In Death 15 - Purity in Death

Get me eyes in there. For now, get me to a 'link station so I can talk to him. Peabody, assess how many are wounded and in what condition."
    She snagged a 'link, ordered transmission to Feeney's. It beeped, beeped, beeped. And her heart thundered.
    "This is Captain Fucking Halloway." Halloway's face, nearly as white as McNab's, filled the screen. The whites of his eyes were cracked with red lines, and a dribble of blood leaked from his nose. "I'm in charge here!"
    He screamed it, then stepped back so Eve saw him holding his weapon under Feeney's jaw.
    One stream, she thought numb with fear, instant death.
    "This is Lieutenant Dallas."
    "I know who the hell you are. Grandstander. I outrank you now. What the hell do you want?"
    "It's what you want that's at issue, Halloway."
    " Captain Halloway."
    "Captain." Her eyes met Feeney's. A thousand messages passed between them in a split second. "If you'd tell me, sir, what it is you want, what seems to be the problem, we can clear everything up without further violence. You don't want to hurt Captain Feeney. I won't be able to help you get what you want if you hurt Captain Feeney."
    "You need to talk to us, son." Feeney's voice was calm as a lake. "Tell us what the problem is."
    "You're the problem, and I'm not your son. So shut up! Shut up!" He jerked Feeney's head back with his weapon, and broke transmission.
    Every cell in Eve's body screamed to rush the door. Every instinct, every hour of training, ordered her to hold back.
    "Eyes. Get me eyes in there now! I want all available data on Halloway. If he's married, get his wife in here or on a 'link. Get me his mother, his brother, his priest. Whoever he's most likely to listen to. I want all nonessential personnel out of this area. Who in here knows Halloway best?"
    Shocked faces, grim faces, angry faces looked back at her. It was Gates who finally spoke. "I guess we all thought we knew him. This doesn't make sense, Lieutenant."
    "Talk to him." Eve pointed to the 'link. "Keep it calm and friendly. You ask him what he wants, what we can do for him. Don't criticize him. Don't say anything to set him off. Just keep him talking."
    She turned away, moving just out of range and pulled out her communicator. "Commander."
    "On my way." His face might have been carved in granite. "Situation?"
    She relayed it, fast and brief.
    "Negotiator is also on his way. What do you need?"
    "Sharpshooters. I'm getting eyes, but at this point I can't ascertain target area. Feeney usually keeps his shades up, but they might be lowered. Rushing the room or shutting it down is too risky. He'd drop Feeney before we could get to him."
    "I'm two minutes away. Keep him talking. Find out what he wants."
    "Yes, sir." She moved back toward the 'link. Gates tapped manually on the keys of a mini-unit.
    He's not listening to me. Incoherent, scattered. No answers. Looks sick.
    Eve nodded and took over the 'link. "You okay in there, Captain Halloway? Need anything?"
    "I need some respect! I'm not going to be ignored."
    "I'm not ignoring you. You have my full attention. I am having a little trouble concentrating. If you could ease back on your weapon a little so we can talk this out."
    "So you can bust in here?" His laugh was a squeaky wheeze. "I don't think so."
    "No one's coming in there. There's no reason we can't resolve this without more injuries. Feeney, you'll give Halloway your word to remain seated and cooperative, won't you?"
    Feeney understood the message. Stay where you are as long as possible. "Sure. I'll sit right here while we work this out."
    "It's hot in here. It's too goddamn hot in here." As he spoke, Halloway used his free hand to swipe at the blood that trickled out of his nose.
    Seeing it, Eve went cold. "I'll have the climate control adjusted." She gestured off-screen to Gates. "We'll cool it down in there for you. You feeling okay otherwise, Halloway?"
    "No! No, I'm not feeling okay. This son of a bitch has me working until my damn eyes bleed. My head." He grabbed a handful of his own hair, yanked viciously. "My head's killing me. I'm sick. He made me sick."
    "We can get you a medical. Will you let me send a medical in? You don't look well, Halloway. Let me get you some medical assistance."
    "Just leave me alone." When a tear dripped out of his eye, it was tinged with blood. "Leave me alone. I need to think!"
    He broke transmission.
    "Status," Whitney snapped from behind her.
    "He's sick. He's showing the same symptoms demonstrated by