Lynn nodded multiple times, as if agreeing with what Michael was saying. Actually she wasn’t listening. Now that she knew for sure Carl had been sent to the Shapiro, she wasn’t at all surprised. Although she had tried to think more positively before she’d gotten the news, deep down she knew it was going to happen. There had been a disturbing inevitability about it. And thinking in this vein changed her emotional response from sadness to angry determination.
“Let’s go!” Lynn said with sudden resolve, interrupting Michael in midsentence as he talked about what he had been told concerning housing in Boston. Without warning, she turned and strode off. Michael had to make an effort to catch up with her.
“What’s the program?” Michael asked. Having to dodge patients in the hallway made it difficult to stay alongside her.
“I’m going down to IT and see if I can log on to one of their computers,” Lynn said. “This is war! I have to find out more about the Shapiro and what’s going on over there. If it is some kind of unethical drug-testing facility, I’m going to get Carl out of there ASAP. I don’t know how I’ll do it, but hell will freeze over before I let him be a human guinea pig.”
A number of hospital visitors and even a member of hospital security were waiting at the elevators, as the end of visiting hours had arrived. Michael would have liked to keep Lynn talking, to get her to calm down and keep her out of trouble, but he couldn’t without people overhearing. Lynn was ignoring him and staring into the middle distance, her mind obviously in overdrive.
Michael thought Lynn would get off on two to change out of the scrubs and give him a chance to talk to her. But she didn’t. It wasn’t until everybody got off on the main floor that he had the chance.
“I think we should go back to the dorm and chill,” Michael said as soon as the elevator doors closed and they were alone. “You got to cut the system a little slack here before you do something that gets us in real trouble. We’ve already got the medical school dean and the chief of anesthesia bent out of shape. Listen! We can always come back and visit IT later if you insist. I really think you should calm down first.”
“You can go back to the dorm,” Lynn snapped. The elevator bottomed out and the doors opened. Lynn got out with Michael on her heels.
“I’m not going back to the dorm until you do,” Michael said defiantly.
“Suit yourself,” Lynn said as they passed the Pathology Department and the morgue. Suddenly she stopped. “Why are you so intent on helping me now? You’ve told me that, growing up, you were always risk avoidant. We both know what I am planning on doing down here is a risk. It’s another serious violation of HIPAA, made even worse by fraudulently using someone else’s access. This is much worse than looking at Carl’s chart, which you reminded us is a class-five felony. This is way more serious. Why are you doing this?”
“I’m helping you because we’ve been helping each other for almost four years.”
“That doesn’t cut it, dude,” Lynn said. “Neither one of us has ever broken the law for the other. That’s never been asked. Legally, a class-five felony has mandatory jail time.”
“Okay, my friend. I’m doing it because I really feel for you. I feel your pain losing Carl. I’m doing it because I believe that if the roles were reversed and Kianna was involved, you’d do it for me.”
For a few minutes the two students looked at each other, their minds churning.
“I don’t know whether I’d do it or not for you,” Lynn said, trying to be honest.
“As my mamma used to say, ‘That don’t make no never mind for me.’ I wouldn’t have known I’d do it, either, but I’m doing it. And I’m convinced, no matter what you say, you’d do it for me. It’s called trust. We have that kind of a relationship.”
There was another short period of silence as the two continued to stare at each other.
“Okay,” Lynn said finally. “Maybe you are right. Maybe I would do it. Who’s to know? In the meantime, let’s get on with it!”
Just then a security guard appeared from behind them. Lynn and Michael held their collective breath, but the man ignored them and disappeared into the security office fifty feet ahead. Only then did they recommence walking.
Just beyond the security office they came to the Informational Technology door. They knew that the department was staffed 24/7, although it was common knowledge that there was only a skeleton crew after hours. Lynn tried the door. As she expected, it was unlocked.
Even though no one was in the large office, all the lights were on, just like in the OR. The room had a half dozen workstations with terminals, presumably for programmers. At one terminal was a coffee mug and some open manuals. In contrast to all the other monitors, which sported the usual hospital screen saver, this monitor had what looked like a spreadsheet. From where they were standing a bit of vapor could be seen rising out of the mug.
“Someone’s working here,” Lynn said.
“Very observant, Sherlock,” Michael said with a touch of sarcasm.
Along one wall were fixed windows looking into the room beyond, filled with large upright computer servers. Against the back wall was a row of private offices. Lynn made a beeline for the last office. A small plaque at eye level on the door said ALEXANDER TUPOLEV, DEPARTMENT HEAD. Without hesitation, Lynn opened the door and stepped in, holding it ajar for Michael. Then she closed the door and locked it.
“Hell, girl, what the fuck are you doing?” Michael said nervously. Shell-shocked, as if he had been duped into robbing a bank, he gazed around the modern office, with its minimalist decor. There was a large, freestanding desk totally devoid of clutter. There was also a desk-height countertop along one wall. On it were several computer terminals, each with a printer, and each fronted with Herman Miller Aeron chairs. “We can’t be caught in here.”
“This is the safest place for us to be for what we are doing,” Lynn said as she went directly to one of the computers and quickly made herself at home. She took out her cell phone and brought up Vladimir’s ID and password that Michael had given her. She placed the phone on the counter so that she could see the screen. “Considering it is eight o’clock at night, I was ninety-nine-point-ninety-nine percent sure Mr. Tupolev would not be in here. I sincerely doubt anyone will come knocking, provided we are quiet as mice. But if you want to bag it, I imagine the coast is still clear. I’ll meet you back at the dorm.”
“I’ll stick,” Michael said. He grabbed a chair and pulled it over as Lynn typed the user name, vm123@zmail.ru. And the password, 74952632237malaklov.
“The moment of truth,” Lynn said just before hitting ENTER. To her satisfaction, the log-in went flawlessly. She was in the hospital system with admin status.
“Slam dunk,” Michael said. “Okay, whatever you’re going to search for, do it fast! It would be sweet to get out of here before whoever is working in the outer office comes back.”
Lynn nodded. She knew what she wanted in general but in her rush hadn’t thought of specifics. “Let’s see: for starters, we should find out how many patients in the Shapiro have a gammopathy like Morrison.”
“We should also find out more about Ashanti Davis,” Michael suggested. “Like, why she is being given the drozitumab antibody. That should tell us if they are using her as a human guinea pig.”
“Right!” Lynn said. As per usual Michael’s insight was to the point.
“We should also get Shapiro death stats,” Michael said.
“For sure,” Lynn said. “It will be very interesting if we can learn the cause of death for each patient who passed away over the eight years they have been in operation. It’s also going to be interesting to find out how many patients have been discharged. No one thought to ask that when we had our tour.”