The Emotion Game

Chapter Three: Meeting

"Hey, Reb. Captain wants to see you."

Jack looked up from the clipboard he was studying and met an empty room. Where did the voice go? He tucked it under his arm and swallowed, taking off in the direction of the open doorway. His hip bumped the stainless-steel handle as he stepped into the hallway, causing the door to jolt against the wall with a loud clang of wood on drywall. It was one of those faux-wooden doors, the kind that was that off-beige, yellowish-brown color. He glanced down either side of the hall, directing his voice into the center. "Did he happen to mention what he wanted?"

A head of flaxen hair tied back into a ponytail popped around the side of an open room. "What was that?"

Jack looked to the right and stepped closer to the source. "Did the captain say what he needed?"

The girl inhaled, fingering the hem of her shirt, adjusting the pen tucked behind her ear afterwards. "What does he usually want?"

Jack nodded, moistening his lips. He glanced down at his clipboard again. "Okay." He stated rather blandly. "Thanks." He gave her an appreciative smile and snugged the clipboard in the crook of his arm and against his side.

"Good luck." 

Jack turned and caught her stare. He nodded, pursing his lips upwards into an affirming expression as he gave an awkward wave with his free hand. As if he was capable of anything more.  He picked up a comfortable gait down the hallway, his eyes zoning down to the door of his intended location. A group of several paramedics rushed into the hall, walking several paces more before stopping to finish their conversation.

Jack slowed his pace to observe as he came near, peering through necks and shoulders as he squeezed past the group, his shoulder brushing the wall. The air around the group smelled of sweat and rubbing alcohol, a mixture that made Jack's stomach hurt and—his muscles stiffened. Blood. He glanced over his shoulder making eye contact with one of the paramedics. Yep. He stared at the red splotches sprinkled on the man's upper torso. Those were fresh blood stains alright. He gave the Medic a nod and picked up his pace again, readjusting his clipboard.  That bright white E.M.T uniform was good for one thing. It made the spotting of blood stains as trivial as finding a mouse in a cheese shop.

The corner of Jack's mouth lifted. That was funny. He inhaled a fresh breath of air and moistened his bottom lip as he stopped his pace, staring at the name plate tacked to the door. Captain Harris. This would be interesting. He raised his hand, preparing to knock when the blinds on the adjoining window snapped upwards and a muted voice disrupted the air.

"Come on in."

Jack's ears processed the phrase and he slid his free hand onto the cool temperature of the door handle. The latch clicked open and he poked his head into the room, followed suit by the rest of his body. "Sir." He nodded to the man seated in front of him, acknowledging rank. He should step towards the desk. He did.

"Hey, Jack."

The voice came from behind. Jack turned his upper body in its direction to gain vision of the familiar tone. "I'll be out in a minute okay?"

Greg winked. "Sir," He nodded to the Captain, pressing his shoulder against the open doorway.

The man put down his pen and gathered a stack of paper to place in a drawer, afterwards pulling a laptop out of another, setting it at the papers' previous place. "Come in and close the door, Hunt. This is about you too."

Jack exchanged glances with his friend. What did that mean?

But Greg actually voiced the inquiry. "What do you want us for?"