Foreign Threat

by Mitchell Goldstein

  “Exactly,” said Steve. “I, uh, just wanted to, uh… Never mind. I’ll just close him up, Dr. Douglas.”

  Jake walked out of the operating room, and Steve asked for closing suture.

  “You are right, Dr. Carmichael,” said A.J. “This was not

  a typical septic arrest. Usually with sepsis the blood pressure just bottoms out.” A.J. continued to talk as he put things away on his anesthesia cart. “I mean, first the guy’s BP jumps sky high, and then we get this tachy arrhythmia. That just is not the way a guy with septic shock should act. I think something weird

  was going on.”

  Steve could tell that A.J. hadn’t seen the white powder in the abdomen, but Steve wasn’t sure if he had really seen it either. The abdomen was filled with pus and blood, and the exposure wasn’t great. Still it sure looked as if the stuff at the base of the mass had a different appearance than the pus nearby.

  Steve stalled for a minute as he thought. He glanced at the man’s foley catheter and saw yellow urine. He looked up at Karla and didn’t say a word. He just stared blankly at her. Finally, he said, “Karla, why don’t you quickly send some urine for a tox screen? I mean, just for us here now. We don’t need to share it with Jake unless there is a big problem.” Steve went back to work sewing his belly shut without waiting for an answer.

  A.J. agreed with the new recommendation. “I think that’s a good idea, young Dr. Carmichael. If it comes back positive, we’ll know that we were running up the wrong tree while trying to save this guy.”

  Steve didn’t say anything but continued to sew. He knew that A.J. was probably right. The guy had more experience than he and Jake put together. But getting the lab test clearly went against Jake’s wishes. If something came about from it, he would have to bring it to Jake’s attention.

  Of course, he could always say that it was A.J.’s idea. Steve knew Jake would never argue with A.J.

  Steve was finished closing. The two women were softly

  talking while Karla was getting paper work ready. A.J. had most of his anesthesia cart put together and had turned the music back on.

  Steve hadn’t even noticed the song. He was still thinking

  about the code and that they would need to get in contact with this guy’s family to let them know about the unfortunate event tonight. He was in deep concentration with his final stitches when he noticed Karla waving the lab sheet in front of his face.

  He looked up and saw the report: Cocaine - positive.

  Chapter 25

  While Steve Carmichael closed the incision on the late Ziamuddin, Bill Thomas was driving in his car around town. He was not on his way to any particular place: he was just driving and thinking.

  This was not the way it was supposed to turn out. The bag was not supposed to be punctured. There was not to be any breach in security. With the package damaged, the receiving party might not even want the contents. If that were the case, then all his efforts over the last several months would have been futile.

  His job was already on the line. He had no doubt that he was being followed, his phone lines tapped. They were on to him, and they were just waiting for the right time to make their move. Then they would bust him. He knew how they worked. They were just watching and making notes of his actions, whereabouts, friends, visitors, and basically every movement. When the time was right, they would jump on him and bust the entire operation.

  He knew because he was one of them. He made many a bust in the exact same way. Because he knew their every move, he felt like he could be one step ahead of them. That’s why his ticket to Brazil would be the most important aspect of his escape. If he were able to get on the plane before they found him, he would be home free. Once in South America, they would not be able to target him or arrest him.

  However, if he were unable to get the money for this job, he would not be able to retire in Brazil or anywhere exotic. So he was driving around town, determined to come up with a plan that would help him explain the hole in the package and allow him to exchange it for the guaranteed money.

  He knew that, whatever excuse he offered, they would be reluctant to take the tampered package for security reasons. If they wouldn’t take the package, then no money for him. It was not complicated, but he had to come up with the right plan to convince them that there had been no breach of security. He thought that maybe he could tell them that he entered the package after it was delivered and that no one else saw the contents. Or maybe during the drop off there was an inadvertent hole punctured into the bag and that it was not noticed until he got home.

  Thomas spent hours driving around town trying to come up with a safe and plausible plan. By dawn, he still had not come up with a logical excuse that he could back up. He drove up to his apartment around five thirty in the morning. Despite the lack of sleep, he still was not tired. He was more worried about losing the millions that they had promised.

  As he opened his door to his apartment, he heard the phone ringing. He thought to himself that it was too early for a friendly phone call. The only person this could be was Jake Douglas. He dashed to the phone, thinking there would be some news about the young courier. However, when he picked up the receiver he heard a more familiar voice.

  “My friend, please meet me at 3rd and 10th in two minutes.”

  That was it. Thomas heard the click of the phone before he could even get a grunt out. It was nearly impossible to get over to 10th in just a few minutes, but since it meant millions of dollars, he had to find a way. He glanced at his watch, noted the time, and dashed out of his apartment. He figured that his lines were probably tapped, so he only had a few minutes before his followers picked up on his whereabouts. He knew a pay phone was located at 3rd and 10th but they would only have a minute to talk before the line might get picked up.

  Thomas nearly knocked over a man on the stairs as he

  quickly ran down the bottom flight and out the lobby door. He looked in all directions out of habit to make sure no one was staking out his apartment. There was nothing obvious, and he didn’t have time to dawdle. Down the street to the left was a garbage truck going the opposite way and no cars at all in the other direction. He looked up to see if any lights were on in any of the other apartment windows above the front door. None. It wasn’t a perfect scan, but Thomas didn’t have time to waffle around. If he missed that phone call, he could kiss millions of dollars away.

  The morning was clear, and the sun was just beginning to rise. He glanced at his watch again before starting his car. The trip down the stairs and into his car took twenty-five seconds. Too much time had been spent looking around. He sped down his street, keeping an eye out for police officers. If efficient people were on his case, they had already notified any officers in the area to just let Thomas speed as much as he needed to in order to make this meeting. The one thing they probably anticipate was that Thomas was rushing to make a phone call on a public line. It would still take them at least one minute to make the connection.

  Since he was running late, he decided to take the most direct route to his destination. He nearly hit a dog on the street as he turned onto 3rd. He drove his car near the telephone booth. He slammed on the brakes and threw the gear into park. He jumped out of the car and glanced for any transmission parts on the street as he ran to the booth.

  He could hear the phone ringing and knew one thing: if he missed this phone call, they might never attempt to contact him again. Just as he was about to pick up the phone, it seemed as if the ringing had stopped. He grabbed the receiver and placed it to his ear. “Hello, hello? Hey, anybody home?”

  No one was on the other line.

  “SHIT!” he muttered out loud. He glanced at his watch. He thought he had been on time, but his watched showed that he was about thirty seconds late. He couldn’t know if that was the second or third time calling. The only certainty was that the phone was not ringing anymore.

  He thought about just leaving, but he knew that this package was too important to th
em. If they really wanted it, they would try again. Of course, they could send another shipment with another courier, but then they would have to take a chance with all new blood and go through the entire plan with someone else. The biggest risk would be that the new contact would go to proper authorities and expose the entire plan.

  He was thinking about all sorts of options of what could happen when the phone started ringing again. He didn’t let it sound even one series through. “Hello?!”

  The response was moment of silence as they identified his voice to make sure it was actually Bill Thomas. These people did not want to take any chances of talking to the wrong group of people and thus putting an end to their plan.

  “Alright, my friend. We have thirty seconds. I’m glad you could make it on such short notice. I knew you wouldn’t let us down. We selected you for your perseverance, not your punctuality. You should have received a package of mine by now. Have you not?”

  “Yes, as a matter of-” Thomas was quickly interrupted.

  “We do not have time for your little chit chat. I need you to deliver the item to a friend. I assume it is intact?”

  Agent Thomas hesitated. This was the moment he spent all night trying to iron out. If he said the truth, they would surely call off the deal. If he lied and delivered the package opened, he would be killed. There had to be a way to outplay them. Maybe he could place the contents in another bag. That’s it! he thought. He would just place all the contents in a new bag before delivering it to its destination. Even if they did figure it out, he would be long gone. He would be on a plane to South America, and no one would have a clue where he was.

  “My friend, you hesitate. Please tell me the truth. I have no time for your bullshit.”

  “You see, the package came to me intact, but then I inadvertently punctured it with one of my keys as I was placing it in a safer container, and then I-”

  Again, Thomas was interrupted. “My friend, you know the terms of this deal!” Another moment of silence followed.

  Agent Thomas could not believe what he had done. In a matter of a few short seconds, he had lost out on millions of dollars, not to mention the safety of his life. He had quickly devised a great alternative to the problem, but he just didn’t have the time to rehearse the correct way of hiding it from the appropriate party.

  “My friend, this really screws this up, but we have come too far along this time to abort the mission. I don't believe your story, but even if it were true, there is only one way to continue forward. I need you to determine who witnessed the entire event and make sure they don’t share that knowledge with anyone. When this is complete, please contact me. My associates and I will then verify your work. If you have been successful, then we will again move forward. I will grant you ten days. My friend, I must tell you I will keep an eye out for you, and if you make any attempts to channel this package to any other party than who it is intended, then I will take action. If I have not heard from you in ten days, I will be forced to take action as well. I will be watching you, my friend.”

  Click.

  “My friend, my ass,” muttered Thomas into the dead phone line. What a shmuck. But Thomas couldn’t get too mad. He himself had screwed this up, but the old geezer gave him a second chance. He looked at his watch: less than a minute had passed. The guy was good.

  Thomas walked back to his car and was about to enter it when he heard from down the street the noise of cars. He thought that was odd at this hour in this part of town. He looked around curiously.

  Ten seconds later, he saw two black Ford Explorers roll past on Eighth Street and cross over Third Avenue. It appeared that Thomas’ colleagues were well on to him, but he knew they would keep their distance until the package showed up and the delivery was made. Until then, it would be useless to bust him. They didn’t have anything on him, and they wouldn’t have the package. That was exactly why he placed the package in safekeeping.

  Thomas slowly got into his car and shut the door. He sat with his head resting on the steering wheel. He thought about the entire conversation. ‘Take action’ only meant one thing: to clean up any potential leaks. If any links to this operation could be exposed, it would destroy not only the entire plan but also possibly the existence of their coalition.

  He knew that if they wanted him dead, it could be accomplished with ease. He didn’t think for a minute to sell the contents to a third party. For one thing, it would be too risky, but more importantly, the financial gains would not be comparable. If he wanted the money, he would have to do it their way, even if they were asking a lot.

  They want him to identify everyone who was in the oper-

  ating room that night with Jake Douglas and Ziamudin. Then Thomas would have to find a way to eliminate each of those potential leaks without attracting attention from the public. He would need to make sure everything was low key, lest his colleagues discover the coverup and bust the operation before

  the delivery was made.

  He looked out the front window and shook his head. Ten days was not much time to devise a plan and to carry it out without a hitch. He would have to come up with different plans and the materials for each person. Normally it would not be a big deal. He usually would be able to go to the agency and get whatever supplies he needed without question. However, he would need to be more discrete because they were already on to him. If he made one bad move, they would be all over him.

  He started his car and drove home. There was much work to be done little time to do it.

  Chapter 26

  It was another long night on call for Steve. After the code in the OR, several traumas came in. Close to 3:00 in the morning, he finally got to sleep. He slept for almost three hours without getting disturbed. That was usually unheard of for call, but Steve wasn’t complaining. The hospital operator woke him up at 5:45 just as he requested.

  Steve found his shoes near the bed and combed his hair with his hand. He rarely bothered with a real comb, but no one seemed to care about his appearance as long as he kept all the patients alive during the night and had all the lab numbers in the morning. When he first started taking call, he would bring his toothbrush with him. Soon he realized that he would only get to use it about half the time, so he decided instead to spend the post-call day with bad breath. That worked out quite well because it would serve two functions: he would not have to lug around a bulky toilet kit, and it usually kept people at great distance from him. That meant fewer interactions with people who would normally give him a thousand extra things to do.

  Gradually he decided not to shave post-call either. This would never cut it at some prestigious residency program, but then he wasn’t at one. It seemed to be a trend for residents not to bother with facial grooming after a night on call at this hospital. Most of the residents didn’t have time anyway.

  Steve had a few minutes this morning for a cup of coffee, necessary to start any day. In the cafeteria, he ran into Erica.

  “Well, good morning, sunshine.” She smiled. “Don’t you look wonderful? Are you showing off that post-call look? You know that does wonders for you. I think you are so cute anyway, but when I see you with that manly facial hair and your hair in a mess like that, well that just turns me on. Why don’t you get a little closer? Come over here, you hunk!” She grabbed Steve by the shoulders and leaned over to his face as if to give him a big smooch. “Ah, just as I expected: you didn’t even brush your teeth. Oh, you don’t know what you are doing to me, Carmichael. I can’t stand it any longer. Come with me, you fool, I need you now.” She tried to pull Steve’s hand in the direction out of the cafeteria, but he pulled her into him instead. She was a little taken back by Steve’s actions with her.

  “If I have that kind of effect on you, then why not show the world how you feel?” With that, Steve pulled her even closer into his arms. Their faces were only a few inches from each other.

  Erica was so shocked, she couldn’t devise a quick come back.

  Steve took full advantage of
the moment and that he was without much sleep and uninhibited. He leaned forward and kissed her lips. He waited for her to push away, but she never did. Finally, he finished the kiss and gently let her go. “Well, good morning, beautiful, and I hope your day goes just as well as mine has started.”

  Without another word, Steve walked away to get his coffee and head toward the ICU for rounds. He turned around for a quick glance at Erica before he disappeared around a corner.

  She had not moved an inch and was just staring at Steve.

  He gave her a warm smile and walked on.

  The day progressed on schedule. Jake was late for rounds, and Sally completed them. When Jake finally arrived, Sally and the team were just getting to the cafeteria for a quick bite before the OR day started.

  Steve noticed that Jake was not any different than usual. He’d thought that the doctor might show a little remorse about

  the events from last night, but he was wrong.

  Jake was himself as usual. “Well, Jenson, how did rounds

  go? Anything I need to be aware of before the OR? How about the lady in room 203? Did she get through the night without too much trouble? I know Carmichael was on last night and that he probably put out any fires that started, but fill me in before I have to see Rosberg.”

  Steve listened to Jake ramble, but his mind was elsewhere. Obviously Jake didn’t care about that young kid who had died the previous night. He probably didn’t care to know about the cocaine in the patient’s body. Steve debated about whether to share this information with him anyway. Jake didn’t want to know last night and probably still didn’t want to know this morning. But the cocaine had killed the man, not the sepsis.