"Dr. Knox will be mad." Hailey's lip quivered.
When Elizabeth's brow arched to a near perfect vee, the two male doctors backed up. "Dr. Ullman, why did you go to medical school?"
"To be a physician." The resident stared at her feet.
"Explain why our patient needs more testing and another operation." After listening to Hailey's explanation, Elizabeth's volume notched up. "With someone displaying symptoms like this, do you think Dr. Knox's poor frame of mind or the patient’s life is more crucial?
"Patient's life."
"Good answer. Make that call, assist Dr. Hall, and get me the tests. Be ready to go in one hour. One more thing." Nurses and other doctors stopped in their tracks. "No one is to refer to any patient by category again. They are all human beings, entitled to equal caretaking. Are we clear?" Diatribe complete, she spoke with the corrections officers. "Gentlemen, our patient’s condition necessitates major surgery."
The first guard nodded. "I'll notify the prison."
"Do all corrections officers carry those?" She pointed to the flashlight.
"Yes, ma'am."
Making the correlation, she wrote her orders and rushed to her office before she started the operation. From her bottom desk drawer, she pulled a list of other suspicious wounds and the photos. Everyone had circular bruises. Confirming they were transfers from Silverton jail, she googled the number and dialed.
"Infirmary, please. This is Dr. Elizabeth Reed from Horizon Hospital. An inmate came to us last night. I’m trying to find out any history you have, including how he was injured."
Trudy Saperstein, clinic nurse, was silent for a long pause. "Dr. Reed, according to our records, the prisoner you received was harmed during a fight with another con. Prompt arrangements for his transport were made after he was found."
"Is he having trouble with this other prisoner? Also, do you have any idea what he was hit with or how long the incident lasted?"
"I don't know. The chart says nothing more than you know." Trudy's cheery tone disappeared. "Give me your number, and I’ll ask the clinic physician to call you."
"Thank you." Elizabeth's phone chimed. The OR and her patient were ready.
Sergeant Austin Bailey walked the bank of the drainage ditch looking for clues about the identity and circumstances of the young child. An orange scrap of cloth—a piece of a prisoner’s uniform, caught his eye. He bagged it.
"Shit."
Another ten feet down the road, inside the trench, a naked, beaten man lay unmoving. He jumped down to assess whether he was alive or dead. At Austin's contact, the man groaned.
"This is Bailey. I need an ambulance for a wounded man right away; location is down the Jackson culvert." He shook the injured man’s shoulder, trying to wake him. "What's your name?"
"Ha...nk."
"Help is coming, Hank. Who did this to you?"
"Guar...ds...," he said before losing consciousness.
Austin swallowed back bile as he examined the man in an attempt to render first aid. Hank's ankles and wrists presented with handcuff marks, and there was evidence of a vicious sexual assault. A Be On the Lookout warning about three escaped prisoners was issued earlier that morning. He keyed up again. "What are the names of the three escapees?"
"Checking, Sergeant... Otis Frable, Ervin Pitts and Hank Price," a voice responded. "ETA on the ambulance is five minutes."
"Thank you."
Guards?Waiting with the man, he phoned his friend and colleague Shaun Murray. After it went to voicemail, he called his brother, Martin. "Bro, give me a buzz tonight. Need to talk to you about something." He cued his radio. "Dispatch...." A cloud of dirt moved fast toward him.
Chapter Two
"Good afternoon," Martin acknowledged the front desk staff in the modern, glass lobby of the DC Chase Group building. A keycard gave him elevator access to the penthouse. Retired Army specialist Karen Rhodes, his aide, sat at her post in front of PH3, the office for Chase Security International's new chief executive.
"Hi, boss.” She followed him through the door with files in one arm and a handful of messages in the other. "Qualification records for Echo, India, November, and Sierra arrived by courier." They were four of the specialized teams belonging to the Eagle’s Talon division. Those assigned were required to satisfy the same standards as the U.S. Special Forces. Missions could take them into harm's way. "Christian wants a callback about a few concerns. How was your morning off?"
"Great. What else?" ‘A few concerns’ likely meant some did not hit their minimum marks.
