Scarcity (Jack Randall #3) (9 page)

They rose silently and were led away. The others waiting all watched with stoic faces, as if they were being led to their own deaths. The fear gripping their hearts tightened as they were placed in a small private room by the volunteer. It was a room where one received bad news and Rita gripped her husband’s arm as they sat on the cheap couch.

A polite knock preceded the arrival of the doctor. Rita’s first thought was that he was too young, barely thirty years old, until she saw his eyes. They revealed an age beyond his physical years. He looked tired, both mentally and physically. The scrubs were sweat stained, and the booties he wore on his feet over the tennis shoes revealed blood stains. He crossed the room and offered a hand and a smile. Her heart leaped at that. Her mind screamed for information, while her heart dreaded what news this man was about to bring.

“Mr. and Mrs. Lamar? I’m David Balzano. My team and I have been working on your daughter.”

She’s alive! She felt the fear that gripped her lessen slightly. She forced herself to wait while the man fell into the chair across from them.

“Your daughter is alive, but her injuries are quite extensive. She was brought into our trauma unit by helicopter and we quickly moved her to emergency surgery due to her injuries. She was unconscious at the scene, and we’ve determined that to be from a head injury. The CT scan showed a concussion with only minor injury to the skull, a nasty cut and some bruising. We ran a complete head injury protocol on her and found nothing to be overly concerned about. We don’t feel that the injury is a danger at this time.”

He paused as he tried to stifle a yawn and they waited again.

“I’m sorry. Both of her legs are broken.” His hands became animated and pointed out the areas he was describing on his own body. “The right leg has a mid-shaft femur fracture that will require surgery at a later date to set. The left leg has both the tib and fibular bones fractured. Both legs are immobilized and we also feel they will heal just fine.”

The doctor paused to take a deep breath. He removed his skull cap and used it to wipe his hands. They braced themselves for the worst news.

“The medics at the scene estimate she was traveling over thirty miles per hour when she hit the truck. Evidently it was parked up on the curb and the car wedged itself under it for a few feet. As a result, the airbag did not deploy in time, and your daughter was thrown forward into the steering wheel. She wasn’t wearing her seatbelt, and without the restraint, she suffered major chest trauma.”

Rita let out a sob at the news and her husband gripped her hand tighter.

“All of the ribs on the right side are fractured as well as five on the left. It’s what we call a flailed chest. She suffered extensive internal bleeding, a punctured lung, and a ruptured spleen. She coded shortly after arrival due to blood loss, but we were able to replace it and restart her heart. She can’t breathe on her own, so she’s currently intubated and on a ventilator. We removed the spleen and stopped all of the internal hemorrhaging, but what worries me now is her heart.”

“Her heart?”

“Yes. She suffered what we call a myocardial contusion, essentially a hard blunt impact to the heart, and it’s now severely bruised. Like any muscle that suffers such a blow, it swells. Right now it’s functioning enough to keep her alive, but the injury is severe. The swelling may interfere with the normal beating of her heart, as well as its chemistry while her body works to repair the damage.”

“How bad is that?” the senator asked.

“It can cause heart attacks or dysrhythmias if the muscle is damaged enough. It can also lead to bleeding into the pericardium, the sac surrounding the heart, which would have to be drained as the blood would place pressure on the heart, as well. She’ll be closely monitored around the clock. If she starts showing signs of heart failure, the only option may be a transplant. Let’s just hope it doesn’t progress to that. On the plus side, she’s young. Kids have a miraculous healing ability. One of my teachers used to say if the pieces are all in the same room, you still have a chance, and he’s right. We’ll know more in the next twelve hours or so. Until then, we wait.”

“Can we see her?”

The doctor shook his head. “Not right now. She’s in the recovery unit and we keep it as sterile as the operating rooms. Once we move her out of there and into the ICU you’ll be able to visit for short periods. There’ll be a strict protocol for you to follow to keep her safe from infection. My nurses will walk you through it.”

Dr. Balzano looked them over as they absorbed the news. The father looked like he was okay, but the mother was barely keeping herself together. He decided he’d put in a call to Susan, the hospital’s grief counselor, and have her pay them a visit.

“Folks, I know what you’re going through. Nobody is ready for a day like today and I know I’ve painted a pretty bleak picture here, but I want you to know that your daughter is getting the best care there is. This hospital pioneered trauma medicine decades ago, and it’s still the leader today. She’s getting the benefit and experience of all those years.”

The senator and his wife perked up only slightly at that. He managed a nod.

“I’m sharing care of your daughter with Dr. Fong. He’s one of our cardiac surgeons and very experienced. He’s also a good friend. He’ll be contacting you shortly.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

“Okay, well I’m going to go check on her progress. Someone will be here soon to get some information from you and set up some contact numbers so we can stay in touch. We offer a website that you can use to give out information to those you give a password to. We find it helps keep family informed without you having to spend all your time on the phone.”

“Can you get some security to keep the press away?”

The question caught Dr. Balzano off guard.

“I’m sorry?”

Out of habit, the senator stuck out his hand. “I’m Senator Remington Lamar of Maryland.”

Dr. Balzano shook the hand automatically.

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t have time to read your daughter’s file, and I just didn’t recognize you.”

The senator waved it away as irrelevant.

“I’ll notify security to keep an eye out.”

“Thank you.”

Rita’s self control finally ended and she broke down crying. The doctor left them alone in the room and walked down the hall toward the recovery unit. His fist tightened on the surgical cap in his hand.

A senator’s daughter? Add that to the drug kingpin upstairs and this place was becoming a real zoo.

He changed directions and found his way to his office. He needed to unwind a little. The five hours of surgery had put a crick in his neck and he wanted some time in his chair. As he passed through the outer office he was surprised to see Janice still there. She gave him her questioning look as he walked past.

“Can you call security and have someone keep the reporters away from the senator and his wife, please? We’ll need someone outside the ICU also. I just need my chair for twenty minutes.”

She didn’t bother answering. She had been there long before him and knew each doctor’s routines. She had already picked up the phone by the time he closed his door.

He ignored the clutter that dominated his office and pulled some files from his chair and tossed them on the floor next to his Box. The chair had heat and massage, and he’d had it delivered on his first day to everyone’s amusement. Soon they were envious and a few more just like it could be found throughout the building. After arranging himself and turning it on, he felt the stress beginning to subside.

While his body relaxed, his brain was not in the mood. He found himself looking at the Box on the floor. He liked to keep the things he pulled from peoples’ bodies—he used them when he taught classes to young surgeons. Mostly metal, they ran the gamut from lawnmower blades to street signs. There were a couple of arrows. A piece of fence. A carabineer. A fork. A prop from an RC plane. Some rebar. An axe handle. They all had their own unique story of how they got to be inside a living human, and how he had gotten them back out.

Today was different. Nothing had penetrated the girl’s body today, yet the damage was just as severe. The patient would take some close watching from both him and Dr. Fong, if she was going to make it. He forced the thoughts from his mind and leaned the chair farther back. He needed twenty minutes of rest before he went back to the ICU. He made sure his pager was on his chest before he allowed himself to fade out.

Reputed Columbian drug cartel leader
is ordered detained by judge in N.J.
The Associated Press Wednesday, February 03, 2010
 

—SIX—

A
nita’s parents followed the detective through the madhouse that was the headquarters of the Mexican AFI. Despite the many ceiling fans hanging over them, the air was thick and humid with the smoke of multiple burning cigarettes. Dressed in a cheap suit, and already stripped of his tie and jacket, the detective wove through the crowd with a practiced ease until he arrived at his desk. Here he stole some battered chairs from his neighbors and offered them to the harried couple. Rounding the desk, he fell into his own ancient chair and let it fall back to the limit of its capabilities. The chair complained with a loud squeak that they barely heard over the multiple conversations and ringing phones echoing in the large room.

“You say your daughter has been kidnapped? How do you know this? Are you sure she’s not off somewhere with a young man, perhaps?”

The father felt his blood pressure rise, but fought to keep his cool.

“I know my daughter. She’s not one to take off on her own, and there was no boy in her life. Her friends tell us there was no one she was seeing. They say she left them at a café in the mall and went to the car and never came back. A man saw her get pulled into a van. We’ve been calling for two days and no one has bothered to come by. The police haven’t even questioned the witness. What the hell are you people doing?”

“I am . . . not surprised.”

“You’re not . . . what the hell?”

“Mr. Perez. I can tell you this, you are far from being alone in this situation. Across Central and South America kidnappings happen by the thousands every year, over five thousand in Mexico alone last year. If this was Columbia it could be for propaganda, or to fund terrorist purposes. Maybe they wish to have one of their own released from prison? You are not a politician but a businessman, so I am comfortable telling you that your daughter was taken for one thing only. Money. This is nothing but a business deal for them, and one that has become very profitable. That is good news, as they’ll be reluctant to kill her. She is worth nothing to them dead.”

“So how do we get her back? Who do we talk to here?”

“Here? You are talking to me now, yes? As for what we can do for you, I’m afraid there is very little.”

“Very little? You could have people out looking for her!”

“That is what you don’t want anyone doing. If we were to somehow stumble onto where they were hiding her, they would most likely kill her before any rescue could happen. No, you don’t want that.”

“The army?”

The detective smiled at the man’s ignorance.

“The army is rather busy fighting the narcos. They have no time for one girl. And if they did, they would go in with guns blazing. Your daughter would not survive. Besides, most kidnappers are tied to the cartels. It is sort of a side business for them.”

“Why haven’t they called?”

“Most likely they are still on the move. They’re asking her questions to get a better idea of how much money you are worth. When they’re ready, you’ll get a call, and when it comes, you need to be ready.”

“I don’t understand. How can we be ready? You’ve told us nothing, and you say you can’t help us. How’re we supposed to be ready?”

The detective let his chair fall forward and opened the top drawer of his desk. It was as cluttered as its surface and he rooted around until he found a stack of business cards wrapped in a rubber band. He rolled it onto his wrist before fanning them out in his hand. After a quick search, he pulled one from the pile and offered it to the father.

“What is this?”

“His name is Luis. He’s a negotiator. I’ve worked with him before and he’s very good. Call him, he’ll tell you what you need to do. If he needs my help, tell him to call me and I’ll do what I can.”

“That’s it? That’s all you can do?”

“Look around you, Mr. Perez. Do we not look busy enough for you? Call the man. He can help you more than I.”

Accepting the fact that they would get no further help here, the couple rose and with a look of disdain, the man took the card before leading his wife away through the crowd. Once they were lost in the confusion, the detective reached for his phone.

“Yes?”

“The parents just left. I gave them the card and the usual story. I would expect a call very soon.”

“Good.”

“They’re worth more than the last one. I can expect my share to increase?”

“You’ll get what we agreed on and no more. Send the medic to the house tonight. Tell them we need the full package.”