The Victims Game
Part Fourteen - the Game
By Scott J. Welles
scottjwelles@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMERS:  Hi. We've got some legal stuff to wade through before we can jump into things. Mostly the usual prerequisite jazz: ER and all related characters are the property of Warner Bros., ConstantC Productions, and Amblin Entertainment Television, a bunch of really swell, understanding guys who won't sue me if I mention that the aforementioned characters and institutions are being used without their permission, but only for entertainment purposes, and that no form of profit is being made on this work. For the benefit of the content-conscious amongst you, I'll assure you that there's nothing here that you couldn't see on the show, anyway. Except maybe some language, I'm not sure yet. Depends what kind of day I'm having as I write. Beyond that, I make no promises about what's in store. Could be silly, could be scary, could be sexy, could be sad. I'm not telling. Come on, live dangerously...

Be warned, this one's harsh.



John Carter and Kerry Weaver stared at me in astonishment. "What did you say?" she said, archly.

"Oh, excuse me," I said, "I meant I can take the, ah, bad woman down."

"Not that, I mean what are you talking about, Daniel?"

I leaned forward, getting excited. "Lee's been bluffing us," I told them, "I was right the first time, this whole thing has been about the money. They ripped off twenty million of the Foundation's money, through Carol's clinic, and pinned it on her. Then, when I started poking into it, they had to do something to get me off their backs. They needed a story that would scare me off..."

"And that ridiculous 'shadow operation' espionage story was the best she could come up with?" Carter said.

"Don't knock it, it nearly worked. It's a variation on the Big Lie technique."

"The what?"

"If you're gonna lie, you lie big. Tell 'em a whopper that's so outrageous they can't just ignore it. Imagine you're a schoolteacher, and one of your students says the dog ate his homework. You believe him?"

"Not likely."

"Okay, now what if he tells you he couldn't do his homework because his abusive, drunken father made him work all evening in the sweatshop to raise money to support his mother's heroin habit? You believe that?"

"I wouldn't want to...but I also wouldn't dare dismiss it out of hand."

"See?"

"Wait, wait," Kerry broke in, "what's this about taking her down?"

I said, "I was all set to pack up and go home, when I thought she had the equivalent of the CIA behind her. But now I know it's just her and a couple of flunkies, I can put things on a more even footing." The latest revelation about Amanda Lee's identity had begun crystallizing things in my head. I had wondered why it had been so easy - relatively speaking - for Kerry and me to escape from captivity, and why 'Joan' had chosen to break 'cover' and speak to me that night, instead of keeping me in the dark. But based on what Carter and Kerry had told me about Amanda Lee, this sounded right up her alley. All done with smoke and mirrors...

"You're thinking of going after her, aren't you?" Kerry asked me, astonished, "I don't believe you, Daniel, you just don't know when to leave things alone, do you?"

"I don't exactly know what I'm thinking," I said, thinking a little more calmly, "but at least now I've got some room to maneuver. Maybe I can help minimize the consequences to the staff...I'm going to County," I added, jumping to my feet.

Kerry sat her mug down and got up. "Daniel, I don't want you going off half-cocked about this," she said, "Things are at a very critical juncture right now..."

"I know, Kerry, believe me," I assured her, "I just want to talk to Mark and Romano, see if I can take the heat off Carol Hathaway, and maybe off you. That's all." I was nearly out the door as I spoke.

"Hang on, I'll drive you," Carter said, rising, "I'm on in a couple hours."

Kerry didn't say anything as we left, but she had a look of disappointment on her face. One more thing out of her control, I realized.

On the drive, Carter asked me, "Danny, you really think there's any way to locate Amanda Lee?"

"That's what I do for a living, John," I told him, "It's possible to find someone who doesn't want to be found, but it's not easy."

"You're telling me," he muttered, absently rubbing his shoulder. "So how would you go about it?"

"Riddle me this, Boy Wonder: impostors like Amanda Lee tend to operate on their own, by nature, right? So who are those two 'Pulp Fiction' types she's got working for her? It's not like she can run down to the local Thugs-R-Us and hire herself a goon squad like Catwoman or Dr. Octopus always seem to have on hand." I remembered Steve Wasserstein saying that his employees were all ex-law enforcement. Buzz Cut and Broken Nose had looked too young for retired cops, which could mean that they quit early, or that they were fired. That, in turn, raised a whole host of possibilities... "Anyway, that's one loose end I could track her down through."

"What about Walter Montgomery?" he asked me, "He's worked for my family for years. I'm having a hard time imagining him going along with a scheme like this."

"I'm not sure yet, about him," I admitted, "There's still a lot of pieces missing from the puzzle. For that matter, we don't even know for certain that it's really Amanda Lee I met."

"Then why are you so fired up about this?"

I shrugged. "Gut instinct," I said, "Sometimes when there isn't enough hard evidence to go on, it's the only thing you can trust. You've probably had the same thing with diagnosing patients or whatever, right?"

He nodded. "Sometimes, yeah..."

We were quiet until we reached the hospital, but I could feel the energy building in me, and I knew I was on the right track. I was certain of it, deep down in that same place where I was certain of the air I breathed and the gravity that held me down. I could always tell when I was onto something at times like this, because I seemed to have Spencer Davis' "Gimme Some Lovin' " playing in the back of my head. The one with Steve Winwood doing the killer, wailing organ.

Jerry Markovic was at the front desk when we came in, but I didn't stop to talk to him. He said, "Danny, wait, there's a-"

"Later, Jerry," I said, blowing past him. I went into the main hallway, looking for Mark Greene, and spotted him through the window of one of the Trauma rooms. I was going to charge in and talk to him, but a nurse named Haleh Adams suddenly blocked my way. She was heavyset and maternal in a way that brooked no guff. If she told her kids to eat their veggies, then they would, by God, eat up.

She said, "Whoa, Danny, you can't go in there."

"Look, I've got to talk to Mark, it's urgent."

"Uh-huh. Is it more urgent than deep lacerations, blunt force trauma and second-degree burns?"

I had a clever comeback ready for her, but it stalled when she asked me the question. "No, I guess not," I admitted.

"Then you'll have to wait until he's finished with those," Haleh said, steering me away from the Trauma room. I didn't waste time arguing. Carter excused himself and went to check in at the desk.

It was another twenty minutes before a patient was wheeled out of the room, towards the elevators, accompanied by the usual retinue. Among the doctors was that surgical resident - Benton, I now remembered his name - and the Englishwoman I had seen a week ago. Mark followed them out of the room, but didn't accompany the rest. I stood up from my bench and flagged his attention.

Mark didn't look happy to see me. "Danny, this isn't a good day for more bad news," he said, as he escorted me into a small room, a combination locker room and lounge. He looked like he hadn't slept in a while.

I told Mark everything that had happened since the last time I saw him, and he listened with the kind of polite impatience that you get when someone raves about a movie they've just seen, and you're just not following them. When I told him about 'Joan' claiming to be a government agent, he pinched the bridge of his nose and said, "Oh, man, not this again. What did the two guys with her look like?" I described Buzz Cut and Broken Nose, and he said, "Hmm, not the same pair... Never mind, then. Go on."

Then I gave him the punch line. I told him who I thought Joan really was.

He didn't say anything for a while, just kept looking at me with the same expression. I was about to ask him if he'd heard me, when he closed his eyes, dropped his chin to his chest, and said, "Why me, Lord?"

I poured him a cup of coffee from a nearby pot.

He took it, adding, "Just one year without this kind of baloney, that's all I ask..."

The door to the lounge suddenly opened, and Kerry Weaver entered, a little out of breath. She wore a soft black overcoat and had put on a little makeup and she looked ready for life again. "There you are," she said, irritably.

I looked at Kerry, then at Mark, and did the Groucho voice. "We've got to stop meeting like this. People will talk."

"You know, I've got a bone to pick with you and Carter, taking my car like that. I had to take the 'El'."

"You're right, I'm sorry about that," I said, "I was just bringing Mark up to speed on what we've learned."

"What, you couldn't use the phone?"

"And miss the look on his face? Are you kidding?"

"Okay, so what do you want me to do?" Mark interjected.

I spread my hands. "I don't know, talk to the Board of Directors, or something! Get them to reconsider firing Kerry and Carol. Tell 'em there's a good possibility that the whole scandal's been faked..."

"Yeah, but the clinic funds are still missing. How do we account for that?"

"Amanda Lee could have altered the records and transferred them. She used to be in a position of authority around here, right?"

Kerry said, "Daniel, she'd need access to the computer system to do that. The password she used as ER Chief was changed when she left. It's routinely changed every time someone new takes over the position. My old password isn't valid anymore, for instance, and only Romano has the current one."

I said, "There are probably ways around that. If Lee could fake the kind of references and credentials needed to get the job in the first place, you think a little thing like a computer password's gonna stop her?"

"Wait a minute," Mark put in, "I can't go to the Board with a story like this. There's no proof, or evidence, or anything. You can't even positively identify the woman you saw as Amanda Lee. They'll never listen to it."

"At least it raises some reasonable doubt-"

"Danny, this isn't a court of law! The Board's at liberty to fire anyone, on adequate suspicion. If Carol were here to defend herself, we might have a chance, but we still have no idea where she is. That kind of unexplained absence just makes her look guilty."

"He's right, Daniel, we don't have a leg to stand on," Kerry told me, "We appreciate what you're trying to do, but right now, wild stories about Amanda Lee are just going to make us look worse." She corrected herself, "I should say, make Mark and the ER look worse. Sorry, Mark, I keep forgetting I don't work here anymore."

"That's okay, I wish you still did," he replied.

"All right, so what do you two suggest we do about this?" I said.

They looked at each other, then at me. They didn't have an answer.

For the first time, I felt a twinge of anger towards them both. Fatalism does that to me. I said, "Okay, you need proof? I'll get it for you. I'm going to find Amanda Lee."

Kerry's eyes widened. "What...? No! Daniel, I told you, I don't want you doing anything foolish! Amanda Lee knows too much about us, what if she does something even worse than she already has? Please, just let it drop."

"Kerry, are you forgetting she nearly had us both killed? I'm not letting her get away with that."

"No, she didn't! Daniel, if she wanted to kill us, we'd be dead now. You wouldn't have woken up in the car after she injected you. She could have given you a drug overdose, or an embolism, or just stopped your heart, and no one would be the wiser. She could have had us dumped in the river, instead of taking us into the countryside. She went out of her way to leave us alive!"

I was about to point out that one person had already died, but Kerry's point made me hesitate. Steve Wasserstein's death didn't fit with the whole 'government conspiracy' bit. It's hard to make a bullet in the brain look like anything but what it is. It was lacking the subtlety of the rest of Lee's scheme. He had complained of chest pains in the past, why not use that as a cover for his murder?

I couldn't think about that aspect now. I said, "Look, she used me to ruin your reputation and Hathaway's and I'm not letting her get away with it! You do what you want, Kerry, but I'm going after her."

I turned toward the door of the lounge, but she stopped me. In a surprising show of strength, she braced her crutch and shoved me against the wall with her other hand. She yelled, "Goddammit, Doug, I said no, and I meant it!! I won't let you do this to us again!"

There was a shocked silence.

Kerry lowered her voice and continued, more steadily, "There is too much at stake right now for you to go chasing after her on some personal vendetta and make things even worse than you already have. Do you understand that, Daniel? That this is not all about you?"

We were quiet for a moment, staring at each other. Mark was staring at Kerry, as well.

"Who's Doug?" I said.

"What?"

"You called me Doug just now. Who's..." A memory flickered. "Doug Ross? Is that the name I keep hearing?"

Kerry had paled, and she had the horrified expression of someone who's just cried out the wrong lover's name at an inappropriate moment. "Oh, my..." she said, quietly. Then, "Excuse me, please..." And she walked out.

There was a distinctly uncomfortable silence in her wake. Mark looked embarrassed, and I imagined he had witnessed plenty of ugly scenes in his career. After a bit, he said, "She, ah, had a few discussions like this with Doug Ross, one of our former doctors..."

"Yeah, I've heard a little about him," I said. Although this Ross guy had been gone since before I met these people, the impression he had left upon them was indelible and undeniable. I had never met him or even seen a picture of what he looked like, and yet I found myself not liking him. I realized I didn't like being compared to him, either. I said to Mark, "Did you know him well?" Just to make conversation.

"He was my best friend in the world," he said, "but he and Kerry just couldn't get past their differences..."

"A couple people have told me I look like him," I added.

Mark looked carefully at me. "Hmm, I don't see it, myself."

A while later, I found Kerry outside the ER's front doors, standing by herself in the evening air. The sun was setting, turning the sky an assortment of fiery colors. When she saw me, she said, "I apologize, Daniel, I shouldn't have spoken to you like that."

I nodded.

"It seems I have a few unresolved issues with Dr. Ross. I'm sorry, you shouldn't have to bear the brunt of it..."

"Did you have a thing for him?"

She looked at me sharply. "What...?"

I said, "It's not the first time you've compared me to him. And you said you couldn't think straight about me. Is that because I push the same buttons in you he did?"

"A thing...for Doug Ross...?"

"Yeah. I know you two argued a lot. Was there maybe some feeling under all that?" I wanted to know if that was why we had made love, but I couldn't just come out and say so.

She looked at me for a few moments longer, stunned, then turned away and stared off to the horizon. "Yes, I loved him," she said at last, "Secretly, madly, passionately. With an intensity that completely overwhelmed me. Through all the years we worked alongside each other, no one could have suspected the deep longing harbored within me, a heartfelt yearning that could never be publicly acknowledged, yet would not be denied. A grand, irresistible passion the likes of which the world has never seen..." She seemed prepared to keep this up indefinitely.

I said, "Okay, Lucci, I get it. Sarcasm."

She turned and swatted me. Hard. "NO, you jerk, I did not have a 'THING' for him! I can't believe you asked me that!"

"Okay, sorry..."

"What's the matter with you? Can't a man and woman have ethical or philosophical differences without secretly lusting after each other? Jeez!"

"All right, I said I'm sorry!"

She turned serious. "Daniel, you have many similar qualities, both good and bad, but I promise you, what happened between you and me had nothing to do with Doug Ross, or anyone else."

I felt really petty for asking.

"But my point remains. I want you to forget about Amanda Lee and all this and just let things lie."

"I can't do that," I said.

"Why not?"

"It's against everything I believe in," I said, deliberately mirroring her words. "Kerry, I told you I was thinking about quitting my job, because I'd lost sight of why I do it. Well, this is why. Not for people like Councilman Bob and his wife, for people like you and Mark and John and the others. I do this because the world needs people like you to help them. Well, today, you need someone like me, to handle the problems like this one. I act as a counter to people like Amanda Lee and Lonnie Bledsoe, so you can go on helping people without being derailed by some psycho. I'm doing this because that's what I do. And I'm doing this for you."

Kerry Weaver listened politely to my explanation. Then she shook her head once and said, "Bullshit."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"That's the prettiest speech I've heard all year, Daniel, but it's bullshit. You really think you're doing this for us? For me? Uh-uh. The only cause you're really working for is your own ego."

I stared at her, speechless.

"Everything you do is ultimately egocentric, Daniel. You've built your life around subtle self-aggrandizement."

I said, "Jesus, Kerry, where do you get off telling me something like that? You don't know what-"

"Why did you leave the Air Force?"

"Why did-? I served a four-year hitch, then decided not to re-up. What's that got to do with...?"

"Why did you try to become an actor, and then a private detective, rather than a policeman or a paramedic or something like that?"

"Kerry, what are you getting at?"

"Look at the choices you've made, Daniel. You avoided anything that might compromise your independence. I know you work for Richard, but he leaves you alone and lets you do whatever you want. You won't even expand your agency, because then the spotlight wouldn't be entirely on you. You can't stand to be a part of something larger than yourself, can you? What you want, more than anything, is to be the Hero, and now she's given you exactly what you want, an adventure, complete with a villain to best. She's thrown down the gauntlet, and you can't wait to pick it up and prove to her and everyone else that you can play the game better than she can."

"What...what game? What are you talking about?"

"This whole cops-and-robbers, cat-and-mouse game. The one you both live for. You don't think I saw the light in your eyes when you imagined taking her on? You're just like Amanda Lee, Daniel, you both live in a world that's not exciting or glamorous enough for you, so you compensate by making it more and more violent, and it's always at someone else's expense."

"It's not that simple," I began.

"Yes, it's exactly that simple. She's one-upped you, and you can't rest until you've gotten the last word. The two of you, you're like the gang kids shooting each other, and anyone else in their way, over drug turf. Or the world superpowers stockpiling nuclear arms until we all get blown up. You just don't know when to stop." There was no anger or venom in Kerry's face or voice as she said these things, and I realized it hurt her as much to say them as it did me to hear them.

I didn't know what I was supposed to say to something like this. Dammit, I knew it wasn't that simple.

"Working here, the one immutable truth you learn is that there aren't any heroes or villains, Daniel, only victims. We're all victims, sooner or later. It's just a question of when, and how much. This time, it was my turn, and Carol's, and partly yours too. If you go out looking to even the score, all you'll accomplish is to victimize more people. What we try to do here, our reason for being, is to reduce the level of victimization as much as possible, not cause any more of it. That's all that we're about. Do you understand that? If you want to help us, then please just back off. Just stop."

I had to pause for a moment before I could find my voice. When I did, I said exactly the wrong thing.

"You've got a helluva lot of nerve talking to me about false motivations, Kerry," I said, "Let's talk about you for a second. Ms. Overachieving Control Freak. You want to ask why you keep trying to manage everything around you? Why you kept trying to be ER Chief or whatever, after it was clear they wanted someone else? Is that maybe to make up in professional terms for the strength you're afraid you're lacking in other areas?"

She looked at me, without visible reaction.

"What, is it because you're a woman? Because you're short, with a thin voice? Because you're crippled?" Yes, I used the word deliberately. "Or is it maybe, I don't know, because you're adopted? You're afraid you weren't good enough for Mommy and Daddy, so you'll show the world you're good enough now? Jesus Christ, Kerry, you're about the most textbook case of chronic overcompensation I've ever seen, and you're talking to ME about ego?!"

To this day, I do not know what in God's name possessed me to say all that to her. It was the most deliberately cruel, hurtful thing I had said to anyone since I was ten years old.

Kerry Weaver didn't react the way I would have expected. There was no anger, and no surprise. Just a deep sadness. I was trying to think of a way to take it all back, when she said, "Do you think I haven't heard all that before, Daniel? Do you think I haven't asked myself the same things every time I look in a mirror? I know what I am, and I know what drives me. I don't have any illusions about myself, but I try to channel it as positively as I can. That's all I ask of anyone."

Her words were all the more effective for their quiet tone.

"What's so sad to me is that you can't see yourself clearly enough to grow out of this. Doug Ross was like that, too, and so was Glory Rossili. You remember her? I knew them both for years, and I couldn't convince either of them to grow up, until it was too late. Well, I'm not going to make the same mistake, trying it with you. I have enough responsibilities as it is." Her voice had turned formal. "Now, obviously, Daniel, I can't tell you what to do. But if you choose to pursue this matter any more, then I want nothing more to do with you, ever. Do you understand?"

I said nothing, and we stared at each other, the battle lines drawn. Then she turned and went inside.

I should have gone after her. I should have apologized and said that I had no right saying what I did to her. I should have told her that she was right about me.

I didn't.



"I don't know how to thank you guys!"
--- Fozzie Bear, 'The Muppet Movie'
"I don't know WHY to thank you guys..."
--- Kermit the Frog, Ibid