As I immerse myself in the world of "9-1-1," I consciously strive to detach from the political undercurrents, viewing it as a sanctuary from the relentless tide of real-life turmoils and acknowledging that a drama centered on first responders doesn't owe allegiance to my personal ideologies. Yet, "Sick Day" pushed the boundaries of my comfort zone—a narrative thread about a hypothetical lab leak and a pandemic looming large left me with an uneasy twinge. I harbor no illusion that "9-1-1" endorses any particular theory on COVID's genesis, yet the parallelism was disquieting. My sentiment towards the portrayal of researchers? Less than favorable. Nevertheless, the episode's exhilarating pace ultimately won me over. I'm flawed, admittedly. "9-1-1," however, might just be a masterpiece in its own right. Or perhaps not flawless—my feelings on the previous installment were ambivalent—but it excels in weaving captivating tales.
Our journey begins, much like many gripping sagas, with a bus colliding with a cluster of vehicles. The 118 springs into action, transforming the scene into a rescue operation reminiscent of an episode from "Hotshots." Most occupants escape unscathed, but Ravi, in the hustle of extracting a woman, overlooks a baby in the backseat. Fortunately, Bobby, driven by a daredevil streak, dashes back to rescue the tot, narrowly escaping a colossal explosion before emerging from the smoke, cradling the calmest infant I've ever witnessed. (Indeed, a "Hotshots" moment.) Truth be told, this sequence has minimal impact on the episode's arc, save for a glimpse into Ravi's character development. Over drinks with Buck—delighted that their bond has blossomed into genuine friendship—Ravi confesses his distress over the oversight, contemplating resignation from the 118. Buck, weary of friends departing, urges Ravi to rekindle his firefighting spirit. "You must banish doubt," he urges, "for once it seeps in, it's akin to a virus."
Transitioning to the topic of viruses, we dive into the heart of the action, a scenario amped up only by "9-1-1." Scientists Allen and Roz, clad in intimidating PPE, find themselves in a harrowing lab alongside their despised colleague, Moira. Moira, utilizing her downtime, has accelerated the incubation period of Crimean-Congo hemorrhagic fever (CCHF) to 90 minutes, eager to test an antidote on a lab rat. Roz and Allen are astounded by the antidote's instant efficacy, yet appropriately aghast. Their supervisor, Dr. Francis Banting, shares their horror, emphasizing that Moira has rendered an already perilous pathogen even more deadly. Moira, however, has a compelling argument: adhering to protocols hampers research, while climate change expands the habitats of ticks that carry CCHF. (A chilling truth; read this study if undisturbed sleep is a luxury you seek.) "If we don't adapt as swiftly as our climate evolves, we'll be left behind," she asserts, and I take solace knowing "9-1-1" stands firmly on the side acknowledging climate change's reality.
Regrettably, Moira's sanity is clearly frayed. Upon Banting's dismissal, she returns to the lab, incapacitating Allen and stealing his key card for access. Her activities remain concealed, but Banting's subsequent 9-1-1 call reveals the lab's virology unit, employing tier-four precautions for "lethal and exotic viruses," is ablaze. The 118's arrival ushers in even more harrowing news: the fire ravages the level housing CCHF research. Hen describes CCHF as "Ebola's more virulent kin"—highly contagious and lethal, often leading to death through uncontrollable hemorrhage. Once more, ignorance would have been bliss.
Bobby remains disturbingly nonchalant about his forays into the lab, even resorting to stealing Banting's badge to bypass the stringent security measures of the 118. Once inside, they manage to locate and rescue Allen, who, just before slipping into unconsciousness again, utters Moira's name without any further elaboration. (How unhelpful!) Suddenly, Roz's unexpected appearance startles everyone—she's imprisoned in the cryo room, trapped behind a door fused shut by melted metal and shielded by bulletproof glass. Buck and Chimney must squeeze through a narrow vent to reach her, with Chim whimsically comparing their predicament to scenes from "Die Hard," though to me, it all feels more like a harrowing sequence from "Alien." Once they reach Roz, she wisely refuses to remove her suit, forcing them to disconnect her hose and have her hold her breath as they haul her through the vent to safety. With an isobutane fire now blazing, it's imperative to evacuate. However, Ravi, still haunted by the near-fatal incident involving the baby earlier, is bent on finding and saving Moira, oblivious to the fact that she's no helpless infant but a rogue scientist with a messianic complex. Before anyone can disabuse him of this notion, the isobutane fire ignites into an explosion. A security wall descends, encapsulating Bobby, Chimney, Hen, and Ravi within the lab's lockdown perimeter.
Here's the situation: The explosion might have aerosolized the virus, meaning that opening the door could spell catastrophe for the public. (Buck's momentary lapse into rebellion, shouting, "Screw protocols!" doesn't sit well with me.) Athena's arrival coincides with Banting's explanation that the lab's filtration system needs a day or so to purify the air. Under normal circumstances, this might suffice, but two critical issues arise—Hen, crushed in the blast, now suffers from a collapsed lung requiring immediate medical attention within ten minutes, and Chim's mask was torn off, exposing him to the virus. Enter Colonel John Hartman of the U.S. Army Infectious Diseases, who arrives to facilitate the 118's escape by constructing a highly filtered tunnel. (While the technical specifics are intricate, suffice it to say, I lack the wherewithal to elaborate further.) Hartman estimates a best-case scenario of two hours before Bobby and his team can be extracted.
Hen, unfortunately, does not possess the luxury of two spare hours. Chim, fully prepared to perform an emergency thoracostomy, is about to proceed when Maddie, still connected via communication, alerts everyone that Chim's illness could potentially infect Hen during the delicate procedure. Donning a fragile medical mask, Chim isolates himself and directs Bobby through the placement of the chest tube, with Ravi lending a helping hand. At a crucial juncture, Bobby is compelled to delve his finger into the incision he's made, pushing through the muscle with determination. "Cap, you're going to have to push with all your might," Chimney urges, highlighting yet again that '9-1-1' knows no bounds when it comes to graphic realism. Bobby manages to insert the tube, and Hen's breathing resumes, but Chim's condition is grim. He coughs up blood into his mask, followed by a nosebleed. "Hey, sweetheart, I'm not sure I'll make it home for dinner," he informs Maddie, attempting levity. "I think I caught a little something at the office." If I were ever to bleed from multiple orifices, I can confidently say I wouldn't handle it with such wit.
Outside, Roz inadvertently reveals that Banting has kept a secret from everyone: Moira was engaged in gain-of-function research on the virus and has cultivated a strain of CCHF with a drastically shortened incubation period, far less than the usual three to seven days. The Army halts their rescue attempts, with Hartman explaining that they must let the members of the 118 perish within the confines of the facility. "We have a pandemic brewing in a bottle, and I won't risk uncorking it," he declares. Again, I understand his rationale! Athena and Buck, however, refuse to accept the fate of their friends and loved ones. Fortunately, Roz has more pertinent information to share: Moira has also developed a cure! Hartman cannot authorize the use of the sole dose of antidote on Chimney, fearing that if the virus escapes, they will need it to create a vaccine. (I know I'm not supposed to side with him, but honestly, his logic is sound.) Nonetheless, Chimney's condition is rapidly deteriorating. Despite being threatened with terrorism charges, Ravi boldly opens the freezer in the lab to retrieve the antidote—only to discover it missing. Moira has, of course, absconded with her groundbreaking work, presumably for reasons deeper than mere madness. We'll uncover the truth next week!
