Patient One by Leonard Goldberg

nearby suite came the sound of someone throwing up violently. Then there was a loud groan and more vomiting, followed by the noise of liquid splashing onto the floor.
    Aliev ignored the sounds and looked over to Carolyn. “I will require a large room. Which is the largest room on this pavilion?”
    Carolyn thought for a moment. “I guess the nurses’ lounge. It’s a little bigger than the suites.”
    “Good,” Aliev said. “We can put all the hostages in there. That will make it easier to control their activities.”
    Carolyn looked at him incredulously and blurted out, “You can’t! They’ll never sit still for that.”
    Aliev’s eyes narrowed into angry slits. “We will shoot those who resist and leave their bodies in the room as a warning to the others. Or perhaps we should begin by killing one of the hostages. That would remove all resistance, eh?”
    Carolyn realized she had gone too far and softened the tone of her voice. “Sir,” she said deferentially, “I didn’t mean to imply that they would fight you. I was just trying to tell you that their physical condition would make it impossible to crowd them all into the lounge. Please keep in mind that these patients have terrible nausea and vomiting, and some have severe diarrhea as well. I don’t think they could stand to stay in one room with only a single bathroom.”
    Aliev considered shoving all the hostages into a cramped lounge despite the vomit and fecal stench they’d be exposed to. He couldn’t care less about their discomfort. But if the conditions became unbearable, the hostages might riot and try to break out. Then he’d have no choice but to shoot them. And for now he wanted them alive because they might be useful as bargaining tools later on. They could also serve as human shields. Finally Aliev nodded and said, “They may remain where they are. But they are to stay in their rooms, and if they so much as step into the corridor they will be shot. There will be no exceptions. Understood?”
    “Understood,” Carolyn said.
    “And you and the doctor will limit yourselves to going only into the President’s room,” Aliev went on. “I want him kept alive. What happens to the other hostages is of no concern to me.”
    “But the President will ask about his wife and daughter,” Warren interjected. “He’ll insist on knowing that they’re all right.”
    Aliev’s face hardened. “He is in no position to insist on anything. Nor are you.”
    Warren held up a hand defensively. “I’m only trying to tell you that I know the President very well and—whatever your demands—he won’t budge an inch unless he knows his family is being looked after.”
    “And the President’s wife takes a diuretic medicine for her hypertension,” Carolyn inserted. “Fluid loss in these instances can be life-threatening.”
    Aliev narrowed his eyes. “How do you know what medications the President’s wife takes?”
    “Because I asked when I checked her into her room and took her vital signs,” Carolyn answered at once.
    Aliev hesitated, then slowly nodded. He wanted the President’s family alive. They could be used to manipulate John Merrill at a crucial moment. “You will be allowed to care for the President and his family, but no one else.”
    Carolyn gathered up her courage for a final request. “Sir, there’s also a desperately ill—”
    “No one else,” Aliev snapped harshly. “Now let us move on.”
    As the trio approached Marci Matthews’s room, Carolyn said to Aliev, “These patients are very sick. Is it really necessary to put them through this?”
    “Yes,” Aliev said and pushed the door open. “Now stop asking questions, and do as you’re told.”
    Marci watched the group enter, her doe-like eyes darting back and forth between Carolyn and the large weapon Aliev was holding. She hurriedly pulled the sheet up to her chin and tried to push herself away. The pulse rate on her cardiac monitor suddenly jumped to 100 per minute.