“We have a problem,” Carlos Camacho says as he appears into the closed laboratory.
The woman, who had been bent over a stainless steel examination table, doing something Camacho had long ago learned not to question her about, to an unconscious player laying on said table, stood taller. Her lab coat draped to the ground. Her glimmering emerald eyes caught the faint electrical lighting that came from all corners of the room—which was smallish, and lined with an array of highly sophisticated control boxes and other machinery.
“Don’t send me a frantic message that pulls up a schedule, then barge in on my while I’m doing the work,” the woman says with a scowl that focuses those glistening eyes in ways that makes Camacho uncomfortable.
With her standing taller now, he sees that the player is Aaron Anderson, the reliever the Collins managed to trade before Camacho could intervene. That was going to be problematic, he knew. The good Doctor’s work needed to be done to perfection to avoid scarring that could give away the ghost. So to speak. Anderson’s changeup needed to be adjusted back down to the “5” that has publicly announced in all the team's reading material, or things could get hot. Right now the procedure appeared about half-baked.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “But we do need to talk.”
“What about?”
“Collins is saying he’s considering altering the ballpark.”
The woman steels herself, and Camacho can swear that the Kochersmeltz logo on her breast pocket does a somersault with a twist. “Well,” she said. “That’s unfortunate, then.”
“It’s more than unfortunate.”
She nods and her gaze draws down sharper. “Perhaps we need to give the GM a little visit later tonight.”
Now it is Camacho’s eyes that glimmer. “I do so enjoy those nighttime visits.”
“Don’t be too sure of yourself, Carlos. You’re here because we need you, remember?”
“Indeed,” Camacho says with no little relief. “I’ll leave you to proceed with young Mr. Anderson, here. But after … ?”
The woman sighs and runs uneasy palms down her thighs. “I’ll be in contact.”
“Excellent.”
Then Camacho steps through the wall, leaving the doctor to her change-upectomy, just as he said he would.
