I lay awake, going through every single detail of the attack I could anticipate. In his ignorance, Seth didn’t take into account that the ordinary people of Copper Ridge were waiting for the first opportunity to end his reign of madness. I wasn’t sure what their role would be, since they were civilians, untrained for combat, and I was worried about possible casualties.
Seth didn’t trust Darius, but he didn’t consider him as his enemy either. He still didn’t know about Tristan and Livia and their own small army of Tel-Urughs. He didn’t know about Ingmar, Dinah and Gerard, and the Winstonians. Seth still had more soldiers than I did, though, and I didn’t like it. On the other hand, we had a great motivation to end this madness. Seth’s army was a bunch of mercenaries who fight for money, not for their convictions. And he didn’t have much money left.
I’D HEARD many times that we could have everything we wanted if we believed we could have it.
I closed my eyes, took a few deep breaths and imagined the simple, ordinary pleasures we’d enjoy once free of the constant threat from Seth’s craziness. Like a Halloween celebration. I visualized Astrid in some lovely costume, handing out sweets to the children. My mother would be busy making one of her elaborate Halloween feasts with funny food and green, smoky drinks, and her famous lemon cake with a chocolate spider web on it.
I imagined working not on military training anymore, but focusing on securing funds for the new orthopedic wing Gerhard Falkenstein had been dreaming about, and a 3-D sonogram Astrid had asked about, a new school playground, a fresh coat of asphalt for our roads, a new resort with pools and spas that would bring tourists here all year around.
I wanted to do my civil job, which, in times of peace, would pretty much fit the job description of a small town mayor.
I pictured Astrid in a wedding gown in our old church and myself beside her, holding my daughter in my arms, a big town square celebration after the ceremony and our honeymoon in Villa Aurelia in Palermo, Sicily.
I closed my eyes and drifted into a shallow sleep with Astrid’s smiling face behind my closed lids.
Forty-One
Astrid
IT WAS a quiet night at the hospital. I was in my office, immersed in reading an interesting article on the benefits of rapid intravenous platelet inhibition during percutaneous coronary intervention when I heard a soft knock on the door.
“Come in, please.”
Henry Flanagan’s smiling face peaked in. “Would you mind if I join you, Dr. Mohegan? I can’t get back to sleep.”
Henry’s sleeping pattern was temporarily disturbed. Ahmed had warned me about it. Tonight he’d woken up again in the middle of the night, well rested and full of energy. Of course, had gotten bored. The previous night I’d let him stay in my office until morning. We’d played chess and talked. I’d really enjoyed his company, but neglected to tell him it wasn’t an open invitation.
I sighed. Too late to clarify it now.
“You may stay for a while. Have a seat. Tell me first how you are feeling.”
“Excellent, Dr. Mohegan. I’m just not sleepy, that’s all.”
I touched his forehead, just in case, although I had thoroughly checked him a few hours ago. His temperature was normal. “Okay, it feels fine. So, what are you going to be for Halloween?”
“I know you probably expect me to be more original, Dr. Mohegan, but I really want to be Harry Potter. He’s my favorite character.”
I smiled. “Oh, that’s fine, Henry. I want to be some sort of princess. Not very original either. I just can’t resist those beautiful dresses, shoes and tiaras.”
Henry laughed. “I suppose dressing up as a witch or werewolf wouldn’t work for you.”
“A vampire would do, though,” I said, laughing.
“Who’s your favorite princess? Mary, my cousin, she likes Cinderella the most.”
“I just ordered a Princes Aurora costume. I like her the best.”
I’d been planning a second Halloween celebration for later that night, more intimate and more on the kinky side. With Maggie’s help, I’d been secretly working on a surprise costume, but that wasn’t a topic I was keen to discuss with six-year old Henry Flanagan.
HENRY’S GRANDMOTHER, Donna Flanagan, and his uncle, Mike Kowalski, had rushed Henry to the hospital a few nights ago. He had severe pain in the right lower abdomen, accompanied with low fever, nausea and vomiting. The physical exam and ultrasound had confirmed appendicitis.
There was a very long list of various allergies in his medical file, including penicillin and numerous other prescription drugs or their components. Henry’s medical history, however, couldn’t give us a clue about possible allergies to anesthetics because he’d never been tested for them. And of course, Ahmed hadn’t had time to determine the exact drugs to which Henry could be allergic.
“I can’t put him under general anesthesia, Astrid,” he said grimly. “It would be asking for trouble.”
“The same applies to spinal anesthesia, then,” I’d said.
“Same. Although we would be able to monitor him better. But it’s still too risky. We’ll do it without anesthesia. Let’s prepare him.”
We’d worked fast. I didn’t questioned Ahmed’s decision, nor could I know what we were about to do. I only knew I trusted him completely.
“He’ll be conscious the whole time, but he won’t feel a thing,” Ahmed said. “You have to work fast, though, because I can’t keep him in that condition for long. It takes a lot of energy.”
I nodded. Half an hour later, Henry was in the operating room.
Ahmed gently stroked his face, flushed with fever and shiny with sweat. “Young man, Dr. Mohegan’s going to remove your appendix. You know what that is?”
Henry blinked and nodded. He was scared, yet he smiled bravely. “It’s sort of a small pouch that is attached to the beginning of my large intestine. It’s inflamed, and it’s very dangerous if it’s left untreated, so it must come out,” he said in one breath.
“Are you planning to be a doctor one day?” Ahmed said, smiling. “I hope you do, because that would be an incredible benefit to the medical community. Think about it. Now, you know that you’re allergic to all sorts of things. Dr. Mohegan will do the surgery, and I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt. Okay?”
Henry’s eyelashes fluttered several times and he swallowed hard.
“I’m a shihirbaz, Henry. Do you know what that is?” Ahmed asked the little boy, whose face was now paper-white, and moved his hands down to his abdomen. “In my language shihirbaz means wizard,” Ahmed continued in his low, soothing voice. “Now, I’m going to tell you a story about my great-great-grandfather, who was the first shihirbaz in our family. His name was Harun, and he lived in Izmir, a beautiful town by the Aegean Sea—”
“It’s also called Smyrna,” Henry said in a weak voice. “Has Dr. Mohegan started yet?”
“She’s about to. Don’t worry, you won’t feel any pain. Anyway, when Harun was about your age…” Ahmed carried on in a quiet tone. At the same time, his hands framed a circle on Henry’s lower abdomen. Without interrupting his narrative, he took a deep breath and briefly closed his eyes.
“We’re ready, Astrid. Work fast,” he said.
Without hesitation, I made a McBurney incision. I glanced at Henry. He didn’t wince.
Leslie, a surgical nurse, was doing an excellent job. She was calm and confident, as if assisting in non-anesthetized surgeries was a daily event.
After thirty minutes, we were done. Ahmed removed his hands from Henry’s abdomen, and stroked his cheeks. “It’s over, Henry. You were incredibly brave. Rest now,” he said quietly. “The antibiotics will do the rest.”
“Okay,” Henry sighed sleepily. “Make sure they are non-penicillin. Please tell my grandma and Mike I’ll be okay. It didn’t hurt at all. It was only ticklish a bit.”
Henry smiled and drifted to sleep.
I glanced at Ahmed. He was a bit pale and looked tired, but besides that, he seemed fine. “
What was that, Ahmed? How come I didn’t know about it?”
“One of my secret skills. I’ll tell you about it later,” he said. We walked to the waiting room to talk with Donna Flanagan and Henry’s maternal Uncle Mike, a six-foot-two werewolf from a southern Texas clan. He’d moved to Red Cliffs a year ago to be close to his sister and her family. According to the local gossip, the handsome Deputy Sheriff with his signature black Stetson and cowboy boots was such a hot item on the bachelor market that his single days seemed numbered.
Donna and Mike rushed to us.
Throughout my career as a doctor, I’d learned that a smile was worth a thousand words. Before Donna or Mike could ask about Henry, I smiled at them broadly. “He’s gonna be fine,” I said. “We’ll keep him here for two-three days, but he’ll be okay.”
“Thank you, Astrid,” Donna said and hugged me. “That was scary. Angela and Jordan must be out of their mind with worry.”
But Mike was already on the phone, talking to his sister. “He’s fine, Angie,” he said. “Dr. Canagan just talked to us. Yes, she and Dr. Demmir operated on him. He’s sleeping now… No, no problems with allergies, he’s fine… Yes, I’ll stay with Donna… She’s okay… Let me talk to Jordan, honey.”
“Angie phoned from Anchorage airport,” he explained when he finished talking to his brother-in-law. “They’ll try to catch the first flight to Denver.”
“Anchorage?” Ahmed said. “I saw her three days ago.”
“She went to Alaska to stay with Jordan for the last week of his assignment. A sort of second honeymoon,” Donna said.
Jordan Flanagan was an environmental specialist, she explained, who had taken a six-month research assignment in Alaska as part of his doctoral studies.
“I’m so relieved I could cry,” Donna said in a trembling voice. “I was so scared.”
Astrid hugged her gently. “It’s over, Donna. Henry will recover in no time.”
LATER THAT night Ahmed had told me about his unusual ability. His hands on Henry’s abdomen, he’d explained, formed a sort of energy field, making the whole area inaccessible to pain.
His rare skill also worked as a sort of advanced Emergency First Aid: his energy acted as a highly efficient cardiopulmonary resuscitation and natural defibrillator, if necessary.
Keeping a heart alive and managing the pain required a tremendous amount of energy, and Ahmed couldn’t have carried on with that kind of procedure indefinitely. “One hour, tops,” he’d said, “but that’s usually enough.”
“YOU’RE GOING home tomorrow, Henry,” I said and moved my bishop. We were playing an online game of chess on two computers. Henry nodded, his eyes fixed on his screen.
As soon as this mess with Seth was over, I thought, I’d have Liv examine Henry and recommend one of her experimental therapies. I said experimental, because Livia still couldn’t introduce them to humans, but I knew they were absolutely safe and one hundred percent effective. Well, it might not be enough proof for humans—they were really fond of testing and retesting their pharmaceuticals—but it would be quite okay for us.
“Check-mate, Dr. Mohegan!”
“Marvelous, Henry! Congratulations. Now I really think you should go back to your room and try to sleep. It’s almost dawn,” I said, accepting my defeat.
“Please, Dr. Mohegan, one more game. “Besides, Mike promised to come before the end of his shift.”
“Don’t count on that, Henry. Mike’s shift ends at six, and you’re going back to your room right now.”
“Just one more game. Please.”
I let out another resigned sigh. I could be the highest authority of my clan, but I was apparently fair game for a 168-IQ six-year old genius with a particular talent for chess.
“Okay. One more and then you’re going back to your room. Deal?”
Henry beamed. “Deal!”
“And don’t tell your grandmother I let you stay awake so late.”
“Or rather so early.”
“Right. Just don’t say a word.”
THE CALL had come through the dispatcher at 3:25 a.m.
Our ambulance squad always included a doctor on duty—a practice similar to those in some European countries—providing the name, address and brief description of the emergency.
My heart froze.
‘Frances Colby, 56 Tamarack Drive, eight months pregnant, heavy bleeding,’ the message said.
My phone started buzzing at the same moment.
“Astrid, oh, God, I’m so glad you’re working tonight! I’m here with Frances. She’s bleeding!”
The agitated voice sounded almost exactly like Peyton’s, but it couldn’t fool me.
The monitor on my desk read that the ambulance was ready to dispatch.
The door opened at that moment and a man that looked almost exactly like Mike Kowalski stepped in. He couldn’t fool me either.
“Dr. Mohegan, let’s go if you’re ready,” he said. “Henry, how are you feeling?”
Henry nodded. “Good, Uncle. Thank you.”
“I’ll be behind you, Dr. Mohegan. As usual.”
I nodded. “Thanks, Mike.”
Jack had insisted that Mike always accompany me whenever I responded to a call, and this bastard knew that.
“Peyton,” I said over the phone, “when did the bleeding start? How heavy it is?”
I didn’t want those people at Frances house—whoever they were—to know I’d figured out they were taking me to Copper Ridge. Not until Henry was safely out of my room.
Heather Kincaid continued with her charade. “Just five minutes ago. She’s bleeding heavily. Please hurry! What can I do?”
“Make her lay down. Stay with her, I’m on my way,” I said and disconnected the line.
I glanced at the man beside the door. By that time I’d realized what was going on. He was looking directly at me so I gave up the idea of pressing the speed dial button to reach Jack or Ahmed.
The kidnapping had been carefully planned. Frances’s baby was probably fine, but she might not be. Heather’s call had come from Frances’s home phone.
“Are you ready, Doctor Mohegan?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
I turned to Henry, who stiffly sat in his chair, his eyes moving back and forth from “his Uncle” to me.
“Henry,” I said to him, “you need to go to your room now.”
“I’m going… Dr. Mohegan, I’m almost recovered, right? Can my Uncle bring me ice cream tomorrow?”
My heart stopped. Henry had realized this man wasn’t his Uncle Mike! Was he was trying to warn me now? Smart, brave little boy!
“Sure thing,” I said, keeping my voice neutral. “Now go to your room and stay there. That’s an order, young man.”
“A big vanilla-chocolate ice cream with peanuts, Uncle,” he carried on. “My favorite.”
God! A lick of that ice cream would send him right into anaphylactic shock!
“Ice cream it is, kiddo,” ‘Mike’ said. “I’ll pick it up after my shift and bring it to you. Okay?”
“Okay.”
I moved a step forward, shielding Henry from the man’s look. I opened my emergency kit, pretending to check its content.
I found Henry’s eyes, wide open and round as two green gumballs. I made a slow, discreet shake with my head. No. Don’t try anything, I mouthed.
Henry blinked several times and swallowed hard. “Well, okay then. See you in the morning, Dr. Mohegan,” he said and slid out of the chair. “Good night, Uncle.”
“Good night, Henry,” the man managed quite a convincing smile as Henry left for his room. “I’ll come to see you tomorrow.”
“Don’t forget the ice-cream, Uncle.”
I took a deep breath, hoping that Henry would be safer here than with me as a hostage.
So Seth would get me, after all, in spite of all those safety measures and precautions, a literal house arrest, with my various guards and protectors. In spite of the rising panic in my head, I almost sm
iled. No matter how well he’d planned my kidnapping he couldn’t predict every detail, such as a six-year old prodigy and his hunch that the moron impersonating his uncle didn’t have a clue about his allergies. Dear God, keep the boy safe!
“You won’t need that, Doc,” the above-mentioned moron said when I reached for my phone. “Jack isn’t coming to the rescue. Every single phone in Red Cliffs, including Jack’s, is dead at the moment.”
“Jack will be looking for me before you can say ‘Jack Robinson’.”
“Huh? Jack who?” he asked with an almost comical expression. “Well, we’re counting on that. We’ll be ready. In case you’re wondering, Deputy Kowalski is busy with a minor road accident in another part of town, and your Turk watchdog is lying unconscious in his office. Aren’t you eager to see your mother? Seth’s going to get rid of her soon, right after your wedding. Don’t miss the chance to say goodbye to her. In other words, don’t get any ideas about escaping.”
An invisible, cold hand squeezed my heart. They had my mother! How could we have underestimated our enemy so grossly?
I took a deep breath. It wasn’t a good time to be paralyzed with fear. Darius was there. Jack would soon storm Copper Ridge with his troops, Liv’s Tel-Urughs, wizards, Ellida Morgaine. Everything would be fine… Everything would be fine…
Oh God, please, let everything be fine!
I breathed in and out several times until my heart slowed down. There was no way back. The game had started, and for a moment I almost felt relief. Red Cliffs’ Commander-in-Chief was going to war, although not on a white horse.
Not to mention her army was nowhere to be seen.
I turned to my kidnapper as we walked me toward the ambulance. “Just tell me if Frances Colby’s okay,” I said.
“Oh, she’s fine, I mean her baby and all. But here we have someone else who wants to meet you. We took him with us to secure Mrs. Colby’s and your cooperation.” He opened the rear loading doors and pushed me in. “Here she comes, Bill.”
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