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“I’m going to need you both to come downtown with us now.” The rookie delighted in telling them what they were going to do.
Quick grumbled, “Call Judge. Tell him to call those friends of his in the Atlanta PD; we might need a couple allies on this one.”
“We always think alike, brother.” Duke pulled out his cell phone while they were being escorted out of their own building. They went to stand at the end of the sidewalk behind the tape another office was putting around their parking lot. It was brighter outside, and the Atlanta working class was waking up and heading to their jobs while Quick and Duke waited for Judge to answer.
“This better be good,” Judge’s groggy voice answered on the fourth ring.
“Wish I could call with good news, but it’s not happening today.”
“What’s up?” Judge asked, more alert.
“Fast version. There’s been a homicide in the office. Dana fired the kill shot. Brian’s hurt and Quick has a hit out on him.”
“Oh, damn. Everyone alright?”
“For the most part, yeah. Brian looks bruised pretty bad.”
“I’m getting up. I’ll be there in an hour. Let me make a few calls.”
“Thanks. We’re gonna be going down to the precinct soon, so meet us there. Call up your friends in the APD. We need some help. The cops are hinting at we may have used excessive force.”
“God and Day? Hell. Shit’s about to turn real ugly, now.”
“I heard they’re a little unorthodox, but just call them.”
“You asked for them… you got them.”
Cayson
He didn’t get another text from Quick, but at least he’d gotten the one saying he was okay. Must’ve been a false alarm. He had no clue what time Quick was going to return, and regardless of the fact that he’d awoken before dawn, he couldn’t possibly go back to sleep. He grabbed his messenger bag and went into Quick’s office, shutting himself inside with his cell phone right next to him and his watch securely on his wrist.
~~~~~~~~~~
He rubbed his tired eyes, and looked at his watch. It was after noon already. He picked up his cell phone and checked to see if he had any missed messages. Nope, none. He sighed tiredly, standing to stretch his back. Cayson needed to do something to pass the time, because he’d already caught up on the few files he’d brought with him, and since he wasn’t at his home computer, he couldn’t access any other files from the hospital. Why didn’t I grab my laptop? Maybe I can run home real fast and get it. Working was how Cayson always dealt with stress. The hours would pass and before he knew it, Quick would be back and in his arms.
Cayson sent Quick a text and went to put on some warmer clothes.
Running home a sec, be right back. Need my computer. Don’t worry, my watch is on.
He wanted to add a PS at the end of that message, but again, figured there’d be a better time to say what he felt for Quick. Cayson looked at his watch, then checked his cell phone again. Quick didn’t object to him leaving, assuming he saw his message, so he threw on his thick parka when he heard his cab honking at the curb. He’d drive his own car back so he wasn’t stuck here later and forced to use a cab if there was an emergency.
Cayson sat back in the cab after he rattled off his address. He wasn’t even halfway there when his cell phone rang in his pocket. He fumbled nervously, hoping it was Quick. His face dropped when he saw it was the nurse’s station in the ER.
“Dr. Chauncey speaking.” Cayson listened while the ER charge nurse begged for him to come in and help them with a rush. Something about a housing complex fire this morning. Patients were being rerouted to them from Regency South. First, he was miffed about not being able to spend his last day off with Quick, but he felt like a moron, because Quick wasn’t able to spend the day with him, anyway. Cayson exhaled in disappointment and told the nurse he’d be there in five minutes, then asked the cab driver to drop him at Emory Hospital instead of home.
It was indeed a madhouse when Cayson rushed through the double doors of the ER. Patients were lined along the hallway, all the rooms already in use. Shit, why hadn’t anyone opened the other triage area? One of the ER doctors on duty was taking a woman up to maternity; the other three were in patient rooms. Cayson looked at the chart and began crossing off and rewriting in new orders. If they didn’t clear the waiting room, there was no way they could accurately assess how many patients they were able to take from College Park. A fast track acute center should already be running as well, to clear out the patients with minor scrapes and bruises.
