Dr. Greiss swayed on his feet.
Forty minutes later, the amber lights stopped flashing.
The lobby was quiet.
The storm had thinned to a drizzle.
The marble still held the shine of wet footprints.
Captain Elaine Roark, commanding officer of Admiral Prescott Naval Medical Center, stood in the middle of it.
A raincoat over her dress blues.
She listened to Hale for six minutes without a word.
Then she turned to Dr. Greiss.
“Harlan, tell me what you did.”
“Captain, I was protecting this institution. No referral, no chart. I followed protocol.”
“You ordered a nurse away from a hypothermic infant.”
“She disobeyed a direct order.”
“She saved his life.”
Roark’s voice did not rise.
It did not need to.
“You nearly handed two children to armed men with forged papers because they wore suits and you liked the sound of their authority.”
“I could not have known.”
“You did not ask. That is worse.”
