The discussion quieted when Martin reentered the conference room, bracing himself against the table. "My dad called. My brother Austin was shot at work." He pressed his lips together.
"Don't worry about what's going on here. Go. Be with your family. Keep us posted." Tate Webster gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
A look of concern was etched across Ian's face as he came into the room. "A Gulfstream is on the tarmac at Reagan waiting for you. You'll be there in two and a half hours. Ford, go with him."
"My go bag is in my office. Meet you in the garage." Ford darted from the room.
Chapter Three
Tuesday, July 9th, 1530 hours
Elizabeth stood ready. The adrenaline rush generated by word of an incoming patient with critical injuries sharpened her tired mind and body. The paramedics reported a thirty-two-year-old police officer was in traumatic cardiac arrest after being shot in his chest and abdomen. Violet eyes surveyed the room. "Ambulance is three minutes out. This is a Tier-1 activation. Kathy, as the charge nurse, notify the operating room. Where's the ER attending?"
"On a cardiac in room four," the nurse said.
"Are respiratory and anesthesia here?" Elizabeth asked.
"Anesthesiology, Pietra and I," Warren Chen said.
Each member of the team was identified, and assignments were made. "Kathy, notify security. This is a cop; expect a crowd. Call the chaplain and administration for the family. How much blood is available?"
"Ten units O neg on standby.” The nurse worked readying the tubing as Elizabeth pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Four units on the rapid infuser. Step back, everyone else; keep your voices down."
"Here they come," the head nurse announced. The doors flew open, and a paramedic performing CPR was straddling a blood-soaked man on a gurney.
"On my count. One, two, three. Cut this uniform off and bag his vest alone. Check his back. Search for other wounds." Elizabeth helped move him to the bed. "Page thoracic."
Her team worked as she watched from the bottom of the bed. An intern suctioned and inserted the breathing tube. "Airway cleared, intubating now." Bloody froth immediately backed up inside it.
Fellow George Keller ran the ultrasound device over his torso. "No cardiac movement. Fluid present in the chest; the right lung is collapsed. Left lung, partial collapse. Blood under the diaphragm filling the abdomen. Should we call it?" The police officer was dead by Dr. Knox’s and all clinical standards.
Not ready to pronounce him biologically dead, she remembered her time in Gaza. Soldiers came back under similar circumstances. Elizabeth hip-checked the bed, causing the heart to jump from the vibration. "See, movement. Pump that blood in. Continue CPR. Cool him down. Put that central line in."
"Dr. Reed?" the nervous fellow repeated.
"If you are having issues with my decision to attempt resuscitation, Dr. Keller, step out. Dr. Caine, step in. The time to discuss it is later."
"Thoracotomy tray." The chest saw turned on and off in her hands.
"Operating room is ready. Thoracic is busy. What do you need?" Knox approached the stretcher.
"Opening the chest. Cross-clamp the aorta, and then we roll. Randy, we need to put him on ECMO too," Elizabeth said.
Randy’s face contorted with a scowl, but his expression changed in a flash seeing the remnants of the officer's uniform. “Got it.”
"X-ray!" the technician shouted. Wearing a lead cape, Elizabeth didn't stop working.
"Blood in the urine," Keith Perry said.
A surgical tool spread the ribs apart, declaring the heinous damage from the bullets. Blood poured over Elizabeth's hands. "Heart appears intact. Randy, lift the left lung; can you palpate the aorta?" Pads absorbed the free-flowing blood.
"No." The squishing sounds of Dr. Knox's exploration of the open chest continued. "Wait. Got it, clamping now. Time?"
"15:37," the nurse recorded it.
Tiny fingers continued to massage the cop's heart. "Heart's filling."
A weak vibration bounced beneath Dr. Perry's fingertips held against the base of the patient's neck. "There is a pulse."
