False Flag (7 page)

As they approached the entry of the hospital, J.J. was pleased to see that the patients had been moved inside. Sarge had described the scene to him last night when he arrived at 100 Beacon. J.J. was concerned that bacteria in such a non-sterile, open-air environment could cause infection for the burn victims.

Security had been increased as well. When Katie was able to gain access by using her hospital badge, J.J. realized that bringing them along was a good idea. They quickly located Dr. Daugherty, who had only slept a few hours since his arrival on the scene Thursday morning.

“Hi, Katie,” said Dr. Daugherty. He pointed up and down the corridors. “As you can see, we’ve moved everyone inside, but there aren’t enough beds to take care of everyone. More came in throughout the day Friday, and rooms are assigned based upon severity of wounds. Also, the ER has been filling up with gunshot victims.”

“It’s not going to get any easier for you, Doc,” said Steven, extending his hand. “I’m Steven Sargent. This is our friend Dr. J.J. Warren. As I’m sure you know, the Warren family founded Harvard Medical and were field surgeons at the Battle of Bunker Hill. J.J. was an Army battalion surgeon at Joint Base Balad in Iraq.”

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Daugherty,” said J.J. as the two men shook hands. “Most recently, I helped PTSD victims at the VA Jamaica Plain campus.”

“Call me Judd. Without a doubt, we can use a doctor of your capabilities and experience. Our immediate need is to help the burn victims, but I have to say, I’ve never seen this level of despair among the patients or their family members. I don’t know if it rises to the level of post-traumatic stress disorder, but it’s the closest I’ve witnessed.”

“And I’m J.J. In a nutshell, there are five types of PTSD, ranging from a normal stress response to the most severe cases of complex PTSD. The complex cases, which are also called disorder of extreme stress, are usually found among individuals who have been exposed to prolonged traumatic circumstances, such as childhood sexual abuse.” The group moved against a wall as two orderlies pushing a gurney sped past them.

“My guess is that the vast majority of your patients are undergoing a normal stress response to this single event. Their response will be characterized by intense bad memories, emotional numbing, feelings of unreality, or bodily tension and distress. These patients usually achieve complete recovery within a few weeks. I suggest a group debriefing experience for both patients and family members. Debriefings would begin by briefly reliving the event and discussing the survivors’ emotional responses to the event. I would put an emphasis on the survival aspect. Without diminishing their trauma, they need to be reminded that they
survived
.”

“You mentioned other types of PTSD, J.J. What are those?” asked Katie.

“Well, there is acute stress disorder that is characterized by panic attacks, confusion, paranoia, and being unable to perform basic daily functions. The next level is called uncomplicated PTSD, which involves the re-experiencing of the traumatic event. Finally, there is PTSD comorbid with other psychiatric disorders. These patients already have psychiatric issues that are exacerbated by the traumatic event.”

“It will be difficult to diagnose these PTSD levels in this chaotic environment,” interjected Dr. Daugherty.

“That’s true,” said J.J. “You don’t have sufficient personnel, whether trained or otherwise, to conduct a proper evaluation. The best you can do is interview and counsel the obvious cases.”

“Dr. J.J. Warren, welcome to the team,” said Dr. Daugherty. “Are you up for it?”

“I am if you’ll have me,” replied J.J. “I’m glad to be able to help.”

“Judd, may I check on a few of the patients we helped the other day?” asked Katie.

“Sure, Katie. Just go to the nurses’ station, flash your hospital ID badge, and they’ll help you out. I’m gonna show J.J. around.”

J.J. and Dr. Daugherty started down the hall.

“I’ll be honest, you’re the first person I’ve met named Judd,” said J.J. “Your accent is Southern, isn’t it?”

Dr. Daugherty laughed. “Oh yeah. Back home they referred to me
as J-U-Double-D Party Daugherty
. After med school, the party train pulled out of the station. Let’s get you into some scrubs.”

Chapter 11

Saturday, September 10, 2016

8:20 a.m.

Massachusetts General Hospital

Boston, Massachusetts

Katie led him to the nurses’ station, where an older woman was frantically trying to help several family members locate their loved ones. Lack of computer technology and phone communications took her out of her routine. The woman was in a frenzy and accomplishing very little.

“I’m going to try to help her for a moment, and then I want to check on this list of patients Julia wrote out for me,” said Katie as she stood on her toes to give Steven a kiss on the cheek. “Stand over there, stay out of the way, and if you lay eyes on any of these cute nurses, I’ll crush your nuts. Fair enough?”

“Damn! I’ll be a good boy and stay out of trouble.” Steven kissed her back and watched as she returned to the nurses’ station to offer her help. He had never been in love with a woman before. Katie was clearly someone he could spend the rest of his life with, as best they could in this post-collapse world.

A commotion at the stairwell grabbed his attention and he instinctively felt for his weapon. Some uniformed soldiers were making their way up the stairs and pushing civilians out of the way. They approached the nurses’ station.

“Who’s in charge here?” yelled one of the lieutenants at Katie. Steven inched closer to the desk. Clearly, these guys were in a foul mood. Two other men joined his side.

“Stop barking orders,” said Katie, leaning in to see the soldier’s name. “Lieutenant Rose, I’ll try to help you, but you are scaring people who have had a rough couple of days.”

Steven moved to the side to get a better view.
Rose!
You little bitch!

He immediately recognized Second Lieutenant John Rose, who had represented the 1st Brigade Combat Team at the exercise hosted by Camp Edwards last summer. Rose and Steven had battled it out in more ways than one during the training competition, including a simulated knife fight, where Steven made Rose look foolish. Based on attitude, Rose needed a refresher course.

He slammed a photo on the counter and stared Katie down. “We’re looking for this man. Have you seen him?”

Rose was part of the 10
^th
Mountain Division stationed at Fort Drum, New York.
What are they doing in Boston?
Steven moved to intervene. Katie stepped back from the counter with a three-ring binder containing the names of the patients admitted to the hospital.

“What’s his name?” she asked.

“Mike Austin. He’s a fugitive and he’s wanted for questioning.”

Steven walked up to Rose, and the other two soldiers moved toward him.

“Aren’t you boys a little bit out of your jurisdiction?” asked Steven. “In case you haven’t noticed, this is Boston, not New York.”

“What?” screamed Rose, who spun around to face Steven. “Sargent, is that you?”

“Rose, you need to tone it down, pal. Perhaps you left your fuckin’ manners at Fort Drum.”

“Shut up, Sargent, this is military police business,” said Rose, pointing at the Citizen Corps patch sewn on his sleeve. “Stand down while we conduct it. Last time I checked,
you are a civilian
.”

Steven got into Rose’s face. “And you’re still a douche bag. You wanna go for another round outside. I’d enjoy kicking your ass, again, in front of your friends.”

Katie intervened. “Guys! Enough! Lieutenant Rose, there is nobody here by that name. Now please, calm down and leave.”

Rose ignored Katie and stood nose to nose with Steven, who returned the glare. “It’s your lucky day, Sargent,” Rose hissed through his teeth.

“You need to find some mouthwash, asshole.”

“Let’s go, men,” instructed Rose as he pushed his way past Steven. “We’ll see you around, Sargent.”

“You better pack a lunch and bring a few more friends next time, Rosey,” Steven shouted to their backs as they walked toward the stairs. Katie joined his side as the long line of people looking for their loved ones suddenly disappeared.

“What the hell was that?” asked Katie.

“Rose is a fuckin’ douche!”

“Obviously you two have a history, and you can tell me all about it later,” she said. “But you can’t blow up the hospital,
Mr. Badass
.”

Steven caught his breath and he started to calm down. The veins returned to his neck where they belonged. “Fine. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Much better, Steven,” said Katie. “Let me look at this list Julia gave me and see if I can locate any of them. Hold on.” Katie went back to the nurses’ station and began to flip through the list of patients. She suddenly stopped and returned to Steven.

She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the end of the hallway past several wide-eyed patients. Steven seemed to have an effect on the onlookers.

“What’s wrong?” asked Steven.

“You’ll see. Come on!”

They approached a nurse who was standing just inside the patient’s room.

“May I help you?” she asked. Katie showed her the hospital badge as they entered the room.

“Yesterday, I helped Dr. Daugherty attend to this man,” said Katie. “How’s he doing?”

“Somewhat better,” replied the nurse. “His hearing has returned, but his eyesight is limited due to the burns. We’ve kept him under sedation until just a little while ago. He’s able to respond to commands and seems coherent. A few more days, and his sight will gradually return.”

“That’s good news,” said Katie. “May I talk to him?”

“I think so, for just a moment.” The nurse remained in the room.

Steven wandered over to the window and peeked through the blinds. He stared at the collapsed Longfellow Bridge.
Everything is collapsing
.

“Andrew, are you awake?” asked Katie. Steven turned to see the patient lift his hand.

Katie gently grasped it and spoke again. “My friend was helping take care of you yesterday. The nurse says you’re doing better.”

He squeezed her hand once. Steven looked at the nurse, who was smiling. Katie looked nervously at him and then at the nurse.

“Oh, that’s a good idea. You can squeeze my hand once for yes, twice for no.”

He squeezed it again, once.

“Is this your bitcoin on the table?” she asked. No squeeze.
Bitcoin?

“I’ve brought my friend with me today. Would you like to meet him?” One squeeze. Katie hastily motioned for Steven to come over to the side of the bed.

“I want you to meet Professor Andrew Lau from MIT.”

Steven froze.
Are you fuckin’ kidding me?

Chapter 12

Saturday, September 10, 2016

6:45 p.m.

100 Beacon

Boston, Massachusetts

Brad gave Gunny Falcone and CWO Shore some final instructions and sent them back to Prescott Peninsula. He needed time away from the activity of 1PP to talk strategy with Steven and Sarge. A lot had happened in the week since the cyber attack. Brad needed to have a few drinks, decompress, and come up with a plan to deal with Governor O’Brien and Pearson.

As he entered 100 Beacon, the first thing he noticed was a lack of security. He climbed the stairwell and carefully opened each door—looking for signs of life. The building appeared to be abandoned. Did everybody leave? Were they dead? At what point would he and his men be ordered to conduct door-to-door searches in a city with nearly a million people?

He activated the biometric keypad and made his way to the top floor. Julia greeted him as he entered the Great Hall.

“Brad, I’m so glad you’re here.” She gave him a much-needed hug and led him toward the kitchen island, where a makeshift bar had been set up.

“What’s your pleasure, sailor?” Katie asked with a laugh.

“Whisky, dirty glass,” replied Brad. Steven and Sarge joined the group and shared some backslaps with Brad. It had not been that long since they were all together, but under the circumstances, it seemed like an eternity. Brad downed his first glass. “Hit me again, bar wench!”

“Hey, soldier, you better be careful.” Steven chuckled. “She may just knock your ass out!”

Katie filled his glass and the group made their way to the couches. Brad looked around for J.J.

“Where’s our Armageddon doctor?” he asked.

“He’s gonna work at Mass General for a few days as they clear the patient backlog from the explosions,” replied Steven. “He really needs to clear his head anyway.”

“He took her death personally, you guys,” said Brad. “I’m told he reluctantly let her go out on patrol to begin with. Then, when he couldn’t save her…” Brad looked into his glass before he drank it down. He stood and walked to the bar and poured himself another.
I need this
.

“We understand,” said Julia. “We all loved Sabs and considered her one of us.”

Steven raised his glass in a toast. “A toast to the fallen.” They all clinked glasses and finished their drinks. While they were refilled, Brad walked through the room and looked into the darkening Boston skyline. He caught his breath and walked back to the group.

“There’s a storm brewin’,” said Brad as he sat down. “This Governor O’Brien is a real piece of work.”

“Here’s what I know about him,” said Julia. “The paper did a background story on O’Brien years ago when he took the helm of the Carmen’s Union. He’s known to be hard-nosed. He’s almost a throwback to the fifties era of union bullying tactics. His battles with Governor Baker over the MBTA are legendary. There is absolutely no love lost between those two. In fact, they don’t speak to each other.”

“He’s got a Napoleon complex, from what I’ve seen of him,” added Sarge. “In his public appearances, he’s overly aggressive and domineering.”