Play@YSDC

Smiling wickedly -- which is probably the only way he can -- the tall doctor displays a small glass vial filled with a yellow-green vapor.

"I suggest you put away that toy," he says to Zara. "This vial is very fragile. If I should happen to drop it, the result would be most unpleasant for everyone. I suggest you back away, all of you, and let me get to the submarine. As for this fool," he adds, indicating the short doctor, "let him do what he likes with his little pet. It is of no interest to me."

Tony backs away, slowly edging towards Lota as he does so.

“Lota, you and I stop bad doctor,” he whispers, nodding towards Faux Manchu. “If we live, you may stay with me.”

Desperate times lead to desperate measures...

"Your guys aren't so on side any more," Zara says. "You might find your sub's left without you."

"She's right, we saw it leave," says Liz. "Why should you throw your own life away just to take us down when there's no escape for you? If you surrender now, you can always escape later. I'm sure you're already thinking of a clever plan."

Having his bluff called, the doctor tosses the vial to the ground, which proves to produce nothing more than colored smoke.

"Well played," he says. "The comedy is over. Now, would you like my help with your little problem," he adds, indicating Lota, "or would you rather just have these gentlemen," nodding to the SEALs, "take me away in irons?"

"Irons sound good to me," Zara says.

“Indeed. I’m minded to see you incarcerated and take my chances with Lota here. Wolves can be domesticated; you, I fear, cannot.”

"I think if the Navy SEALs search him thoroughly and keep an eye on him, we could use his help," says Liz. "He can be handcuffed to one of them to make sure he doesn't go anywhere, not that there's anywhere for him to go."

The SEALs are used to dealing with terrorists and other very dangerous prisoners, so they are able to take control of the doctor efficiently, not the least due to his own rather sardonic co-operation. Weapons ready at all times, in case of any trouble, they attend the two doctors and their patient, as well as the investigators, through the dank, moldering walls of the prison until they reach the old infirmary. It still bears many indications of its former function; medications locked up securely in steel cabinets, several hospital beds, and so forth. Looking much newer is an attached room that serves as a small surgery, with the usual equipment.

"Howsss of paaan," notes Lota, as well as she can.

"You must be brave," states the short doctor.

'I told you your methods were strictly temporary," observes the tall doctor, displaying confidence, despite his current situation. "Nonetheless, we must do what we must." Looking at the investigators, he adds "I don't suppose any of you have any medical experience. This will be awkward enough without Lota's former skill as a nurse, and with myself--" he indicates his bonds with an ironic shrug.

"I'm a scientist," says Liz. "While medicine is not my speciality, I know a bit about everything. I can help."

"I'm sure we can all chip in," says Tony airily. "How hard can it be?"

"Is there any anasthetic here?" Zara asks.

"I was going to be a doctor or a lawyer and since I get faint seeing blood, I decided on law." Lew says. "But I'll try to help however I can."

It is decided that those without previous experience in the fields of science or medicine will be asked to fetch and carry as needed, and will be permitted to withdraw if things become too disturbing. There is a plentiful supply of anesthetic, but of course the process of surgery itself is not without inherent stress.

Bravely putting up with the initiation of the procedure, much like a loyal pet at the veterinarian, Lota allows herself to be placed under sedation. The procedure is not at all typical of the surgeon's art, involving all manner of injections of strange fluids kept within a locked refrigerator. All seems to be going well, at first, but then the carefully monitored vital signs of the patient worsen suddenly.

"There is insufficient anthropomorphic serum," remarks the short doctor, "and there certainly isn't enough time to manufacture more."

"Go to the source," the tall doctor replies, with a certain amount of amusement. "Either of you two ladies wish to make a donation?"

“Assuming you need a female donor, perhaps my old friend Bolowski might also like to volunteer?” ventures Tony.

"A donation of what?" Zara asks. "Blood?"

Lew looks sick and retires from the operating room to get some air.

"I'd gladly donate some blood if that's what was needed," says Liz, "but I doubt that's what they meant. Otherwise, why ask only the ladies? I think they want our eggs." She turns to the doctors. "You know, if you hired female staff, you would have had a ready source. Just how many eggs do you need?"

With a sigh, the taller doctor says "The opportunity for oocyte aspiration has long passed by, unfortunately. No, this is simply a matter of obtaining the correct balance of hormones. A small blood donation will be more than sufficient."

Hearing her name mentioned, Natasha approaches the doctor.

"I can profide you vith the necessary fluid, but I must request a fafor in return. I suggest that our American and British friends release you into the custody of the Sofiet Union, vere the use of your special talents may very vell make up for your, shall ve say, less appreciated actifities."

The doctor seems interested; after all, his only other choice is being detained in a Federal penitentiary.

"Vell," Natasha asks the others, "do ve, as you say, haf a deal?"

The shorter doctor looks worried, and says "I'm not sure how this is going to work out. The introduction of foreign DNA . . ."

“Ah. Perhaps it’s not such a good idea after all,” harrumphs Tony. “If it’s only blood you require then I’m sure one of us will volunteer.”