xp_logs | Kaiten: When Tomorrow Comes (Reply)

Nathan drags Pete off to update him privately on the events of the day. Later, after they've finally gotten some good news, Nathan is about this close to going postal on some overly persistent journalists when Joel shows up at exactly the right moment - and then sets Nathan a challenge he hadn't expected.

Maybe it would have been better to stay in the waiting room with the others for this, but then, everyone except the newly arrived-from-New-York knew the situation, and Nathan suspected that Pete would probably prefer to hear it from him, in something approaching privacy. "She's still in surgery," he said quietly as they came across a small seating area arranged in front of a window. Beyond the window, the lights of Tel Aviv were obscured by steady rain. "Last I heard they were hoping to be finishing up soon, but they had a lot to do."

Pete ran a hand through his hair. "What exactly happened? How bad is it?"

"I drove by what's left of the office on my way here after I landed." He hadn't stopped, but he'd seen enough. He knew explosives, what sort of bomb produced what kind of destruction. "Hard to tell in the dark, but it looked like a car bomb, maybe. Front side of the building's gone, most of the rest is where the lobby used to be." Nathan took a deep breath and then let it out. None of the tension went with it. "Dom was critical when they brought her in, but they're sounding more optimistic now. I'm keeping track." His voice tightened slightly as he went on. "We had twelve dead on site, two more on the operating table. All of our new field staff was on the first floor of the building, doing their orientation."

"Shit. I'm sorry about your people, mate."

Pete was silent for a second.

"I have no fucking idea what I'm supposed to do here, you know?"

"Wait," Nathan said steadily, if not at all helpfully. "You'll be glad that you're doing that here, rather than on the other side of the Atlantic... maybe not right this second, but you will be." He looked towards the window for a moment, then back at Pete. "Did you hear about the other bombings?" he asked slowly, not entirely sure if Pete would want to think about that right now. But at the very least it might be a distraction, something to keep his mind off the fact that he really couldn't do anything right now. "You were probably over the Atlantic when they happened." And he somehow doubted Pete had stopped to check the news when they'd landed.

"Other bombings?" Pete eyebrows went up.

Nathan's smile was utterly humorless. "The UN mutant office in Paris, Barath's Ministry in Budapest, and Moira's friends over in Switzerland at the Mueller Institute. All within a few hours of when we got hit here. Don't ask me what we were doing in such exalted company, but from the look of the news we got off the lightest." He rubbed at his jaw, his mind straying briefly in the direction of the operating room. "I told Moira to ramp up security at Muir," he said distractedly.

"Shit. I thought this was just the usual local idiots. Fuck. Well, I called a mate at Mossad before I left New York, just to let him know that I might be calling on him. I'll go see him as soon as she's out of surgery."

"You should take David with you," Nathan said, still a little distantly. Listening. "Once his ears stop ringing. His old stomping grounds and all... I'm actally surprised we haven't had any visitors from the Shabak yet. I've been scaring off press all evening." #GO AWAY,# he projected at a couple of particularly bold journalists who were making their way into the hospital, their intentions clear.

Pete scowled. "This part of the world, they don't usually need to look to far to work out who was behind a bombing. Give 'em a while to get used to the idea that it might not have been the Palestinians, first."

He started out the window for a second or two.

"Fuck, I completely forgot to ask - how's Angelo doing?"

"He'll be out of here tomorrow morning. They're just keeping him in for observation for the concussion." Nathan hesitated, but then went on more softly. "He was the one who found Dom and dug her out. Kept her breathing until the paramedics got there."

"Thank fuck for Angelo."

Pete paused.

"You know, we talked about this sort of thing a couple of times - the places work takes us, we'd've been stupid not to. But I figured it'd be me in there lying on the table, you know?"

"You figured she was safe - or at least safer, doing this sort of work," Nathan said, almost inaudibly. "I get that, Pete. Believe me, I get it. Because I thought they were all safer."

"Yeah, something like that."

Pete opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then he took a breath.

"Look, there's something I want to get said, now, before I change me mind. And if it were anyone else but and your people, I wouldn't even be doing this, I'd just go and do what I thought needed doing. But once we find out who did this, we need to sort out some kind of response, and you can probably guess what sort of thing I think needs doing right now." Pete smiled grimly. "But I know that Elpis needs to be seen as one of the good guys and part of the system. So once we work out what the fuck is going on, you let me know what you need even if it's just me to keep my lot the fuck out of it."

He paused.

"But I would strongly suggest getting the bastards tried somewhere that's a little less than civilized if you possibly can."

Nathan actually smiled for the first time since the news had reached Muir this morning. It was a thin, wintry smile, but it was a smile. "There are responses and then there are responses," he said. "This is far-reaching enough, Pete, that I think there will probably be room for all of us."

He would have said more, but stopped, his eyes gone distant as he 'listened'. The expression that crossed his face came and went so quickly that it was unreadable, and in the next moment, he was focused on Pete again.

"I just heard Dom's surgeon leaving the operating room," he said. "He's coming out to the waiting room, we should go back." He managed another smile, just as slight but more than a little unsteady with relief. "He thinks she's going to be okay."

--

Sometimes the old saw about the straw that broke the camel's back was entirely too apt. Nathan had just managed to steal a quick glimpse of Dom as they'd moved her from recovery to the ICU, followed by a few minutes sitting with Ani, who was going to have to be hauled bodily away from Ian's side when visiting hours ended if he guessed right. So when he stepped back out into the hall and sensed more damned journalists approaching, he was abruptly sick to death of just 'suggesting' that they turn around and leave. No, more lasting measures were clearly required here.

"Nathan," MacInnis said warily, rising from the chair where he'd been slumped, as Nathan stalked past the door of the waiting room and down the hall towards where he sensed the offending members of the press. "Son, just hold on a sec-"

"Bite me, Mac," Nathan growled without a backward glance.

"Nathan."

Oh, no. He was not letting Mac talk him out of throwing them out of here. As he rounded the corner, his eyes narrowed dangerously as he saw no less than four journalists, a full news crew, harassing a hospital security guard who was trying very hard to be diplomatic. Well, he'd just have to help the poor man out. Fuck the diplomatic approach...

"Gentlemen!"

Nathan stopped dead as Joel came around the corner at the end of the hall, directed a very calm smile at him that had a very definite edge of 'Go and sit down, Nathan' to it, and then turned all of his attention to the journalists. "I'm Joel Rollins," he introduced himself as they turned towards him. "Head of the Elpis board. If you're looking for someone to give a statement, why don't we step out to the lobby where we're not going to be disturbing anyone."

Suddenly they were following Joel right back out to the lobby, content as lambs trailing along after a favorite shepherd, and Nathan just stood there, shaking his head as MacInnis appeared at his side. "I wish I knew how he did that."

"Practice, son. Come on," MacInnis said, taking his arm and steering him back towards the waiting room. Nathan sank into a chair, trying very hard not to pay attention to the television, currently replaying a montage of reactions from various world leaders. "I was wondering how much longer he'd be. He made it here in good time, given that he had to take a commercial flight."

Nathan just grunted. He was not in the mood for talking about fucking flight times, damn it. MacInnis, wisely, kept further small talk to himself and just waited with him until Joel reappeared, standing there at the door of the waiting room for a moment, watching them, before he came in and sat down.

"Bad day," he offered quietly. Nathan nodded tightly. "One of you want to give me an update?"

MacInnis did before Nathan could so much as open his mouth, summing everything up in cool, stark terms and less than two minutes. The fact that he made it sound like just one more briefing was a little vexing, but Nathan stepped hard on the reaction, telling himself it was irrational. "... and that's where we're at," MacInnis concluded, his voice growing quieter. "Everyone who's still alive is expected to make it through the night."

Joel rubbed at his jaw, sighing softly. "Thank God for that, at least," he said, sounding subdued. "I'm going to have to be gone again in the morning," he said before Nathan or MacInnis could add anything. "Helping the families make arrangements. It's best if I'm the one who does that. Nathan, I understand you'll want to be spending a good portion of your time here, but there's a lot of work to be done and I'm going to be depending on you to make sure that end of things is covered."

Nathan stiffened in his chair, straightening and just about ready to snap at Joel for being that callous when he saw, really saw the look in the other man's eyes. There was nothing brisk or uncaring about this, he realized. Just determination and sorrow. "Tomorrow?" he asked uncertainly.

"Tomorrow," Joel affirmed softly, "but no later. If we do anything but hit the ground running, we might as well throw in the towel right now. Bigger and older organizations than us have crumbled utterly under less than this. We can't delay," he said, and beside Nathan, MacInnis gave a strange, half-stifled sigh of what sounded like resigned understanding. "Or everyone out there who thought we were a flash in the pan with more money than sense will be writing our epitaph in the eyes of the world."

Nathan stared at him for a long moment, then looked, almost unwillingly, back at the television. "It's hard. To think on that level, when-"

"I know. But we have to decide right now, Nathan. Whether we're going to be the victims of unknown terrorists, or whether we're going to get back up, bury our dead and tend our wounded, and get on with the job. What we do in the next few days," Joel said, "is going to determine where we go from here."

"You would've made one hell of an officer, Rollins," MacInnis said, his voice very dry. "Or maybe a politician." He looked at Nathan. "'If you're going through hell, keep going'," he quoted. Nathan just stared at him. "Churchill, son. Joel's got a point. The sooner we stop reeling from this, the better off we'll be. I'd lay money on that old warhorse Barath having similar plans."

Nathan stared at MacInnis for a moment longer, then directed that same somewhat blank stare at Joel briefly, before shaking himself. "The two of you worry me sometimes - and the idea of you calling anyone else old is laughable, Mac." He paused. "But you do have a point. Both of you."

"Tomorrow," Joel said. "Tomorrow is soon enough, Nathan. Tell me more about how the injured are doing."