By the time the chopper cleared the med center perimeter and touched down, her eyes had shut, and when Slater lifted the lids, all he could see was the whites. Her limbs were pretty still, only occasionally rocked by sudden paroxysms as if jolts of electricity were shooting through her. Slater knew the signs werent good. It would have been different if hed had the antivenin with him in the field, but it was costly stuff, in short supply, and it deteriorated rapidly if it wasnt kept refrigerated.
Some of the staff at the med center looked surprised at the new admission a local girl, when theyd been expecting a Marine but Slater issued his orders with such conviction that not a second was lost. Covered with dirt and sweat, his fingers stained with snake blood, he was still clutching her limp hand as she was wheeled into the O.R., where the trauma team was ready with the IV lines.
Careful when you insert those, Slater warned. The entry points are going to seep from the venom.
Major, the surgeon said, calmly, we know what were doing. We can take it from here.
But when he tried to let go, the girls fingers feebly squeezed his own. Maybe she thought it was her dad.
Hang in there, honey, Slater said softly, though he doubted she could hear, or understand, him. Dont give up. He extricated his fingers, and a nurse quickly brushed him aside so that she could get at the wound and sterilize the site. The surgeon took a syringe filled with the antivenin, held it up to the light, and expressed the air from the plunger.
Slater, knowing that he was simply in the way now, stepped outside and watched through the porthole in the swinging doors. The doctor and two nurses went through their paces with methodical precision and speed. But Slater was afraid that too much time had passed since the attack.
A shiver hit him, and he slumped into a crouch by the doors. This was the worst recurrence of the malaria hed had in months, and the sudden blast of air-conditioning made him long for a blanket. But if he let on how bad it was, he could find himself restricted to desk duty in Washington a fate he feared worse than death. He just needed to get back to his bunk, swallow some meds, and sweat it out for a day or two. The blood was beating in his temples
like a drum.
And it got no better when he heard the voice of his commanding officer, Colonel Keener, bellowing from down the hall. Did you call in this mission, Major Slater?
I did.
You did, sir . Keener corrected him, glancing at a printout in his hand. And you claimed this was a Marine? A Marine casualty?
I did, he replied, sir.
And youre aware that were not an ambulance service? That you diverted a Black Hawk from its scheduled, combat-related run, to address a strictly civilian matter? His frustration became more evident with every word he spoke. Maybe you didnt read the advisory the one that was issued to all base personnel just two days ago?
Every word.
Slater knew his attitude wasnt helping his case, but he didnt care. Truth be told, he hadnt cared about protocols and orders and commands for years. Hed become a doctor so that he could save lives, pure and simple; hed become an epidemiologist so that he could save thousands of lives, in some of the worlds worst places. But today, he was back to trying to save just one.
Just one little girl, with perfect little ears. And a father, off somewhere in Khan Neshin, no doubt begging Allah for a miracle a miracle that wasnt likely to be granted.
You know, of course, that I will have to report this incident, and the AFIP is going to have to send out another staffer now to decide what to do about our malaria problem, the colonel was saying. That could take days, and cost us American lives. He said the word American in such a way as to make it plain that they were all that counted in this world. You may consider yourself off duty and restricted to the base, Doctor, until further notice. In case you dont know it, youre in some very deep shit.
Slater had hardly needed to be told. While Keener stood there fuming, wondering what other threat he could issue, the major fished in his pocket for the Chloriquine tablets he was taking every few hours. He tried to swallow them dry, but his mouth was too parched. Brushing past the colonel, he staggered to the water fountain, got the pills down, then held his head under the arc of cool water. His scalp felt like a forest fire that was finally getting hosed down.
The surgeon came out of the O.R., looked at each one of them, then went to the colonels side and said something softly in his ear. The colonel nodded solemnly, and the surgeon ducked back inside the swinging doors.
What? Slater said, pressing his fingertips into his wet scalp. The water was running down the back of his neck.
It looks like you blew your career for nothing, Keener replied. The girl just died.
But the actual punch, which must have been a haymaker, was a mystery.
Then he returned to the fountain and put his head back down under the spray. If there were tears still in him, he thought, hed be shedding them now. But there werent any. They had dried up years ago.