She pulled the Land Rover to the side of the road and turned to Nick. “You mind if I pray for you?”
“I guess it would be okay,” he said reluctantly.
She put a hand on his shoulder. “Father. My good Father, thank you for Nick. Thank you for his heart of compassion, because I know it is your heart toward these children. Thank you that you have arranged for this time. Now, Papa, speak to us. Amen.”
They sat in silence for a long time. Nick wondered if he should be waiting for a lightning bolt or something. He glanced at Maggie. She sat still with her eyes closed.
Suddenly she straightened up, reached into the glove compartment in front of Nick, and pulled out a small Bible. “I’m hearing Hebrews 12.”
She opened the book and read: “ ‘Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.’ ”
She then paraphrased a section on discipline. Nick watched her finger trace down the page. “Yes, this is it. This is what I think God wants to say to us—to you. Hebrews 12:12 and 13. ‘Therefore, strengthen the hands that are weak and the knees that are feeble, and make straight paths for your feet, so that the limb, which is lame, may not be put out of joint, but rather be healed.’ Sounds like Isabella, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, but I’m not sure I understand.”
They sat in silence. Nick slumped in his seat, not sure what was expected.
He then laughed. “Sorry, I’m still feeling very Grinchy and I just thought of something I hadn’t before.”
“Huh?”
“Sorry, I’m not trying to be sacrilegious, but I’ve had this idea pop into my head.” He pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket. “You think I could get cell service here?”
“Yeah, probably. Why?”
“One of my classmates did a pediatric ortho fellowship. I think he’s at Seattle Children’s.”
He did a quick search and sure enough, there he was. Tod Goodman, Department of Orthopedic Surgery, Seattle Children’s Hospital. Nick looked at his watch.
“I doubt that I’ll catch him on the weekend,” he said, dialing the phone. “Hi, this is Dr. Hart from, uh, Memphis.” He almost said Guatemala. “I’m looking for Dr. Goodman.”
There was a long pause.
“They are connecting me to the floor,” Nick told Maggie. He was excited.
Nick took a while to explain to the floor nurse who he was and tried to patiently break through her defenses. He pleaded with her to put him through to his friend. Nick looked at his phone a few times to make sure he hadn’t been disconnected during an excruciating long hold.
Maggie teased him, “Now you know how the rest of us feel.”
Nick started to make a playful comeback when his friend came on the line.
“Nick Hart, how in the heck are you?”
“Hey, Tod, good to hear your voice. Thanks for taking my call. I hope I’m not catching you in the middle of something.”
“Oh, you know how it goes. I’m on call this weekend—never a dull moment.”
“Look, I know you’re in the middle of it, so we’ll catch up later, but I really need your advice.”
“Sure, Nick. Anything for my chief.” Nick had been chief resident when Tod started his training. Nick was glad he had been nice, for the most part, to the guys under him.
“It’s a long story, Tod, but I’m actually calling you from Guatemala.”
“Really? Guatemala? You in jail?” He laughed loudly.
“Man, I miss that infectious laugh of yours.”
Nick covered the phone with his hand. “He thinks I’m in jail.”
She laughed. “He must know you well.”
“No, I’m changing my ways, but I do have a situation. I’m down here to help a friend at a mission hospital.”
“A mission hospital? Is this really Nick Hart? The guy who doesn’t take vacations and doesn’t believe in God?”
“Okay, okay. But really, I am—and I need your advice.”
“What’s up?”
“I’m at the Hope Center, and I have seen six kids with clubfeet.”
“Six? Wow. All babies?”
“No—and that’s the hard part. All of them are past the age of stretching and casting. The oldest one is twelve.”
“Twelve? Man, that’s a tough one.”
There was a long pause. Nick looked at his phone. “Tod, you there?”
“Yeah, just thinking. I wish I could tell you that we could bring them here and operate on them. But there’s no way. Ten years ago maybe, but now, no way.”
Nick nodded at Maggie, hoping she could hear the conversation. She nodded.
“You thinking of fixing them there?”
“Yeah, for about two seconds, until reality struck. Tod, I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“What if we did them together?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, Nick—just thinking. Kim and I have always wanted to do a mission trip, and our kids are getting old enough where we would feel comfortable traveling with them. When are you thinking?”
“Uh…Monday?”
Tod executed one of his flamboyant laughs. “Now that’s the Dr. Hart I remember.”
There was another long pause.
“I’m just thinking out loud here,” Tod began, “so please don’t get your hopes up. My kids are on spring break next week, and we are headed to Disneyland for the week. So I have no idea. I’ll have to talk with Kim and the kids. Could we even bring our kids down?”
Maggie nodded enthusiastically.
“Yeah, sure. Of course,” Nick told Tod.
“Well, I better get back to my patients. Can I call you back on this number? You’re going to owe me big time,” Tod laughed again.
“Man, I will personally buy your plane tickets down here.”
“Nick Hart flying me to Guatemala. Now I know that God is really in this.”
Oh no, not you too.
CHAPTER 23
* * *
The Virus
Pak Song-ju handed Professor Kwon the box. He was one of the few men in North Korea that Pak respected, both for his intelligence and for his passion for what they were accomplishing.
He could easily overlook his appearance. Kwon’s wardrobe was pretty much the same from day to day—a threadbare, wool sweater over a white shirt with one or both collars turned up or out, and his unkempt, black hair shot out of his head as though he were standing next to a Tesla coil.
Kwon adjusted his glasses, the lens heavily spotted with grime, and stared at the box.
“This is from Professor Suk and his men in Guatemala?”
He sat forward in his squeaky desk chair and set the box down in front of him. Savoring the moment, with his eyes fixed on the box, he stretched both hands on his desk and sighed loudly. “I can’t believe this is finally it, Song-ju.”
Kwon was the only other person in the world besides Pak’s parents who would dare address him by his first name. Not even his wife was allowed to do that.
Pak put a firm hand on the professor’s shoulder. “This is your hard work, my friend. You are to be congratulated. They tell me it is 100 percent effective now. You will be richly rewarded.”
“100 percent?” He looked at Pak in surprise.
“Yes.”
“That is more than we hoped for.” He looked back at the metal box. He picked it up and carefully inserted a magnetic key into the tiny lock. His hands shook.
“Careful, Professor, you don’t want to break the tube. This is the crown of your life’s work.”
“Yes, indeed.” Kwon opened the box carefully. He saw that the dense gel inside the box was still frozen. “Good.” With trembling fingers, he pulled out the vial and held it up to the light. There was a slight phase separation of the blood and plasma, but the specimen was frozen solid. “Excellent.”
* * *
Northeastern Guatemala
“I’m tired of those filthy things and their smell,” Hwang snorted at Suk as he sat at the table, sharpening a knife. He inspected the large blade. The missionary’s blood had long been washed off. “Let me skin them and put them out of my misery,” he sneered, testing the edge of the sharp knife.
“All in due time.” Suk stood in front of the row of cages against the wall. He petted one of the ferrets he had removed from its cage. “You served your purpose well, my little friend.” With affection, he held the creature in front of his face.
“All I know is they stink,” Hwang frowned. He stood and holstered the large hunting knife into its sheath strapped to his back.
Suk put the ferret back in its cage. The wall of caged ferrets erupted in a choir of chortling and clucking sounds, anticipating their breakfast.
“Shut those things up while you’re at it,” Hwang groused. “I’m going to find Cho.” He left the room, slamming the door.
Suk looked around the room. He was going to feel sad to leave this place. He had more freedom and autonomy here than ever in his life. In this place, he was the decision maker. The hard part had been keeping Cho and Hwang in check.
Suk trained in microbiology in London, but he liked Guatemala, especially its Gallo beer. He had rented a house in San Benito on Lake Petén Itzá four years earlier because of its proximity to the old Maya ruins in Tikal and the villages in northeastern Guatemala. It was the perfect location because it held the only other international airport in the country, aside from Guatemala City.
He had not been back to North Korea for eleven years—not long enough to forget how difficult life was there. He shuddered to think of going back.
Maybe I’ll be reassigned somewhere else.
As he walked down the row of cages, pouring food into the dispensers, the ferrets settled.
“I guess I’ll release you guys before we go,” he said to the small weasels.
They had been perfect hosts. Hosts for the virus.
He wondered about his longtime mentor, Professor Kwon, the one person he missed from North Korea. He had no idea if Kwon had received the vial of ferret blood or his note.
I hope the Professor is pleased.
Professor Kwon was a decorated national hero, developer of all of the biological warfare for the country. He had overseen the development of thirteen different biological agents that could be weaponized, including anthrax and the plague. Kim Il-sung personally awarded him the country’s highest civilian honor for his work with smallpox.
Suk poured a little extra food for one of the large male ferrets.
Regrettably, six months after Kwon received the award, his uncle was caught with a counterfeit U.S. twenty-dollar bill he had lifted from the government-sanctioned counterfeit presses where he worked. The punishment was swift and firm. The entire family was rounded up and sent to the northernmost prison—Hoeryong Political Prison Camp. Kwon’s wife and three-year-old son had been included in the incarceration.
Suk vividly remembered that day. He was working alongside Kwon when the government police came into the lab to inform him of the arrests. Kwon was told that because of his status, he was allowed to remain in his position, but his wife and son were gone.
Kwon showed no emotion at the news, but shortly after they left, he collapsed. With over 50,000 prisoners and close to a fifty-percent mortality rate due to malnutrition, he doubted the family would survive. Suk had pledged to the professor that he would do anything he could to help exact revenge.
Suk opened one of the top cages and pulled out his favorite ferret. It purred as Suk nestled it against his neck.
Kwon’s genius had brought them to Guatemala as an NGO. The non-governmental organization was registered in Seoul, quite a coup in itself. It was called The Friends of Children Organization; FOCO was its acronym. It was well funded, ironically, with profits from counterfeiting.
Because Suk was not only a world-class microbiologist, but also a student of world history and war, it did not escape his attention that the foco theory details rebellion by way of guerrilla warfare—revolution accomplished using small, nimble rebel groups that provide a focus—foco, in Spanish—for popular discontent against a sitting regime.
I wonder which came first, the acronym or the name?
Suk replaced the ferret gently in its cage and filled its food dispenser.
Their NGO status gave them easy access to the villages of Guatemala. They had one of the most advanced well-drilling rigs in the country, and the communities welcomed them with open arms.
Hwang and Cho came through the door, interrupting Suk’s thoughts. Cho was shirtless and sweating. He had been working out on the heavy bag, and he began to unwind the wraps that protected his knuckles. He was a short, stocky man with a shaved head. His face and chest were covered with terrible acne, a condition made worse by Guatemala’s humidity.
With an abundance of food and beer. Cho had gained fifty pounds in Guatemala. He saw Suk staring at his big beer belly. He slapped his abdomen with both fists. “All muscle, you geeky scientist.”
Suk watched Cho flex his biceps in the mirror hanging in the entryway. They would betray him in a heartbeat, and he was constantly on guard.
Hopefully, I won’t have to put up with these two much longer.
“We should be going,” Suk addressed them both. “We still have work to do. Do you have the spraying equipment ready?” he asked Hwang.
“Where are we headed today?”
“We will be going south, to the village of La Libertad.”
“How much longer until we leave Guatemala?” Cho asked, pulling on a shirt.
“I suspect three months, if they received the vial.”
CHAPTER 25
* * *
Freedom
Nick dabbed Maria’s head wound with gauze soaked in hydrogen peroxide. She pulled away in pain.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s pretty sore.”
He was trying to remove a large clot of blood around the sutures.
Nick looked at Anna. “This thing was so dirty, I’m afraid it’s going to get infected if I’m not pretty aggressive with keeping it clean.”
“Try to hold still while the doctor looks at your wound,” Anna told her. “We don’t want it to get infected.” She held Maria’s shoulders and translated for Nick.
“Thank you for taking care of me, doctor, but do you think you will be able to do anything for my son?” Maria asked through Anna.
Nick searched her eyes. There was such a sincere depth to her request that it made it difficult for him not to empathize with her.
“Well, there is a chance. I usually don’t do that kind of surgery, but I talked with a friend in Seattle, and he may come down to help. I can’t guarantee anything yet.”
Anna continued to translate as Maria took Nick’s arm. “Thank you for trying, doctor. I cannot repay you for your kindness.”
“You certainly have a lot of courage,” Nick said as he snapped off his exam gloves and tossed them into the trash can near the exam table.
“I took little Danilo to the government hospital, but they told me that I would have to pay for the supplies for the surgery and for the hospital stay. His father and I tried and tried to save enough money. There was never enough. I think my husband was hoping he would get paid well for his last job.”
“What was his job?”
“He was a tour guide for the ruins in Tikal. His father was the same, so he grew up doing that. He knew so much about the Mayas and the ancient ruins.”
She continued to wring her hands, and Nick could tell the discussion was difficult. But he encouraged her because he was anxious to get more information about John’s death. Maggie had not told him very much. After a brief investigation, Maria told him, the police had closed the case. They believed Dr. John was in the wrong place at the wrong time, apparently something that happened all too frequently in the c
ountry. They did think it was odd how the doctor had been killed, but because the presumed murderer was found dead himself, they had nothing to go on. The rain had washed away all traces and clues. Therefore, the case was closed.
Maria seemed to read Nick’s thoughts. “Danilo was an honest man. You have to believe me. He was a kind man. I never saw him cheat anyone. He was not a violent man.”
Nick sat back in his chair, glanced at Anna, and pressed on. “Where do you live?” he asked Maria.
“We live in El Remate, south of the ruins.”
“How far away is that from here?”
“It is very far, maybe two days on the bus.”
“Did you ever see Dr. John there?”
“The police asked me the same thing. They showed me his picture, and I had never seen him before. We get lots of tourists there, I don’t pay them much attention.”
“Why do you think Dr. John and your husband were out there together?”
She looked him straight in the eyes without blinking. “I don’t know, doctor. I wish I did. Maybe he was giving him a tour? Maybe they ran into the drug cartel? I just don’t know. None of it makes sense to me. All I know is, Danilo could never kill anyone.”
Sweat formed on her upper lip and forehead, and she trembled. “Really, that is all I know. I have been very afraid that, whoever they are, they would come for little Danilo and myself.”
Anna wiped Maria’s brow with a cloth.
Nick rubbed his eyes and crossed his arms.
Had he really lost his best friend from some senseless act of violence? What was John doing in that part of Guatemala anyway?
He stood, as if to conclude the interview and told Maria, “I know this is hard for you, I am sorry for your loss.”
“You were friends with Dr. John?”
Nick nodded. “Yes, he was my friend, my best friend.” He decided he couldn’t talk about it anymore and headed to the door. Holding the doorknob, he turned back to Maria and Anna. “Did you say that your husband told you he was being paid well for his last job?”
MAYA HOPE, a medical thriller - The Dr. Nicklaus Hart series 1 Page 16