Chapter 4

The next morning, Chloe confronted Ethan as he was leaving the command tent. The antivenom had worked, but her leg was swollen and ached with every step.

"We need to talk," she said, her voice tight.

"I have nothing to say to you," he replied, not meeting her eyes. "I need to check on Sarah. She was in shock all night."

"She was in shock?" Chloe' s voice rose, incredulous. "Ethan, a venomous snake bit me because you were so focused on her you didn't see anything else! And you blame me for her 'accident'?"

He flinched but didn't back down. "Sarah would never hurt anyone. You were antagonizing her."

The argument was cut short by a soldier running towards them. "Captain! It's Sarah Jenkins! She's having some kind of panic attack!"

Ethan went pale. He broke into a run towards Sarah' s tent, with Chloe limping behind him. He burst in to find Sarah thrashing on her cot, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"The pain..." she moaned, clutching her head. "I can't... I can't breathe..."

It was a classic, if overly dramatic, PTSD episode. Ethan' s own face went slack with a familiar terror. Seeing her like this was triggering his own demons. He fumbled in his pocket for his emergency medication, a powerful sedative.

Just as he was about to administer it, Sarah' s eyes flew open. She looked at the syringe in his hand and her eyes widened in fake horror.

"No!" she screamed, pointing a trembling finger at Chloe, who was standing in the doorway. "She gave you that! It's not right! I saw her talking to the medics... she's trying to poison you!"

The accusation was insane, but in Ethan's fragile state, it was a spark on dry tinder. His mind, already teetering on the edge, snapped. The love and concern on his face twisted into dark suspicion. He looked from Sarah' s terrified expression to Chloe' s stunned one.

He believed Sarah.

He moved with terrifying speed. He grabbed Chloe, dragging her out of the tent and towards a deserted storage shed. He was strong, his grip merciless.

"Ethan, what are you doing?" she cried, struggling against him.

He didn't answer. He threw her inside the dark shed, the door slamming shut behind them. He used a coil of rope to tie her hands tightly to a support beam.

"Who are you?" he snarled, his face inches from hers, his breath hot and ragged. He held up the sedative. "Who sent you? Are you a spy? Are you trying to poison me so you can get to the unit's intel?"

Chloe stared at him, horrified. This wasn't just a PTSD episode. This was a complete psychotic break, fueled by Sarah' s poison.

Suddenly, the shed door was yanked open. Director Thompson stood there, flanked by two military policemen.

"Captain Miller, stand down!" Thompson's voice was a whip crack of authority.

Ethan froze, blinking as if coming out of a trance.

"Sir?"

"Release her. Now," Thompson commanded. "This is Dr. Chloe Davis. She is a therapist who has been assigned to this unit-and specifically to you-for two years. She is under my direct authority. You have just assaulted a civilian consultant."

The words slowly penetrated Ethan's paranoid haze. He stared at Chloe, at her pale face and the raw, red marks on her wrists. The fury in his eyes slowly gave way to dawning horror and confusion.

Chloe was taken to the hospital, this time for real. Her leg was in agony, her wrists were chafed raw, and the psychological shock was setting in. She lay in the sterile white bed, feeling utterly numb.

Later that evening, the door to her room opened. Sarah Jenkins stood there, her face a mask of remorse. Ethan was right behind her, looking lost and guilty.

"Chloe, I am so, so sorry," Sarah whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "I don't know what I was saying. I was just so scared."

She took a step forward and then, dramatically, made to kneel on the floor.

"Please, forgive me. If you're angry, punish me. Don't be mad at Ethan. It was all my fault."

It was a perfect performance, designed to make Chloe look cruel and unforgiving if she didn't immediately accept the apology. It was designed for an audience of one: Ethan.