Kilburn headed for the supply closet behind the nursing station. Feeling like a prowler, he slunk around the crowded room while looking for the lockbox. When he found the safelike box, marked RESEARCH : INFECTIOUS DISEASES, in the far corner of the room, he slipped the key in and turned the bolt. Once open, he reached his hand inside and carefully moved some papers out of the way. He fished around and pulled out two small boxes marked A and B with the SeptoMed logo below each. He took two pill bottles from each, and then put the rest back in the lockbox.

Glancing around again to make sure he was still alone, he pocketed the bottles and strode out of the room. Keeping his head down, he hurried out of the ER and back to the ICU.

Outside Parminder Singh’s room, he waved for the nurse, Nikki, to join him in the hallway. Nikki stepped out of the room. She slipped off her mask and gown and faced him in her scrubs. Thin and quiet, with wild locks of curly black hair, the thirtyish woman was known as one of the best in the ICU.

Standing in front of the room’s sealed doors, Kilburn handed her one bottle of each of the A and B pills. “Nikki, this is an experimental antibiotic from a research study,” he said.

“Which is?” she held up both bottles.

“I’m not sure,” Kilburn admitted. “One is a placebo and the other is the trial medication. I just grabbed them from the ER.”

She frowned. “I don’t think I’ve seen this done before.”

“You haven’t,” Kilburn said. He decided to gamble on the truth. “Nikki, I don’t even have permission from the company to use this drug. But you and I both know that Parminder is dying. And this drug has shown good results with MRSA. So maybe … .”

Nikki regarded him for a long moment before she finally nodded. “You’re the doctor. Write it on an order form and I’ll give it. Down her nasogastric tube, I presume?”

“Bless you, Nikki.” Kilburn grinned widely, resisting the urge to hug her. “You’ll have to give the same dose of each bottle, because we don’t know which is just a sugar pill.”

Nikki nodded again, but she didn’t return his smile.

Kilburn walked out of the ICU feeling vaguely elated. He understood how much trouble he might face for his actions, but he headed down to the microbiology lab, intending to get them to test both drugs A and B on the culture plates of Parminder’s G.A.S. swabs, satisfied he had done all he could for his patient.

He made it only halfway down the hallway when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He glanced at the name display, which read “S & N Fischer.” The name rattled around his consciousness, but he couldn’t place it. He answered it anyway.