She shook her head. “I’m not sure. I’ve never seen that much blood before.”
Before he could respond, two men in police uniforms stormed into the small examination room. “Get away from that man.”
Shane rose and stepped in front of Kinley, shielding her from the newest threat. Until the men identified themselves, that was exactly how he would treat them. Sparing a glance at Oakley and Ghost, he saw they felt the same even though they had taken a step away from the driver. There wasn’t much they could do for him until the ambulance arrived anyway.
“Who are you? Who shot this man?” one of the men asked in heavily accented English.
“My name is Shane Ivers. This man is our tour driver. We were stopped on the road from Flores by four men with guns and he was shot while we were trying to get away.”
“You thinkbanditostried to kidnap you?”
Shane pointed toward the end of town. “We were attacked about fifteen minutes from here.” He didn’t know if the men they injured would still be on the road and it was better not to mention there might be bodies for them to find.
The two men spoke in rapid-fire Spanish, then one of them left. “You will come with me while we check your story,” the other said.
“There’s an air ambulance on the way to transport the driver to a hospital.” Shane glanced at his watch. “It will be here in less than five minutes. I’d like to wait until he’s loaded up and on his way.”
The officer scoffed. “There is no air ambulance available in this area.”
“Maybe not usually, but one is en route,” Shane said.
“Fine. Show me your passports while we wait.”
Shane glanced at the others who shrugged and shook their heads. “All our identification is in our bags, which are still in the van. It’s parked on the side of the building.”
The officer widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest. “Someone will get your bags while you are questioned.”
Shane leaned against the wall next to Kinley and matched the officer’s pose. No skin off his nose.
A few minutes of tense silence later, they heard the sound of a helicopter approaching. The officer’s eyes widened and his arms released slightly. The noise grew louder until gusts of wind blew in the still-open door to the clinic.
The police officer left the clinic and Shane followed. Outside, the civilian equivalent of a military UH-60 helicopter touched down in the middle of the street about fifty yards east of the clinic, its rotors still spinning.
A woman wearing a blue flight suit with a red cross on the breast exited the back of the helicopter and looked around. Shane raised his arms and waved them over his head before jogging to meet her halfway between the helo and the clinic.
“Shane Ivers?” she asked in a loud voice.
“Yes,” he said.
“Karen Abbot. Where’s the patient?”
He liked that she didn’t waste any time on small talk. “This way.” He cocked his head in the direction of the clinic.
A man exited the helicopter carrying a collapsible litter and followed them. Stepping inside the clinic, the woman asked, “What’s his status?”
Oakley went through the injuries. He’d been shot twice and the chest wound caused a lot of secondary damage.
Karen’s companion flipped out the litter and they loaded Jorge onto it, placing the bag of fluids on his chest once he was strapped in.
They followed the medics as far as the door of the clinic and watched while they loaded him. Karen waved before climbing in and slamming the door shut. They all turned their heads and covered their faces with their hands as the helicopter lifted off, its rotors kicking up dust.
“I need a drink,” Oakley said.
“You and me both,” Ghost said.
CHAPTER4
“Mr. Ivers?”
