"Alright, Marcus, you're done. Remember to take that antibiotic at the exact same time every day until it's completely out. We need to get rid of that ear infection before it gets worse."

Marcus Perillo was the fourth man to be seen by Dr. Hadley that morning. The day had started with an announcement that each of the warehouse workers was to be examined by Dr. Hadley due to a possible case of Spanish Influenza. As Marcus left the exam area that had been set up in the corner of the warehouse floor, Connor called out the next name. 

"Frankie DiAngeles, you're up."

From across the busy warehouse, Frankie came wandering over, wiping his grease-stained hands on a rag. 

Eva arranged a fresh set of instruments on the small table as he flopped into the chair. 

"Heya, Doc, this really ain't necessary. I saw my doctor just last week. Said I'm fit as a fiddle."

With a friendly smile, Eva patted him on the shoulder as she began a very simple exam. 

"Not my call, Frankie. The Don wants everyone seen. He's taking no chances with any of his men. Spanish flu is nothing to trifle with. Open your mouth, please."

He didn't seem as jumpy as Eva thought he would. With Aurora Byrne having been through just hours ago and the Right Hand off on some sort of mission, it wouldn't have surprised Eva once bit if Frankie had been squirming much more. 

​​​​​​"Smug bastard...." she thought to herself as she continued the exam. Throat, eyes, nose, ears; all routine. Finally, she looped her stethoscope around the back of her neck and turned to the little table where she took a pre-filled syringe. 

"Alright then, up with the sleeve."

At this, Frankie narrowed his eyes a bit, but slowly began rolling up his sleeve. 

"What's this about?" 

"Just a preventative measure. Everyone's getting one."

From his post nearby, Connor patted his upper arm and showed Frankie his own band aid. 

"Alright, but I better get a lollipop or somethin'." 

Eva feigned a chuckle, then quickly swiped some antibacterial fluid over his arm. Frankie cringed ever so slightly as the needle went in. 

"See there? All done. You can roll your sleeve back down. Now, if you begin to have any symptoms in the next few days, you must come straight to me. Runny nose, fever, chills, cough..."

Frankie nodded, as if he were listening, but it was clear that he wasn't focusing very well. He interrupted Eva and spoke with a slur. 

​​​​​​"Hey Doc, I...I don't feel so...so good."

Eva looked over to Connor and nodded. The burly Irishman moved to Frankie's side and pulled him up by the arm. 

"Come on, Frankie. You look like you could use some fresh air."

Eva put her things back into the bag and pulled off her lab coat. She glanced to Connor briefly. 

"See you in the car."

Frankie DiAngeles' head lolled from one side to the other in the back seat of the car Hank had "arranged." It hadn't taken long at all for him to spill a mostly-coherent confession about being a cop as they drove to Sterling Heights. He even laughed about it. As Eva loaded her pistol, Connor looked at her with a measure of curiosity.

"What was in that shot anyway?"

Eva cocked the gun as Hank turned the car down Lennox Avenue.

"Sodium pentathol. Given in the right dose, it can relax the nervous system so much that the patient simply doesn't care what they're saying, and are more likely to tell the truth. Hence, Mr. DiAngeles here- oh, excuse me- Detective DiAngeles copped to being a cop."

Without a moment of hesitation, Eva jammed the business end of the pistol against the detective's mid section. With a bitter venom in her voice, Eva grabbed a handful of the man's hair and yanked his head upright to look directly into his eyes.

"You are fortunate that I didn't have time to wait until you felt this."

The gun fired. What would have been a spray of blood all over the back seat simply soaked the coat that the Detective was wearing. The man gasped and groaned. Hank stopped the car at the curb and let Eva step out with her purse. 

"I promise I won't be gone long, honey. Bye!"

Eva smiled and blew a kiss toward the car as it pulled away. To everyone else, it looked like a house wife getting dropped off for an afternoon of shopping. She walked somewhat briskly down the block, pausing every now and then to look into shop windows. Meanwhile, Connor and Hank pulled up to the mouth of an alley on the other side of the block. Hank looked over his shoulders, then hissed to Connor.

"Looks good, no one is around. Do it."

The car door swung open, and the groaning sack of flesh hit the pavement with a thud. Hank gunned the gas and sped off, careful not to leave tire marks as he did.

"Oh my god! Someone's been shot!"

Eva heard the commotion as she rounded the corner. Perfect timing. She hurried toward the gathering crowd.

"I'm a doctor! Move!"

The officer shook his pen, trying to get the ink flowing again.

"Wait, spell your last name again?"

"Farragut- F-a-r-r-a-g-u-t. Dr. Lindsey Farragut. Long Island, New York."

Eva sighed somberly as she watched EMTs pull a white sheet over the body. She shook her head and rubbed her forehead.

"I did everything I could, but his wound was too grave. The bullet went through his stomach. If he hadn't bled out, he would have died of sepsis anyway. I just feel horrible."

The officer flipped his notepad shut and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Can't save them all, Dr. Farragut. You need a ride to your hotel or anything?"

"If it isn't any trouble, that would be very kind of you."

The officer dropped Eva at the Sandalwood Flats motel just outside of town. On the other side of the building, she met Hank and Connor waiting for her in her own vehicle. Getting into the back seat, she settled in and yawned.

"Everything went smoothly for you?"

Both men nodded.

"Good. Let's go home and let Integra know it's done. Tomorrow I'll file the missing persons report."