Chapter 7 - The Confrontation
Nora didn't pull away. She stood her ground, her back against the metal shelving. "I don't know what you're talking about, Britt."
"Don't play dumb with me, Ohio," Britt hissed, stepping closer until her face was inches from Nora's. "Carla told me you took the dose. You think you're some kind of hero? You're a six-week rookie. If I tell the board you stole narcotics or tampered with a patient's medication, your license is gone before sunrise. You'll never work in a hospital again."
"And if I tell Dr. Harrison what was actually in that syringe?" Nora countered, her voice rising slightly. "If I show him the discrepancies in the Admiral's file? If the military police get involved?"
Britt laughed, a short, ugly sound. "You have no proof. The file was updated by authorized base personnel. And that syringe? It’s just Ancef. If you run it to a lab, you'll find nothing but antibiotics and saline. We're not stupid, Nora. We don't leave trails."
"Then why are you cornering me in a hallway?" Nora asked.
Before Britt could answer, a bright, powerful flashlight beam cut through the darkness of the corridor.
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"Is there a problem here, Nurse Holloway?"
Dr. Harrison stood at the entrance of the hallway, flanked by two armed Naval Master-at-Arms officers. Behind them, sitting in a wheelchair pushed by Dave, was Admiral Arthur Vance. He was still in his hospital gown, his good arm resting on his lap, but his face carried the absolute, crushing authority of a commander on a battleship.
