Falling Into Place (25 page)

His face was a mixture of sadness and serenity, like a death row inmate who’d finally accepted his fate.

“I’m afraid sorry isn’t good enough, Agent!” Jill said forcefully, startling the agent. The therapist was desperate enough to try something radical. Meadows instantly looked repentant, lowering the arm holding the gun so it was now pointing at the floor. “You’ve already wasted enough of my time so sit down now and let’s get on with it!”

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry,” he said softly, quickly taking a seat across from her. Jill maintained an annoyed countenance, trying not to look at the pistol, as she wondered what could’ve happened to make the agent so distraught. Before taking Darrell Meadows on as a patient, Dr. Musik had done her homework on the man. He was a four time decorated soldier serving multiple tours in both Iraq and Afghanistan during his military career. She knew he was as steady and dependable as a person could be, always putting the lives of civilians and his fellow soldiers before his own. It was unnerving to see a man of this caliber reduced to his current state. Whatever was affecting him like this, Jill needed to help him get through it, to show this heroic man he wasn’t alone in the world. She decided to get him talking and hope for the best.

“You were just about to tell me about your last mission, so why don’t you start with that?” Dr. Musik said.

Agent Meadows stared off into space, his mouth agape. “The mission, yes. That’s when everything changed, when I learned the truth.”

“Truth? What do you –?” Jill started to say before she was interrupted by pounding on her office door.

“Dr. Musik! Dr. Musik, are you all right?” a man yelled through the door. “This is Sec-1, Agent Markham speaking! What is your status, Doctor?”

“No, no, no, no. They’re here already,” Agent Meadows said forlornly, his voice barely above a whisper as his eyes began to water.

“Take it easy, Darrell. I’ll handle this. Just take a deep breath and try to stay calm,” Dr. Musik said, beginning to stand. “Everything is fi –”

Agent Meadows reached out and grabbed her with a speed she’d never seen before. He quickly stood behind her, gripping her in a vise-like embrace with his left arm around her torso, pinning her arms at her sides. His strength was incredible. Darrell Meadow looked like a football star, standing at 6’4” and 220 pounds of solid muscle with a thick neck and broad shoulders. He had features that reminded her of a young Lenny Kravitz, except with darker skin and a military-issue haircut. The agent had a three-inch scar above his left eyebrow she assumed he got during combat, but they hadn’t covered that in session yet.

Jill began to panic in his grip, struggling to break free, but that just made him increase the pressure. The pounding on the door stopped abruptly, giving her a feeling of impending doom. Time seemed to slow down. She could feel the heat coming off the agent’s face as Meadows put his mouth close to her ear. He whispered so softly she could barely hear him over the sound of her own heart beating like a trip hammer. “I realize you don’t understand. How could you?” he said with such calmness it scared the doctor. “I know this seems odd but I’m not crazy, Dr. Musik. No matter what happens here, remember to look beyond the smoke screen, to keep your eyes open. Please, I know you will see it like I did.”

Without warning, the door to her office exploded inward. Through a haze of smoke and swirling debris, half a dozen agents streamed into the room, throwing the couch and other pieces of furniture to the side. They were all armed with “Zappers,” high tech stun guns used by the agency’s security team. Jill’s two-week orientation included a full briefing on the weapons, so she knew they weren’t pleasant. However, they did incapacitate without killing. Thank goodness for small favors.

“Ask yourself, how did they know what was happening in here, what I was doing?” Meadows whispered, as tears streamed down his cheeks. “How did they get here so fast? How?”

“Wha – ?” Jill began as the men approached cautiously.

“Just remember, they are always watching. Always listening. Keep your eyes open, Doctor,” Meadows whispered, before shoving Dr. Musik toward the nearest Sec-1 agent and putting the pistol to his right temple. He closed his eyes tightly, his finger on the trigger.

Jill spun around screaming, “No! Darrell please, don’t! Don’t do it!”

Agent Meadows hesitated, opening his eyes as he locked his gaze on Jill. A second later, 5 Zapper rounds struck him in the chest causing him to convulse and collapse to the floor in a spasmodic heap, urine spreading through the front of his pants.

“Let go of me! Let go! He’s my patient, he needs my help!” Jill screamed, trying to get to her fallen patient, but to no avail as the agent restraining her maintained his tight grip.

“Please, Dr. Musik, that will be enough,” came a gravelly voice from behind Jill. “There is no need for these histrionics.”

The voice belonged to General Leland DeVane, decorated war hero, former Secretary of Defense and current Director of the NDSA. He strode into the office like he owned the place, surveying the scene as he brushed past the security agents. He stood 6’ 3” tall, with a barrel chest and a rigid demeanor. Despite his advancing years, General DeVane looked like he could run a 5K marathon and still win a street fight immediately after. His narrow eyes, chiseled features and gruff exterior conjured up images of Clint Eastwood or Charlton Heston in their later years. This was a man who exuded confidence, possessed with a clarity of certitude that few others could match.

“Markham!” DeVane barked.

“Yes, sir!” The head of Sec-1 responded almost before the General had finished saying his name.

“Take Meadows to the infirmary and get maintenance up here to take care of Dr. Musik’s door and the rest of this mess. I want it completed within the hour!” the Director said, before turning to the agent holding Jill. “I think the danger has passed, Agent... Ridgeway, is it?”

“Yes, Sir, General DeVane, Sir. Agent William Ridgeway, Sir,” the agent stammered.

“Then release Dr. Musik immediately!” the General bellowed. Agent Ridgeway complied instantly, retreating to assist the other agents carrying Darrell Meadows out of the room. Jill straightened her clothing, a little embarrassed to be meeting the Director this way. She took two steps toward him but he purposely turned his back to her, again scanning the room from side to side.

The therapist stopped, somewhat put off by the General’s rudeness, then finished adjusting her skirt, before saying quietly, “I’m sorry, sir. I should have seen this coming.”

“Nonsense!” DeVane said, gesturing emphatically but still not turning toward her. “You’re to be commended for your actions here today, Doctor. Agent Meadows is obviously a deeply troubled individual and you’ve seen him, what, two times? There was no way you could have predicted this in such a short time. This is not on you, Dr. Musik.”

Jill managed a half smile, “I still think I should have done more to help him.”

DeVane continued to look around the room, intently watched the Sec-1 agents performing their various duties, ever watchful for any breach of protocol, as he half-heartedly said, “You helped diffuse a very difficult situation here today. Kudos to you, Doctor.”

The therapist purposely walked into the General’s line of vision before saying, “I’d like to know what will happen to Agent Meadows now, sir. I’d like to schedule a follow-up session as soon as possible.”

“You’d like –?” DeVane started to say angrily before stopping himself. He took a deep breath and smiled. It seemed like a totally unnatural act for him, making his face look more contorted than congenial. “Agent Meadows will be treated in our emergency care unit, Doctor. The health and well-being of our agents is always our highest priority here at the NDSA. These brave young men and women deserve nothing less than that.” DeVane pivoted away from her once more.

It sounded like he was reading talking points from a pre-approved script during a committee meeting or congressional hearing. Even so, Jill felt it was a less-than-award-winning performance, said with little to no conviction or earnestness. Simply put, he was blowing her off and no matter who he was, she wasn’t going to roll over that easily when a patient needed her help.

Dr. Musik swallowed hard and said, “General DeVane, sir, I believe I could offer a great many insights into Agent Meadows’ condition. I want to be a part of his continued treatment.”

“Dr. Musik...” the director began, through gritted teeth, “...I understand that you are new to the NDSA so perhaps you don’t yet understand how we do things. I’m willing to give you a pass on that, but you should know this agency is run in a military fashion.” He turned toward Jill with rage in his eyes. “There is a chain of command and let me assure you, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that I am at the top of that chain, Doctor!” DeVane got right in her face, leaning over so they were almost nose to nose, causing the woman to recoil instinctively, each word getting louder and more belligerent as he continued, “In fact the only person who gets to tell me what he wants is the God damned President of these United States!”

“But...” Jill started before being cut off.

“Agent Meadows is no longer your concern, Doctor! The quicker you accept that fact, the quicker you can get back to doing the work we brought you here to do!” the General barked out before striding to the door, stopping just before the now-empty frame. “Markham!” he shouted as the head agent scurried over. The Director pointed toward the doorway as he said, “Check the doorway for sharp edges or hazardous materials, Agent. We wouldn’t want the good doctor to hurt herself.”

Jill immediately felt her anger rise at the condescending insinuation that she was a helpless female incapable of taking care of herself. She opened her mouth to protest when DeVane added, “If I were you, Dr. Musik, I would put all this out of my mind and focus on helping the agents that
are
under your care. After all, we have to ensure something like this doesn’t happen again on your watch. I trust this is the last I’ll hear on this matter.” He walked out without even a glance at the stunned therapist.

“Son of a –” Jill muttered but stopped herself when she realized the remaining Sec-1 agents were staring at her.

They all seemed rather amused by her confrontation with the Director, whispering and smiling to each other. Instead of reacting to their snickers, the infuriated therapist simply took a seat behind her desk, busying herself with organizing her notes on the day’s patients and their respective cases. The Sec-1 agents left once the maintenance staff arrived. Jill sat comfortably in her office chair with her legs crossed, writing in a yellow legal pad as they went about their work. Once they finished with the clean-up and installing her new door, the lead member of the crew, a man with Gene written on his uniform, approached her desk smiling meekly.

“We’re all set here but unfortunately we won’t be able to stencil your name on the door again until Monday, Dr. Musik. I hope that’s okay.” Gene said respectively. “Stan, the guy who does our stenciling, left early today for a family function.”

“No problem at all, Gene. You guys did a wonderful job. Thanks so much,” Jill responded in the friendliest way she could muster, despite still churning inside at the way Director dickhead had treated her. She even managed a half-hearted smile. The maintenance man turned to leave but stopped himself.

He said very quietly, “Um...I know you just started here, Doctor, so if you ever need someone to show you around or if, I don’t know... you’d ever like to...if you want to have lunch together sometime, I’d like that very much.” Gene blushed a little, smiled awkwardly and left the work order on her desk before quietly leaving the room without waiting for a response.

As soon as she heard the unmistakable “click” of the door closing, Jill put the maintenance man’s awkward advance out of her mind. Her brow furled as she moved to the edge of the chair, her back rigid, and began typing into her computer. She quickly opened her access to the patient server and entered her password. She was determined to figure out why her patient had snapped, to help Agent Meadows any way she could, no matter who told her otherwise. She entered his name in the search bar and hit enter. “File not found” appeared in a red box accompanied by a ding. She tried it again. “File not found.”

Dr. Musik made a bewildered face as she ran her hand through her hair. She closed the server access and went to her desktop, opening a folder marked “patient files.” She scrolled down the file list but went too fast, passing the “M’s” completely. When she went back up, nothing was there. None of Agent Meadows’ personnel files that were forwarded to her, none of her session notes, nothing! She slowly let out a long breath, her mind racing. Jill quickly opened her scheduling calendar, instantly noticing that all of Darrell Meadows’ upcoming appointments were gone, replaced with the name Ian Conroy.

“God damn it!” Jill yelled, slamming her fist on the desk.

She thought to herself,
Those bastards erased him! There is no evidence Darrell Meadows was ever my patient. But why?
She stared at the blinking cursor on the screen, pondering what Meadows had said: “Just remember, they’re always watching. Always listening. Keep your eyes open, Doctor.” Finally, she slumped back into her chair, thoroughly frustrated, but with a single thought in her mind:
This isn’t over yet.

Four hours later, Jill Musik sat slumped in the same position on her beige, sectional couch. She wore an old hospital scrub top and yoga pants with her hair up in a ponytail. Cake and chocolate crumbs littered her chest and torso, the empty plates from her comfort food feast next to her. On her left, shoved between two couch cushions, was a rapidly dwindling bottle of Yellowtail Merlot. She clutched a wine glass in her right hand, now empty after multiple refills. A rerun of
How I Met Your Mother
played on the television, but her eyes were unfocused, her mind still replaying the events from her office. Anger and resentment sat in her stomach like a bad case of indigestion.

The buzzing of her cell phone broke her out of her musings. She reached for it instinctively and checked the caller ID. Jill hesitated for a few seconds, before placing it face down next to her empty plates. The next instant her front door opened and Colleen Crenshaw walked in.