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Rescuing Rebecca

Page 22

by Serena James


  The woman nodded moving her swivel chair round at the camera Jed had set up. The small basement that they sat in was cool in South Bundhara’s blistering heat but it was verging on coldness. Or maybe it was the company she was surrounded by. Rebecca couldn’t help pondering the question as to how far she would go to fight for freedom. Maybe you had to move into a different mentality where everything had a different meaning. Maybe you had to lose touch with your everyday reality and enter a new one. Sounded like madness. Maybe madness was the freedom that Somwan and other terrorists craved for.

  Somwan continued. “This new enemy is located within my own profession and the international medical community as a whole. There is an international shortage of organs available in the world for transplant and more and more people need them. The more unscrupulous medical practitioners among us have seen an opportunity to exploit the fears of those dying as they wait for an organ on national registers. They have exploited the poor in developing countries, persuading people to sell a kidney. And others have simply drugged people and stolen their organs.”

  Rebecca glanced at Jed in surprise. He raised his dark eyebrows at her. She watched him make an adjustment on the camera and turned back to Somwan.

  “Then there are those who kidnap and murder people for their organs to save the lives of those they deem have a more justifiable right to live.”

  Rebecca remembered feeling shocked. Now she understood why Somwan had been hinting on her e-mails that she could help out with the story she was pursuing at The Weber Grey.

  Rebecca asked, “Who are these people? Do you have any evidence of what they are doing? Is this just happening in South Bundhara or all over the world?” She had to admit that her tone sounded a trifle disbelieving, as did the expression on her face.

  Somwan gave her an icy stare. Rebecca’s heart began to thud a little harder. But she refused to change the manner of her questioning. It was her job to remain impartial, take the other side occasionally when it wasn’t represented.

  Somwan’s voice was cool. But Rebecca got the impression that it was an effort for her to retain her composure. “This is happening on a wider scale in South Bundhara but is spilling out through the rest of Asia, Europe and beyond. An organization of doctors are murdering our children and the poor of this country.”

  Passion blazed with the force of a furnace through Somwan’s words. Rebecca gave Jed an excited glance. He returned it.

  “The poor in the villages call these doctors, “The men in white masks.”” It sounded almost comical. “They talk of how they come like phantoms at night and steal the children from their beds.”

  Rebecca interrupted her. “Do they just take children?”

  “No. They take the old, the physical and mentally disabled, orphans, the criminals, the poor who have nowhere to live and those who oppose the government. Sometimes random people are taken and no one knows why. They are coldly murdered for their organs to give to obese and ailing rich clients who pay them well. The doctors who perpetrate these crimes are not all South Bundharan – they come from Europe, America and other countries. I know that the South Bundharan government is in league with these people and is making a huge profit from their trade.”

  Rebecca swallowed to moisten her drying throat.

  “How do you know all of this?”

  Somwan stared at her hard. Rebecca’s anxiety and excitement increased in tandem but she was damned if she was going to let the woman see any of her fear. She removed any emotion from her face and stared back blankly. Her eyes flashed just the necessary amount of defiance at the woman’s intimidation.

  “I know because three years ago, before I came to head the Bundenese Liberation Army, I was one of the surgeons involved in the initial government programme to extract organs. They held my two children hostage. I had no choice but to operate on these unfortunate victims.”

  Rebecca glanced at Somwan’s hands resting in her lap. They were shaking with fury.

  When Somwan didn’t say anything else, Rebecca prompted her. “Can you tell me exactly what you were forced to do? Whom did you operate on?”

  Somwan blurted the answer out loudly; an emotional tremor of regret hit the room with full force. “A child, a disabled boy.” She paused again. “He couldn’t walk. That was all, otherwise he was healthy. They took him from his parents. They brought him in screaming for his mother. I’ve never heard an eight-year-old child cry like that before. I still hear his screams at night sometimes. They held him down and sedated him. I tried to refuse but I had to protect my own children or the same would happen to them.”

  Somwan had a faraway look in her eyes. Rebecca found that she couldn’t avert her gaze from the woman as she began narrating the details of the boy’s murder.

  “We cut him open. Pulled his ribs apart as though he were a can of food and extracted his kidneys and his liver. But it was I who really killed him when I removed his still beating heart.”

  An eerie silence settled over the small claustrophobic room. Somwan carried on, “They dumped his body on top of a pile of others waiting to be cremated. I was forced to repeat the operation many times.”

  Nobody spoke for a moment. Rebecca recovered first. Her voice sounded dry. She was still struggling with her nausea. “Whose authority were you made to do this under? A member of the Southern Bundenese government or an outside source?

  “The order for me to act came directly from President Sakada Juntasa himself.”

  “When do you believe they started to carry out this harvest of organs on a larger scale?”

  “I believe I was one of the first doctors to do it. It was low key back then but the operation has grown in size. They have been using the British charity Blue Dove Medical Care as a cover. Patients would be encouraged to go there for free medical help. Something that is essential in our poor country. Patients would go into the hospital and many would not come out. They have denied any involvement, blaming deaths on poor sanitation and other illnesses. But it started there. Now the men in white come and no one knows where they are taken. But we have recently found the hospital where these people are murdered for their organs.”

  “Can you take us there?”

  “Yes. I will show you. We believe they have set up other hospitals in some other countries. We have found out that this initiative was devised and set up by British doctors as a test in South Bundhara three years ago. We do not know all of the names but we have some. We do not know who is at the top of the heap so to speak, but we have some names to start with.”

  Rebecca finished the interview by quizzing her on the two Bundenese patients whose organs had been stolen at the Weber Grey. She asked Somwan how she had known about the case.

  “One of the parents that you spoke to has a brother who belongs to our Army of Liberation.”

  “Is this the work of “the men in white”?”

  Somwan appeared to be recovering from her emotion and her voice was turning back to its natural cold state. “Undoubtedly. There is one such hospital in England, possibly more. But that is up to you to find out. I will take you to the hospital here now.”

  Jed stopped filming and Somwan got up to leave. Rebecca seized her chance and rested a hand on the woman’s arm.

  “You said on your e-mails that you would be able to help with my brother.”

  Somwan showed no sympathy. “I do not know about your brother. It is more than possible that he was forced into doing that operation. In either case he would still be guilty of murder.”

  Rebecca felt herself flinch at the mention of murder and her brother in the same sentence.

  She went on. “He is a very highly regarded surgeon in the international medical community and his latest research on heart transplants equals my own. It is possible that they are trying to persuade him to join them or face a false murder charge. These doctors operate under the leadership of someone powerful in your country, perhaps someone of influence in your government, they can make anything happen.”

>   Her speech did little to comfort Rebecca. Jed gave her a pat on the back. He told her, “I suggest you just go ahead and confront him with it. He’s been trying to keep it secret from you. He’s guilty of something...”

  She snapped. “Oh thanks Jed. You always were tactless. He’s all I have got.”

  “Sorry. But he isn’t all you’ve got...” he’d drawled in his Texan accent. He’d grinned at her. “You have me and always will have.”

  “We aren’t going down that road again. You go and find some nice Texan girl.”

  “Yeah, when I am good and ready.”

  “You are forty-five. I think you are more than ready.”

  “I will never be ready. Anyway, I have plenty time yet.”

  She’d frowned suddenly lost in thought about her brother. She felt Jed rub her shoulder. He said, “I know what you are thinking about. You are thinking about what Michael said to you when he couldn’t save that child.”

  She nodded. A few years back Michael had been affected on a deep emotional level by one of his patients. Eve was a ten-year-old girl. She’d needed a new heart but her name was way down on the register. He had a bond with the girl. She remembered Michael telling her how brave the little girl was, how she reminded him of his sister when she faced the gun men. She was a fighter and had told Michael that she wanted to be a heart surgeon like him when she grew up. She was a bright kid with a bright outlook on life despite the odds for her surviving. Rebecca had even visited her when she wanted to know more about what she did. But her health failed.

  Michael had become depressed. He’d got drunk the night she died on his operating table. He had moved in with Rebecca after his divorce and she was glad she’d been there to help him control his rage and pain. He’d told her about the little girl’s sister. She was mentally disabled and would never function as a human being on her own. He’d wanted to know why he couldn’t just take her heart and give it to Eve. She would have had a chance at life.

  An argument had ensued about the fact that he had no right to say who lived or died. She’d put his outburst to a momentary loss of balance due to grief. But maybe it had gone further.

  Jed told her, “Look, I like Michael. He’s a pompous ass surgeon but I like him. He fights for his patients to the bitter end. I don’t think for one minute he has murdered anyone. I think you have to give him the benefit of the doubt. You need to ask him straight and put your mind at rest.”

  Jed’s outlook was always on the positive side. Rebecca hadn’t been born with that luxury and although she nodded in agreement with him, it only gnawed at her more. She wanted to get home as soon as possible and have it out with Michael.

  * * * * *

  The hospital looked ordinary despite the sinister build up Somwan had given it. It was a basic glass and grey metal structure that resembled an office block more than a hospital and looked dull against the bright sky. They sat squatting in the undergrowth with Somwan, Niran and a couple of other men with assault rifles. Rebecca looked at it through a pair of binoculars whilst Jed panned his camera around.

  There were many military vehicles and ambulances around the front entrance of the hospital with soldiers milling around. Rebecca watched two vans approach the hospital and pass through the armed guard at the gates. Blue Dove Medical Care was written on the sides of the vans. They stopped outside the hospital entrance. Jed began filming again.

  People came out the back of the first van. They were handcuffed and were roughly pushed out. They were a mixed bunch, a man, two women, and a child. Rebecca felt nausea rise from the pit of her stomach once more.

  Somwan said, “They look relatively healthy. They are lucky they will die quickly.”

  Rebecca remained silent. She turned her attention to the second vehicle. She gave a frown. It was filled with young women. She looked at Somwan bemused.

  “Prostitutes. Most of the doctors are male. They steal women from the villages to entertain them. It has been rumoured that some have sold their daughters to save their skins. Some have even sold their daughters” organs to save their male children.”

  Rebecca felt a nasty taste come into her mouth. She put down her binoculars.

  She snapped at Somwan. “I will work on this straight away. I will do my best to find out who is behind this in London. But it is going to take time.”

  “I don’t have time Rebecca. I want an invasion of South Bundhara. I want this stopped. You need to find out who is doing this and stop them influencing your Prime Minister on holding off from intervening. I want the British and their American allies to invade and give my group power to run the country. In return we will help them invade and grant them trade concessions. They will also get to keep their cheap source of oil. You have two weeks to find out who is responsible and expose them in your media. You also must convince your government of my wishes. If you don’t, on Friday the 27th February at am in rush hour four suicide bombs will be detonated in the middle of London.”

  Rebecca jumped on her angrily, “You can’t do that.”

  “But I can.”

  “I came here...”

  “Because you were forced to. I won’t just have those bombs detonated I will also kill the man you love, Dominic Kane and I will make sure the men in white masks take his sister.”

  Rebecca almost spat her words with contempt at the woman, “You are desperate, aren’t you? I can’t guarantee you anything...”

  “I don’t want to hear any more excuses. You’d better get moving before it gets dark. Your clock is ticking Rebecca. Niran will take you back.”

  * * * * *

  Rebecca explained to Dominic that was when they had run into trouble. She told him about Srisai and the torture she’d endured. She tried to skirt over it but he wanted to know everything they had done to her so there were no secrets between them.

  Dominic wanted to help her get over her ordeal and share her pain and trauma. He didn’t want Rebecca facing what they’d done to her alone as she had done with her parents” murder and the incident in Afghanistan. He wanted to be part of her recovery.

  He listened to her intently but a dark cloud began to settle over his features and shadow his eyes. She could feel his anger. It was hot and feverish. He was holding it back with strength. She could see the concentration in his eyes. It made her tremble. She couldn’t help wonder if some of it was directed at herself. Maybe he blamed her for some of it. She didn’t know. She felt confused. She felt afraid of his thoughts. He seemed so closed from her at that moment.

  That was when she’d glanced at Ramsay who sat facing them across a large mahogany table. He was looking out of the window and Stuart next to him on the aisle was pretending to be asleep. But she knew they’d heard. The cabin was so quiet apart from the noise of the engines; perhaps they’d all heard what she’d told Dominic. She didn’t want to talk anymore. She looked down at the table downcast as though she’d done something wrong.

  Dominic was still leaning towards her seat. She felt his fingers brush her cheek then come to rest on her chin. He tilted her face up towards him.

  “I need you to go on. I know it’s painful but I need to know everything that happened to you. I need to know who did all of these things to you.” There was a plea in his voice that revealed the level of emotion he was trying to contain within him. It made her worry for him. She trembled all the more. He noticed.

  “I’m sorry. You’re tired, still woozy from being drugged. I can’t help it. But I just need to know.”

  He still held her hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze and she drew strength from him. She nodded fully aware that she wasn’t just telling him. She supposed that Dominic’s team were all involved in her trauma. They needed to know why Tom and Connor had betrayed them. They all needed to know what they were involved in. She continued narrating her truth, the whole truth and nothing but...

  Chapter Twenty

  Violated, blood oozing down her legs from her torture, Rebecca was dragged along the floor and thrown in a cel
l. She lay where they’d thrown her for an hour. She was shivering and sobbing uncontrollably. All she wanted to do was to sleep but she knew that if she did, it would all start again. She fought her tiredness with all of the strength she had left.

  The floor was cold against her nakedness. She felt humiliated and degraded on an unimaginable scale. She sobbed quietly to herself, desperately trying to calm her screaming mind, filling it with images of Dominic and the life they could have had together. She was damned if that bastard Srisai was going to break her now.

  Another half hour passed and then she heard the marching footsteps of soldiers. Her eyes had been closing and she was beginning to lose the battle with sleep. They probably had a camera in the cell somewhere she couldn’t see. They were coming back for her. She made the effort to raise herself from the filthy floor.

  She crawled along to rest her grubby blood stained body back against the wall, vainly attempting to hide in the darkness of the room. She shielded herself from the rays of sunshine coming through the small high barred window to prevent it from revealing her presence and brought her knees up to her chest to hug herself. She rocked her body back and forth hoping to soothe the pulsing aching pain between her legs and buttocks.

  She stared expectantly at the door. Her heart was thudding so fiercely she had a strange mental image of it bursting inside her. She found herself praying for the comfort of death as the footsteps grew louder. Maybe she would get lucky and die before they opened the door. Maybe the shock of seeing the men would give her a heart attack and she would die.

  She heard Srisai’s voice as the key turned in the lock. She covered her mouth to stifle a cry of fear. The metal door squeaked as it was opened. Srisai appeared in the doorway. She pressed her back further against the wall, hoping somehow it would swallow her. Another figure came into the room. A figure she recognised.

 

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