Chapter 8

The phone continued to ring even though Cassie thought she had answered it. She drifted upwards through layers of sleep and slapped the snooze button on the alarm clock. When that failed to alleviate the annoying noise, she popped out of the sea of slumber to realize that her phone was indeed ringing. She reached for it. 'Who the hell is calling at 4:30 in the morning?'

"Hello?" The word flowed like sludge from her mouth.

"Quick, get dressed. Meet me at the hospital."

"Who is this?"

"Bret. C'mon, breaking story. I heard it over the police band. An attack on those rescue flyboys sending them to the hospital. C'mon, c'mon, we got interviews to do."

"Which hospital?"

When the only answer she received was the dial tone, she just shook her head and hung up. "I'll call back after I get a cup of coffee and a shower."

The small town hospital had one helipad which was needed for emergencies, so Virgil radioed in and asked where he could 'park' the two choppers. An empty meadow to the north of the hospital and a ball field to the east were available. Virgil took the ball field careful to avoid landing on the diamond. John grabbed the meadow.

Virgil set the chopper down with room to spare, and noticed a police cruiser waiting by the baseline. He got out and walked around to the passenger side, hesitating in front just a moment to look at the bullet hole in the nose. When he got to the other side, Virgil helped his partner off with his safety harness and helmet. He was grateful the cop showed up as a taxi since Jack seemed to be fading a little. He recognized the state trooper as his friend. "Hey, BJ. Thanks for the limo service."

"No problem, Virgil. How are you holding up, Jack?" The officer reached out to shake Virgil's extended hand.

"I was doing fine until this Yoyo made me do some fancy flying with a broken wing."

They eased Jack into the back of the cruiser and Virgil hopped in the front seat with BJ. The interrogation started right up, "What can you tell me of this guy, Virg?"

"Nothing, BJ, absolutely nothing. We had a thermal image of a human standing, and when we approached, he fired on us. In fact, for all I know it could have been a woman. And assuming it was the same guy who shot at us the second time, he was driving a Jeep Wrangler with the top off. Between the dark and a blinding spotlight, I couldn't describe a blessed detail. Did you speak to Walt about the fake communiqué from Euphorbia National Park?"

"No, one of the detectives took that information. My job is questioning you guys."

"You know, Terry or John might have seen something when they flew over him. Coming from behind; without headlights in their eyes, they may have seen more."

"They're next on my list. Let's get Jack inside first." He brought the car to a stop at the Emergency Room entrance.

"Oh, c'mon guys, I don't want a gurney, it's only a broken arm," Jack protested when he saw it being wheeled out for him. "Help me through the doors and I can sit in the waiting room."

Virgil looked at BJ. "He's been like this the whole ride in, nothing but a grouch."

"And this grouch still has one good arm." Jack showed his fisted left hand.

BJ disappeared into the hospital and came out with a wheelchair. "Compromise?"

Jack sighed and sat down. He wasn't feeling up to fighting with either of them. He was wheeled inside and taken to one of the curtained areas. Virgil helped him onto the bed. As Jack lay down, he suddenly looked dismayed. "Crap, they're going to cut my uniform! And this is my best one."

"Don't worry, they'll just cut the sleeve off. Then you can use it as your summer outfit."

Jack brooded on the bed. "Very funny."

A nurse came in and started taking vitals. She stuck an electronic thermometer in his mouth, a pulsox clip on his finger and wrapped the BP cuff on his good arm. While taking his blood pressure, she asked him questions about his medical history and jotted down notes in between pumping the bulb, reading his temperature, and listening to his pressure. All Jack could do was nod his head or mumble. She then brandished a pair of scissors and in one smooth stroke, slit the sleeve on his right arm from wrist to shoulder.

Virgil winced when he looked at the exposed arm. The sick unnatural bend just above the elbow was surrounded by colorful mottled flesh.

She took her scissors to the other arm and Jack balked, "Hey, why do you need to cut that sleeve?"

"Between taking blood, taking your BP and an IV, it's easier to cut the sleeve than to keep rolling it up and down. You've already lost the other sleeve, so what's the difference?" Before he could respond, the sleeve on his left arm was sliced up to his shoulder.

She stored away the equipment and wrote down some information on a clipboard. "Someone will be with you shortly." She turned and left.

Jack turned to his partner. "How do they do that?"

With a smirk on his face, he replied, "Beats me. I wonder what information she wrote down about you. I couldn't understand a thing you said with the thermometer in your mouth."

"Hey, I didn't understand me."

Within 10 minutes a young woman in a lab coat and a plastic tray full of test tubes blew through the curtains. She went to the right arm and both Virgil and Jack yelled in unison, "Not that arm!" She jumped back about a foot. "Geesh fellas, it only took a second for me to realize that."

She took out her tourniquet and tied it tightly around Jack's left arm above the elbow. She tapped the vein just inside the crook of the arm, "Nice veins." With a quick stroke, she swabbed it with an alcohol pad, and aimed her needle.

Before Jack knew what hit him, she placed a pressure bandage at the puncture site and was gone. "Gee, I hardly felt a thing."

Virgil noticed a sheen forming on Jack's face. "How're you feeling?"

"I wouldn't mind if I got some pain meds."

"I'll see if I can round up any." Virgil left through the curtain. He looked around at an almost deserted ER. He supposed not a lot of emergencies occurred in a small town at 4 AM. He walked over to the desk where a nurse sat pushing papers. "Hey, hi Mary Anne." Virgil recognized the woman.

She looked up and smiled. "Hey Virg, whatcha doing here?"

"Jack's in there." He pointed to the curtain that his partner was behind. "Broke his arm and could use some pain meds. Think you can do anything?"

"Sure thing. Just give me a moment. How'd it happen?"

"Long story. How about a cup of coffee later and I'll fill you in?" Virgil said over his shoulder as he headed back to his partner.

"It's a date. In the mean time I'll see what I can do.

Virgil reported to Jack, "Mary Anne's on duty. She'll fix you up."

Jack shifted his position with a clenched jaw. "I hope it's soon."

"Let's give her a few minutes."

"Do I have a choice?"

The curtain parted and in walked the nurse.

"Jack, I'm surprised to see you here. Have you had any pain meds at all yet?"

He shook his head.

"Have you had any meds at all today?"

"No."

"Do you have any allergies to medications that you know of?"

"Just penicillin."

"If you can roll over..." She stopped and looked at the one-piece uniform. "Oh" was all she said. She looked at Virgil. "This is supposed to go in his backend."

"Can't you just give it to him in his arm?"

"Not really, and since he'll need surgery to have that fixed, the suit'll have to come off anyway."

Jack entered the conversation, "Can I have a moment alone with Virg?"

After she left, Jack said, "Surgery? Shit, whatever happened to just casting the arm and going home? Come help me undo the top of my suit, will ya?"

"Why? They've already cut up half of it."

"Uh, uh! It's still salvageable." As Jack sat up, Virgil supported him and unzipped the front of the jumpsuit. He was ghost white. What was left of the jumpsuit slid off his left arm, but they were having a hard time trying to get it off the bad one. With a third unsuccessful attempt, Virgil said, "It will be a lot easier if I just continued the slice and cut through the shoulder and collar, then you won't have to move that arm at all."