Page 97 of Borrowed Pain
Marcus asked over the phone, "How long is the active phase?"
I reached out for Marcus's wrist, shaking my head. He pulled the phone away from his mouth.
"They're protecting it," I whispered. "The hospital genuinely believes this is legitimate research. Meridian has created perfect institutional cover."
Marcus completed his call. "Dr. Lemon, thank you for your time. We may follow up through other channels."
He set the phone down. "They have IRB approval. Federal oversight. Participant consent documentation. Everything appears legitimate on paper."
3:58 PM glowed on Dorian's monitor. Twenty minutes had evaporated.
I paced the warehouse floor. "It was only a consultation. He wouldn't have volunteered for a study."
Charlie tracked my movement, tail low with anxiety. When pack members disappeared, you found them and brought them back. You didn't wait for permission.
Unfortunately, in this case, we weren't a pack of wolves. We were civilians facing medical bureaucracy expertly manipulated to shield criminal activity.
Marcus opened his legal pad to a fresh page. "If they have legitimate institutional protection, we need to approach this systematically. Legal channels, federal oversight, and medical ethics complaints, if necessary."
"How long does that take?" I stopped pacing to face him.
"Days. Maybe weeks if they have strong legal representation."
"Miles doesn't have days. Based on their previous patterns, permanent damage begins within hours."
Matthew stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel over his hair.
"Is there a problem?" he asked and glanced at Dorian.
Marcus summarized. "The hospital believes Miles is a willing research participant. They're protecting him from us."
"Extraction options?"
"Limited," I said. "Federal oversight means security is tighter than normal. The hospital staff genuinely believe they're protecting important research."
"So we can't treat them as adversaries," Matthew declared. "They're not criminals—they're professionals doing what they think is right."
The moral complexity hit hard. Fighting Meridian meant fighting doctors, nurses, and security guards who believed they were protecting breakthrough trauma therapy.
Marcus looked up from his pad. "We need someone with the authority to override institutional protections."
"I have an old friend from Virginia, Agent Victoria Sadler," I said, finding her number. "She worked on corporate fraud when I was in behavioral analysis. If anyone will listen to conspiracy theories from a washed-up podcaster, it's her."
The phone rang four times before connecting.
"Ashcroft? Fucking hell, I haven't heard from you in three years. Please tell me you're not calling about another unsolved murder that the Bureau supposedly covered up."
"Victoria, I need five minutes of your time. It's about medical fraud, human trafficking, and federal agencies being used to protect criminal activity."
She was silent for a moment. Her tone was professional when she spoke again. "You have my attention. Make it count."
I breathlessly explained our predicament.
"Slow down, Ashcroft. Federal protection protocols for medical research are standard procedure when—"
"When the research involves breakthrough treatments for veteran PTSD, right?" I cut her off. "When the facility has received credible threats from domestic extremists who want to sabotage therapy that could help thousands of soldiers?"
She was silent again. Marcus and Matthew watched me pace, their expressions sharpening as they recognized the implications of my words.
