cause.

  “Good!” Gregory went on, “let’s just hope she keeps her word. I would hate to run interference with two of you while continuing to maintain my own secret existence. It isn’t an easy life you know, living in the shadows, constantly looking over your shoulder. It is rough, lonely and sometimes downright impossible. I have only made it this long because I am somewhat anti-social to begin with and had no one to share the news with when I discovered it. You, on the other hand, have upped the ante. They are sure to be on your trail by now, but I assure you, there is still time to get you to safety. You just have to play it off for a little longer while I figure out how to sever your ties completely. Do you think you can do that?” Something told me he wasn’t kidding in the slightest. Riley and I were in danger, but if we made any sudden moves to call attention to ourselves, it would likely escalate their plans to move in and we would be lost forever.

  I took my leave from Mr. Simpson, my hour lunch nearly consumed. As I drove back to Kellogg Premier, it occurred to me that I was headed back to the danger that I now knew existed. Things were better when I didn’t know, and I wished at that moment I had never come into contact with Gregory.

  The doors swished open as I neared. Large, block letters to the right declared I was entering the emergency department, where I had recently been reassigned. Nurse Saxon had been quite clear before I left for lunch, I was to report back to her after I returned and not go back to the urgent care, where I had previously been. Things were taking a turn for the worst, I could feel it deep in my bones but at the moment, I was completely powerless to stop it. I would have to wait for Gregory Simpson to conjure up a plan to help me get out, with Riley at my side. Until that time, he had been quite clear: lay low and don’t do anything to draw any more attention to myself.

  -11-

  Ragan

  Things went like they always did for a few weeks. I went on with my daily tasks, trying to ignore the fact that I was still without answers. Occasionally, I would suffer from chest discomfort and I could tell my blood pressure was elevated by the intense headaches. I became dizzy and had to sit still, resting as best I could between tasks before I could function through the swaying of the room. At home, it was no different, I just had more time to recover in between episodes of my heart sounding the alarm.

  The last thing I remember was walking across the living room before things went completely dark. I heard Roger’s voice from far away, calling my name, the sound frantic and desperate. He was joined shortly by a set of voices that did not sound familiar. I heard them talking about me as if I wasn’t even there; their words floating through my mind in waves as they apparently worked me over.

  I felt my body being hoisted upward; the hard surface of the floor replaced by a narrow platform. Soon, I was moved outside, the sun doing its best to pierce through my consciousness. My eyes fluttered open long enough to see the rays of light filtering through the trees above. The next thing I knew, I was pushed into the back of a vehicle, lined on both sides by cabinets. A tall figure moved swiftly to my side; a needle pushed through my skin as we began to move. As we pulled away, my vision faded, and I was

  left in the darkness again.

  When I came to, I was surrounded by soft light and the sound of a constant beeping noise that matched my pulse. I jerked awake. Sitting straight up, I glanced around the room I was in. I found myself in sterile surroundings, a long tube led from my arm up to a bag of IV fluid that hung on a pole above me. The machines that surrounded me displayed numbers, swimming in my vision as I shook my head to clear my mind.

  Roger appeared almost immediately at my side. Sounds of comfort coming from his lips as he reached out to touch me. I recoiled at first, my head not as clear as it should have been, but soon settled as he stroked my hair, pushing a stray lock away from my face and behind my ear. Listening to the sound of his voice set me at ease as I lay back against the head of the bed that had been elevated slightly.

  “It’s ok, Ragan. Keep calm, I’m here,” soothing words reached my ears as I closed out the world again. The weight of his hand on my arm brought me around, my breathing evened out and the confusion I felt initially dissipated as I lay there.

  “What happened, Roger? Th
e last thing I can remember is walking toward our bedroom from the kitchen and now I am here.” My memories of what happened were fragmented, at best. I did my best to recall the events but could only remember bits and pieces. It was frustrating and I was quite alarmed.

  “You passed out, Ragan. Mid-stride, you literally went down face-first onto the floor. They have scanned you, ran several tests and have more to do. So far, they haven’t a clue what exactly went wrong. I did explain what you have been going through and your medical record apparently gave them the insight they needed to carry on. How are you feeling now? You took a nasty fall and have sustained a concussion to go along with whatever is happening.”

  I listened half-heartedly to what Roger was telling me, trying to conjure up images that remained in the shadows no matter how hard I tried. It was like trying to watch a movie, but the screen was out and all you had was the sound and smeared images to figure out what was going on.

  “Where am I?” It sounded like a stupid question once it left my mouth. Of course, I was in a hospital, that much was clear, but which one? “How long have I been out?” I needed information to calm my brain that was currently working overtime trying to recall what I had gone through. It made the pain behind my eyes worse, throbbing in my temple and down the side of my head toward my neck. The swimming sensation returned as I moved my hand over my left eye and toward my temple. When I pressed down a little, a white-hot bolt of pain shot through my head, tearing through me and settling into the back of my head with a steady, dull throb.