Chapter 7: Air Evacuation

The next day was hectic, even more than the previous two. Jonas was at the airport at the proper time and saw the aircraft. He had seen several variants of the C-130 while on active duty, but the size of the aircraft still impressed him. A ground crew member instructed him to wait in a secured area with a small group of people, whom he learned were also traveling back to the U.S. They watched litters being carried into the craft as one ambulance after another drove up and was unloaded. Then an Air Force sergeant came over and asked to see their papers; Jonas presented his. The sergeant led the waiting group closer to the craft and then he gestured Jonas forward and summoned a ground crew member, who grabbed Jonas’ duffle bags, tagged them, tore off the tag stubs, and handed them to Jonas.

“Are you traveling with any injured family members, sir? We have a couple ambulatory passengers who are,” the crew member asked.

When Jonas replied that his family members were supposed to be on the flight, the crew member called to a medic at the rear loading ramp.

“Got one here, doc!” Then he turned to Jonas. “Go see him, sir,” and pointed.

Jonas went up the ramp and the medic led him past two rows of litters stacked vertically, each with a person lying in it. Most seemed sedated and several nurses and medics were tending to them. Then they came to a section which had gurneys strapped to one side of the aircraft and seating, which looked similar to passenger airline seats, on the other. All the gurneys were occupied, but the two closest ones held the people Jonas wanted most to see.

“Papa!” Fabienne called to him, holding out her arms, and he went over.

“Hi there, precious,” he greeted her. “This is exciting, right? How’s your head feel?”

“It still aches a little, but the nurse said it would be better soon.”

He squeezed her hand and turned to Cassandra and kissed her.

“How are you doing now?” he asked.

“It feels better each day, I think,” she replied. “But this is terribly uncomfortable.”

A passing crewman—Jonas recalled that his insignia meant he was an Air Force med tech—stopped and looked at Cassandra’s restraints.

“These are a bit tight. I can loosen them, but not too much. Don’t want you sliding down the aisle when we lift off,” he smiled.

Then he looked at Fabienne. “Are your straps okay?”

“Uh huh,” she answered.

He smiled at her. “Is this your first ride on a plane?”

She answered that it was, and so did Cassandra.

“Well, it can be exciting and fun to feel us go up when we take off. In the air it might get a little bumpy but everything’s safe. It’s too bad that this bird has no windows so you can’t see out. Hey, I see they’re buttoning up now, so I need to go. We’ll be flying in the air for a bit over two hours—see you when we’re up!”

He patted Fabienne’s hand and she smiled at him. Then he turned to Jonas.

“Grab a seat over there and strap in, sir,” he said as Jonas heard the engines start and felt the massive plane shudder.

The med tech rushed aft and began checking the racks of litters located there. They took off just a few minutes later. When they were in the air and in level flight, Jonas got up and stood beside Cassandra and Fabienne, talking to them. The med tech stopped by several times during the flight to check on them, but it was an uneventful two hours before someone else on the crew came around again, making sure all was secure for landing. Soon they were on the ground with a little bump and a roar of engines, and they felt the vibration of the craft as it taxied to a parking spot. Jonas unbuckled himself and went over to hold Fabienne’s hand. She was wearing an anxious expression.

“It’s okay, precious. The flight’s over and we’re on the ground. Soon we’ll be outside.”

She nodded and gripped his hand tighter.

Then the med tech stopped by them and told Jonas, “You guys need to wait a bit until we get the more critical patients out, okay, sir?”

Jonas watched as a well-organized team quickly unclamped the litters from the racks, set them on gurneys, and wheeled them out using the aft ramp of the aircraft. Meanwhile, a crew member opened the side ramp of the craft and the flight deck crew came out of the cockpit and walked down the ramp; then the ambulatory passengers followed them out. Finally, several corpsmen wheeled most of the gurneys out and Jonas was left with just his family and a woman who was standing next to a gurney which had a man lying on it. A ground crew member came over.

“Okay, they’re ready for you two accompanieds now,” he said, addressing Jonas and the other woman, and began unlatching the remaining gurneys.

Several additional medical personnel arrived and began rolling the three gurneys back to the cargo ramp and Jonas followed. He was met by a crew member, who examined his baggage tickets and handed over his duffle bags. Jonas noticed that the aircraft had been parked on a wide expanse of concrete and off to the east, he could see a large terminal building with aircraft parked all around it. A number of tractor-trailers were lined up near the 130 and forklift trucks were unloading pallets of shrink-wrapped boxes from them.

I’m glad it’s autumn now and not hot here. It’s much cooler than home, Jonas thought. When I lived here, this time of the year Miami was mid-70s to low-80s. We’re gonna need jackets for the winter; they won’t be used to low 60s.

A white panel van with green crosses on its sides pulled up and its doors opened. It was a medical transport vehicle and Jonas saw that it had space for four gurneys and there were several passenger seats inside too. The vehicle’s driver came over to Jonas as the gurneys were being loaded, motioning to the woman to also come over.

“If they didn’t tell you, this is Miami International, but we’re not going the regular passenger route through Customs and Immigration. You still need to be cleared, so we’re stopping by the general aviation terminal’s FBO office and there’s a Customs agent there to handle the private traffic. The agent will come out to the van, so please have your papers ready. You can board the van now.”

“Ah, what’s FBO? Not that it matters,” Jonas asked.

“Fixed Base Operator. That’s just the name for the outfit that manages the general aviation terminal. All set? Let’s go.”

They drove for a few minutes and then stopped; soon a man in a light grey uniform with a CBP patch boarded. He spoke to the woman and her husband first.

“Passports, please?”

She handed them over and he looked at them, then scanned them with a device he was carrying and nodded.

“Do you have your baggage?”

“No,” she said softly. “All of our luggage was lost in the quake in Haiti. We were lucky to get out of the hotel alive.” She squeezed her husband’s hand.

“Sorry to hear that, ma’am. So you have nothing to declare on your persons? No? Okay, better luck in the future, I hope.”

She nodded and the agent went to Jonas, who handed the agent their black-covered passports.

The agent’s eyebrows went up. “Diplomatic, I see. Baggage?”

Jonas pointed to the duffels and his backpack.

“I don’t need to examine your property but I have to ask if you have anything to declare ... oh, you have a 6059B. May I?”

Jonas handed the Customs document over and remarked, “We’re relocating to the U.S. from Haiti. We lost everything in the earthquake and our only possessions are in those bags. At the embassy I was told we didn’t have to value our personal items.”

The agent nodded, said, “That’s correct,” and then scanned their passports; then he put the 6059B declaration and the scanner into his pouch.

He looked up. “It’s okay; you’re cleared. Welcome to the United States and to Miami, folks,” and then he left.

Jonas was mostly happy but also just a tiny bit disappointed that he didn’t have to use his State Department authorization letter.

Another man poked his head into the van, looked around, and went to Jonas.

“You are Jonas Bernard? I’m FBI Special Agent John Norris from the Miami field office and want to welcome you to Miami.”

He flashed his badge.

He continued, “They’re taking your family and the other two people to the VA hospital and we’ll have someone meet you at admitting to let you know what’ll be happening now. And thank you for your service and congrats on your military honors.”

He shook Jonas’ hand and left the van.

Cassandra looked up at Jonas. “What was that all about?”

“Long story, honey, lots happened in the last few days and I’ll catch you up when it’s quiet and we’re alone.”

Veterans Affairs Hospital, Miami, Florida

After Jonas finished with the admitting routine at the VA hospital, a man and a woman approached him. The man gave him a business card.

“We’re FBI special agents. I’m Andrew Johnson and this is Sarah Wilkins, on special assignment from D.C. The card has my contact number. When you get settled here, call me. Everyone is interested in talking with you—the Justice Department, which we represent, State, DoD, and even the CIA.”

“Why all the attention?” Jonas asked, concerned.

“First, your Medal of Honor, and congrats on that. Then the threats against your family. Your status with the State Department. And the CIA wants more information about the Haiti situation you found yourselves in.”

Jonas nodded and headed for the room where the staff had taken Cassandra. Fabienne was now in Pediatrics and her surgery was scheduled for tomorrow. He checked in with Cassandra first.

“I hate you’re in different rooms now,” he told her. “Maybe there’s a way for you to be together after her operation. I’m gonna go see her now; then I’ll be back.”

When he went to Fabienne’s room, he found that she had a roommate, another ten-year-old girl, and the two of them were talking animatedly. He interrupted them.

“Hi, sweetheart, just checking on you,” he said.

“Hi, Papa, this is Noreen and she has to have neck surgery. I was telling her about the earthquake.”

“Hello, Noreen. I hope you get better quick,” Jonas told her as the two began chattering again, ignoring him.

Figuring that he wasn’t needed, Jonas returned to Cassandra’s room. She was alone in it, and Jonas was happy about that because he had a lot of questions about the almost-dream of the previous night.

“Hi, sweetie. Fabienne’s okay; she’s got a new friend in her room and they’re talking up a storm. How are you doing now?”

“My burns are really starting to itch now,” she commented.

“I think that’s a good sign. The skin must be healing and the nerves are starting to work.”

“Can you tell me what I’ve missed? I think you must have gotten a lot of things done because everything’s happening so quickly.”

Jonas was about to begin when there was a tap at the door frame and a doctor walked in.

“Good,” he said, “they told me that both of you were here now. I’m Doctor Walter Beauford, a neurosurgeon at the Miller Medical School at U-Miami and on the consulting staff here. My friend, Doug Haskins, referred your daughter. I’ve reviewed her chart from the Comfort, and she’s going to our imaging department to get a CT scan right now.

“Here’s what we have, and stop me if you need anything explained. Her EEG from the ship shows a high amplitude activity; that’s unusual but there’s nothing that has an epileptic appearance. It’s an unusually strong activity but it follows the normal profile, so that simply means, most likely, that her brain’s activity is at a higher-than-normal level, but still within the normal range. The tracings show no sign of epilepsy, a tumor, having an ischemic event caused by a blocked vessel, or any other neurological condition, other than the bleeding she experienced under her dura mater, but that blood pocket is quite small now, some blood’s already been absorbed.

“She has what’s called a subdural hematoma, a pocket of blood under the skull, caused by the depressed skull fracture she incurred in the earthquake. She needs surgery to remove the blood there, check to be sure all the blood vessels in the region are intact, and repair the fractured area of her skull. It’s in an area of her brain which controls the left leg, which showed weakness during my exam. The MRI and CT from the ship didn’t show any detached bone fragments but we look for them anyway. It’s about a two-hour procedure using computer-assisted surgery and has little risk, given her current condition, and that she’s alert, not in a lot of pain, responds well to a neurological exam, and is otherwise very healthy.

“Also, I want to look at the blood flow in her brain with fMRI; her elevated mental activity looks intriguing and I’m curious. It will also help me to visualize the blood flow around the injured area. It’s just like a regular MRI but takes a bit longer. I assume you’re okay with my doing that?

“You didn’t stop me so I assume you followed all that?”

Cassandra replied, “My English is not the best, but, yes, I followed you. The doctor on the ship said many of the same things, so nothing was new. Thank you.”

Jonas agreed to the fMRI, and then asked, “So the prognosis is good? And post-surgery treatment?”

“Well, we’re obviously not gods here, but given her condition and the fact that I’ve treated several hundred similar cases, I’d say that she’ll do well. For recovery and afterward, she’ll need to protect her head from bumps while the area heals. We use helmets, but there’s a new lighter weight shield available that’s held in place by a beanie. That’s much more comfortable for the patient, especially a kid. All okay? I’ll talk to you again tomorrow after I see her latest CT and the fMRI that I’ll order.”

He left and then Jonas returned to bringing Cassandra up to date on the events of the past few days.

“First, though,” Jonas said, “I need to tell you what happened last night after I left you. My discovering that Papa Legba was really communicating with you shook me up, but I was even more shaken by what happened later. I was falling asleep when that comforting sensation washed over me again and, in my thoughts, came the words, ‘Tamara’s spirit calls to Emily.’

Cassandra gasped.

Jonas said, “Tamara’s your mom but who’s ‘Emily’? What does that mean?”

Cassandra picked up her talisman and stroked it. “Manman must be communicating to Fabienne through her doll somehow. Fabienne named her doll ‘Emily.’ No wonder Fabienne is so perceptive about some things I didn’t think she’d know about.”

“There’s more,” Jonas went on. “I was wondering about that first thought when this one came: ‘Fabienne must become Tamara.’”

Cassandra clutched the talisman and whispered some Kreyòl to it. “Jonas, we need to change Fabienne’s name! It’s urgent! Vanessa will try to find her using her name because she doesn’t believe we really died!”

Jonas went on, “So that explains the next thought I had. ‘Cassandra becomes Nadine.’ That was my mom’s name—are you to change your name too?”

“Wait,” Cassandra told him. “I know that you must have heard other things too, am I right?”

“Yes. Just before I fell asleep, I had this wonderful peaceful feeling, along with the thought, ‘Tamara is Ayizan Velekete’s.’

Cassandra began crying. “Ayizan is ... was... Manman’s patron. She will be Fabienne’s and Fabienne will be Tamara. Manman’s spirit will watch over her granddaughter. This news is a wonderful gift you bring to us, Jonas. Ayizan is Papa Legba’s consort and is the lwa of the manbo. She offers protective energy to her followers to keep them safe. She is also the guardian of human morality, and she’s chosen Fabienne. This happened without her even being kanzo. I have Manman’s talisman here; it’s the other one from Africa that Henri saved. When we are all together again, I must talk with Fabi ... Tamara about this and her Emily. Emily is sacred now. Jonas, we have to start thinking of our daughter with her new name. It’s important!”

“Okay, I’ll look into seeing how to legally change her name—yours too, and ... mine too? I guess that’s part of our disappearing too. Okay, so lots happened this week so I’ll start from when you got to the ship. Do you remember the ride in the bird?”

“The helicopter? Yes, but I was really groggy then and hurt all over.”

Jonas told her about his reconnecting with Master Chief Bronson, then learning about the Medal of Honor (that brought a gasp), the fate of her Aubry congregation (that brought tears), the funeral arrangements (that brought a nod), saving her artifacts (that brought a smile), and finding Tamara’s books (that brought chuckles). He told her that they’d get to go to Washington to meet the president and that brought an “Oh, my!”

He had to elaborate a fair amount on the Medal of Honor part for her.

Jonas looked at her. “Did they tell you anything about your treatment yet?”

“Just the nurse spoke to me. They want an x-ray to make sure the bone is in place after all the traveling and make sure the cast is proper. They need to change the dressings, be sure there’s no infection and clean any dead skin. In a way, the fallen beam kept the fire away from the broken leg so it escaped from being badly burned.”

“That’s good. I need to arrange a meeting with the FBI people and the others who want to see me. Fab ... Tamara’s surgery is tomorrow, so I’ll tell them I can meet on Monday. And I need to look for an apartment nearby where we can stay during Tamara’s recovery. I’ll do that on Saturday.”