Page 99 of Borrowed Pain
"Status," Michael demanded, dropping his bag and scanning the room for immediate threats.
"They've got Miles, and they are—" I couldn't say the rest.
Michael's expression shifted from tactical assessment to something approaching horror. "My brother. Are we fighting the entire system here?"
"Not the entire system," I whispered.
Dr. Humphries spoke again. "Mr. Ashcroft, I've been sending messages and making calls as we speak. Medical ethics committees, NIH oversight boards, and institutional review coordinators. There are people in the system who can override Meridian's protections if they understand what's happening."
"How fast can they move?"
"Academic bureaucracy isn't known for speed, but medical emergencies can accelerate everything. If I can demonstrate immediate patient harm..." Her voice trailed off. "I need to contact the FBI agent coordinating protection. Make her understand that the research she's guarding violates every ethical standard."
"Speak with Agent Victoria Sadler. I just spoke with her."
"Mr. Ashcroft, I will put my professional reputation on the line to save Dr. McCabe. It's the least I can do after I unwittingly enabled his capture."
"Rowan," Alex said quietly, "what do you need from us?"
"We need the FBI to understand that their intelligence sources are compromised."
Two minutes later, my phone buzzed with an incoming call. It was Agent Sadler.
"Ashcroft, I just spoke with Dr. Humphries. We need to talk."
I stepped into the guest room. "What did she say?"
"Dr. Humphries painted a disturbing picture. But I need you to understand—the intelligence we've been operating on suggests you're not a reliable source."
I pressed the phone tighter against my ear. "What kind of intelligence?"
"Financial records showing payments from foreign sources to your podcast. Communication intercepts suggesting coordination with domestic extremist networks. Psychological evaluations indicating obsessive behavior and a possible break from reality following your partner's death."
Someone had built a comprehensive dossier designed to discredit everything I'd discovered. "Victoria, those are fabrications—"
"Maybe. But they're from sources the Bureau considers reliable." I heard papers rustling.
"Victoria, how long have you been operating under these assumptions?"
"The Intel package arrived six weeks ago. We've been monitoring potential threats to breakthrough veteran therapy research since then." I detected a crack in her professional tone. "Ashcroft, if Dr. Humphries is right about systematic academic coercion..."
"Then every piece of intelligence you've received came through compromised sources."
Before she could respond, Victoria shared, "Dr. Humphries is requesting direct communication with the supervising agent. I'll call you back."
When I returned to the living room, Michael was unpacking his tactical gear and listening to Marcus coordinate with Seattle Fire Department contacts through his radio.
My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number:
Unknown:Dr. McCabe's research participation has been extended due to promising initial results. Estimated completion tomorrow evening. Visitor access remains restricted pending federal security review.
I showed the message to the room. Matthew's medical expertise kicked in immediately.
"Tomorrow evening means they're planning twenty-four to thirty hours of continuous pharmaceutical intervention." He pulled out his phone and began calculating drug metabolism timelines. "Neural pathway changes become permanent after prolonged exposure. We're not only racing against time—we're racing against irreversible brain damage."
Dorian pulled up Miles's GPS tracking data on his largest monitor. The signal had moved deeper into Harborview's basement levels, areas marked as high-security medical isolation.
"He's been relocated," Dorian announced. "Medical isolation ward, Sublevel 2."
