by Ben Brown
“What do you think that’s all about?” Martinez asked as he watched the young man join in the excited exchange.
“Who knows?” Jacobson replied through gritted teeth. “Let’s find this doctor Oscar told use about. My arm feels like it’s going to explode.”
They headed off in search of both the building and the doctor.
It only took a few minutes to locate the building. Its large doors were open; both headed in without further delay.
The building consisted of one big room, packed tight with beds covered by mosquito nets. Nurses bustled between the beds, busily treating the sick and injured.
An old African man sat behind a large desk located at the end of the room. He rubbed his forehead as he read the papers that lay in front of him. Then, as if he had sensed the arrival of new patients, he looked up.
“Can I help you gentlemen?” he shouted in a rich, thick African accent. He didn’t seem surprised by their appearance; he didn’t even bother to stand. He was clearly used to receiving injured men this way.
“We’re friends of Oscar’s; we’ve both sustained some injuries that need medical attention, so he brought us to you,” Martinez replied.
The doctor stood and approached the pair, his arms outstretched in a welcoming gesture. Charles Annan was short and round, but full of energy. His smile filled his face as he approached.
“Oscar’s here? I thought I heard his helicopter. Where is he … ? Oh well, no matter; let’s get you two fellows seen to. It looks like you’ve been shot. Of course you have, of course you have.
“Nurse please fetch me the anti-biotic and some needle and thread.” Annan spoke fast. He didn’t seem to want either man to answer; rather he seemed to be thinking aloud as he rushed to their aid.
“Now I won’t ask what you’re involved in, because I really don’t care, nor do I want to know. However, I will ask that you don’t bring your problems here.” He eyed them both intensely and then continued. “If you have anyone after you, you must leave as soon as I have seen to your wounds. This is a place of mercy, not war, and I demand that it stay that way. Do we have a deal?”
Martinez shot a look at Jacobson, who simply shrugged and nodded. “We have a deal,” Martinez said. “We don’t intend to endanger anyone in this hospital. Jacobson and I would sooner leave now, unaided, than cause you, your staff or your patients any problems. We want our wounds tended to, and then we’ll be on our way.”
Annan looked at each of the men’s wounds as Martinez spoke.
“Good. Well, I’m pleased to hear that. Now, your injuries are superficial. My nurse will tend to you, she is very experienced, and you are in safe hands. Your friend, however …” Annan turned to Jacobson. “ … has a bullet lodged in his arm; I will need to remove it before I go any further.”
“Lucky me, I have the bullet, and you get the pretty nurse,” Jacobson joked, as the doctor guided him to a vacant bed.
Martinez followed as he waited for the nurse.
“Now my boy, I have good news and bad news. The good news is I can certainly help you, no question about that. You are strong and you will heal fast. The bad news is we have no anesthetic, and the bullet is lodged deep in your muscle. You will feel everything. I am sorry for this.” The old doctor patted Jacobson’s leg sympathetically. Annan seemed genuinely pained by his admission.
“Do your best, Doc, and I’ll try and do the same,” Jacobson replied, smiling at the old man.
Annan returned his smile.
A woman’s voice boomed out from behind them. “Here’s the equipment you need doctor, should I assist you?”
Martinez turned to see the approaching nurse. Jacobson also looked in her direction and choked on a barely contained snicker.
The approaching nurse was enormous and old. Her face was extremely wrinkled, and she appeared not to have any teeth. This apparently delighted Jacobson.
Maybe the bullet was the better option after all, Martinez thought.
“I’ll be fine, Thema, thank you. But I would like you to dress this gentlemen’s leg wound please.” Annan gestured towards Martinez.
She nodded her bulldog-shaped head as she placed the tray on the small table next to the bed.
Jacobson eyed the tray as the laughter in his face vanished. The equipment on the tray was positively archaic. The needle and thread were just that! The needle was a large darning needle and the thread was simply black cotton. There were an assortment of knives and clamps on the tray, as well as a small bowl of steaming water, a bar of soap, and a hand towel. However, the thing that seemed to alarm Jacobson the most was a dark piece of wood about six inches long. The wood was flat, no more than half an inch thick and about two inches wide. It was slightly rounded at each end; bite marks covered the grotesque object.
“What’s that for?” Jacobson asked as he pointed at the piece of wood. He tried to keep any nervousness hidden, but he wasn’t succeeding.
“As I said, we don’t have any anesthetics, and as for painkillers, all we have is Panadol. The wood is to bite down on as I carry out the procedure … oh … and of course we have this.”
The doctor reached into his pocket and pulled out a small hip flask; he unscrewed it and offered it to Jacobson. “We distil this stuff behind the main building, it’s very strong, and it certainly numbs the extremities.”
Jacobson took the small flask and swallowed a large gulp of the clear alcoholic drink. He instantly started coughing and gasping for air.
“God damn Doc, what’s in this stuff?” he asked in a husky voice.
The old doctor laughed. “Well, to tell you the truth, we use anything we can find. One batch might come from potatoes, and another might come from corn. Here, let me have a taste.”
The old man took the flask and poured a sizeable amount of the potent liquid into his mouth. He sloshed the drink around for a while and then swallowed. He slapped his leg as the burning fluid went down his throat.
“I’ll be damned if I know what this batch is made from,” he laughed. “I think it could most likely be petrol by the taste of it. Here, finish it all off. It will assist with dulling the pain, or at the very least it will send you blind.”
All three men were laughing now.
Thema just stood there, impassive. Her old, wrinkled face contorted as her toothless mouth worked away on some nonexistent piece of food.
Jacobson emptied the contents of the hip flask into his mouth.
Martinez knew that his friend hadn’t eaten in some time; he hoped the alcohol would kick in fast.
It only took about five minutes for Jacobson to show signs of how potent the alcohol really was. “Whooo wee! You need to try some of that stuff, Martinez, it’s some good shit!” His head lolled to one side, and his words slurred.
Annan began to wash his hands in the small bowl of water. He spoke quietly to Martinez as he washed his hands carefully. “I think your friend is ready. Place the piece of wood in his mouth then hold his arm very tightly. Thema is no longer strong enough for this next step.
“Now, you must hold his arm still; this is very important. He will struggle, but I must have that arm steady. Do you understand?”
Martinez nodded grimly as he reached for the piece of wood. “Come on, James, open up.”
Jacobson complied. His eyes seemed slightly out of focus, he seemed more than a little drunk.
Martinez, placed the wood in his friend’s mouth, and then took Jacobson firmly by the forearm and elbow. Martinez looked at the old African doctor. “I’m ready when you are, doctor.”
Annan nodded solemnly and began the painful procedure.
As Doctor Annan probed Jacobson’s wound with long surgical tweezers, Martinez struggled to keep his friend’s arm still.
Jacobson’s body convulsed as he bit down hard on the well-used piece of mahogany. His head pressed into the striped and stained pillow, which now absorbed all his sweat and pain.
Martinez watched the muscles in his friend’s neck tighten
to the breaking point, as his jaw bore down on the wood, which was now his only release. The excruciating pain seemed to tear through Jacobson in waves. The hardened soldier was used to enduring hardship, but this was pushing him to his limits.
“I’ve located the bullet; it’s deep and I can’t reach it with a clamp. I will need to widen the entry wound; that way I will get a good hold on the bullet. Are you ready, my friend?”
Jacobson nodded, his face bathed in sweat.
Thema began to mop his brow with the hand towel.
Annan looked at Martinez.
Martinez increased his grasp on his friend’s arm. He returned the doctor’s gaze with a simple nod.
Annan picked up a scalpel and plunged it into the wound — blood spewed from wounded man’s arm.
Jacobson’s body lurched involuntarily and rose into an arch.
Thema instinctively threw the full weight of her immense body onto his chest, pinning him to the bed.
Martinez struggled with his friend’s arm as Annan worked on the wound. Although Annan’s fingers were quite stubby, he worked with surprising dexterity and speed. It was clearly not the first time he had needed to cut into a conscious patient.
Jacobson’s head shot around to look at his wounded arm, his eyes wide and wild. Martinez felt a wave of emotion wash over him as he saw the pain in his friend’s eyes.
Martinez quickly regained control of himself. “James, don’t watch; it’ll make it harder for you. It will be over soon.”
Jacobson closed his eyes tightly as he turned his head away.
Annan reached over to the tray and placed the blood-covered scalpel into the bowl of water.
He then selected a surgical clamp which looked like a long pair of scissors; however, instead of blades, it had what looked like a set of needle-nosed pliers on the end.
Annan once again plunged the instrument into the wound.
Jacobson’s head pushed hard and deep into the pillow as he let out a muffled scream from between his clenched teeth.
Martinez turned his head. He was used to seeing horrific wounds but this was different. It was like watching someone being tortured; even though he knew it was for Jacobson’s own good, he still found it too hard to watch.
Annan probed deeper and deeper into the injured man’s arm.
Jacobson’s entire body was as stiff as a board as he screamed through his clenched teeth. Saliva sprayed Thema’s face, but she ignored it.
“That’s it, I have it!” Annan locked the clamp onto the bullet and placed his free hand on Jacobson’s shoulder. “Brace yourself my boy.”
Then, as if in slow motion, he pulled the bullet from the wound.
Jacobson’s reaction caused Thema to fly off his chest and land unceremoniously on the floor some five feet away.
Martinez simply couldn’t hold his friend’s arm any longer; it snapped back towards Jacobson’s chest. And then he was still.
Annan sat on the edge of the bed with the blood-drenched clamp in his hand. In the clamp sat the bullet. Both Annan and Martinez stared at the innocuous piece of lead.
“Thank God, he’s passed out. I will work as fast as I can — with a bit of luck, it will all be over before he comes to.” Annan worked at an amazing speed as he stitched the injured man’s arm.
Thema, who had managed to get back on her feet, now mopped the doctor’s brow.
Martinez just sat limp and drained in his chair.
“Martinez, do you hear me? This is Matt.”
Martinez jumped in his seat.
This startled the old doctor, causing him to drop his needle. He eyed Martinez crossly.
Martinez dragged himself from the chair and stumbled to the end of the room before he keyed his mike and replied, “Go ahead, Matt. What do you have to report?”
“Sorry it’s taken so long for us to report in, but Jason and I had to hightail it out of there just after you and the Captain left. Search parties were sent into the jungle looking for us … we only just made it, but I think we lost them.”
“Is Jason with you?”
“Yes, sir, we decided to stick together, just in case we needed to engage the enemy. But, sir, that’s not the worst of it.”
“Go on,” Martinez said as a feeling of fear invaded his stomach.
“Sir, they got Zac, there was nothing we could do. That limy bitch, Sinclair, the one who beat up the Korean, pumped him full of tranquillizers from his own gun. I wanted to put a bullet between her eyes, but I couldn’t get a clear shot. A second later, they started swarming into the bush, looking for us. I’m sorry, sir, I messed up, but I didn’t know what else to do.”
“No, Matt, you did what you had to do. You and Jason are both needed, so keep your distance for a while. When you feel it’s safe, head back and take up recon positions.
“And, Matt, you and that cousin of yours did one hell of a job back there. Well done.”
“Thank you, sir — Matt out.”
Martinez headed back to his friend’s bed. Annan was bandaging Jacobson’s arm, he was awake once more and he looked up at Martinez as he reached the bed.
“They got Zac. He’s alive but they tranquillized him, so I think he’s safe for now. After all, if they wanted him dead, he would already have a bullet in his head.”
Jacobson looked at his bandaged arm, and then back at Martinez. “Get your leg seen to, and then let’s go crack some fucking heads!”
“Hold on,” Annan interrupted, as he finished tending to Jacobson. “You’re not going anywhere; not for at least a few hours. You’ve lost a lot of blood and need some rest.”
“But, Doc,” Jacobson said. “If we don’t get back in the midst of things, our friend could wind up dead, and I’m not willing to let that happen. Screw my arm, he needs us.”
“The doctor’s right, James, we both need some rest. We won’t be any good to anyone in this state. Plus we need a plan; otherwise we’re all done for.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Jacobson grumbled. “But I still don’t like it.”
Martinez was surprised and pleased by his friend’s sudden willingness to do as he was told. He felt burnt out and he needed the rest, too.
23
Martinez sat by Jacobson’s bed as his friend slept.
Thema tended to his leg, which mainly needed cleaning and dressing. The old nurse worked in silence as she gently cleaned his wounds.
Martinez’s mind was awash with thoughts of Zac and his capture, Jacobson and his injuries. He worried about the Platt boys and their chances of capture.
Then his mind drifted back to Zac — what did Dominic intend for his friend? Would he kill him or torture him? Alternatively, would he try to control Zac, turn him to his will? After all, he had corrupted Lea. If Zac ended up aiding Dominic then the shit really would hit the fan.
Martinez turned his gaze to the old nurse. He watched her skilled hands as he struggled to keep his eyes open. He felt completely exhausted. His eyelids began to flicker, and then shut as his head dropped to his chest. Finally he surrendered to a restless sleep.
Martinez awoke with a start; he looked out the window — it was dark outside. He had clearly slept for a number of hours. He rubbed his neck to get a major crick out of it, then looked in the direction of the noise that had awakened him. It was Oscar, carrying a tray of food and drinks.
“Sorry I’ve taken so long to get back to ya with some grub, but you boys are quite the celebrities around here.”
Martinez looked at Jacobson, who seemed to be waking.
Jacobson raised himself up on his good arm, to look at Oscar. “Great! Chow time. I’m starving — I could eat a horse,” he said with a groan as he sat up. Martinez moved to help but Jacobson stopped him with a stubborn stare.
Martinez looked around for Annan and Thema. Neither were anywhere to be seen.
“If you’re looking for the Doc, he’s in the other building with all the others. You two are the main topic of conversation,” Oscar said as he set the tra
y on the bed.
The tray contained a selection of dried meat, bread, fruit, and nuts. There was also a glass jug filled with water. The food was simple but tasted like heaven to the two starving men. They ate ravenously as Oscar explained what had transpired while they both had slept.
“The guys I met when we landed are leaders from a number of surrounding villages. It would appear that quite a few members of their families have been going missing.” Oscar grabbed a chair and plopped down. “The people who were taken have been used as leverage to force the villagers into compliance by Dominic.
“Well, it would seem that Bosede Nwosu’s daughters were recently kidnapped. … By the way, he’s the head of the largest village in the area. He’s also the most influential village elder in the region. Everyone around here thinks the sun shines out of his ass, and I gotta say he is a top bloke. Now, it would seem that five white men rescued his daughters. One in particular ensured their safety.
“You two wouldn’t know anything about this would ya?” He raised his eyebrows.
Martinez and Jacobson looked at each other, and then looked back at Oscar. Neither said a word.
Oscar looked at them both and continued.
“Yeah I thought so. Well, it would seem he and his daughters are in the building just across from here, and he would like to meet the two of ya; he wants to thank ya in person. He’s got a lot of pull around here; I think it would be in your best interests to meet him.”
Martinez wiped his mouth as he finished his last mouthful of food. He looked at his friend who had also finished eating.
Jacobson simply nodded.
“Lead the way. We wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.” Martinez helped Jacobson out of bed.
Jacobson took a few seconds to find his feet as Martinez steadied him. A few seconds later, Jacobson straightened as he mastered his discomfort. Then the three headed off.
Oscar led the way as they headed toward a building that looked almost identical to the one they had left. The only difference was it was slightly smaller.
Martinez could see silhouettes of people through the windows. As they drew nearer, he could hear a lively and loud discussion taking place inside the building. He couldn’t understand what was being said, but it was clear that things were getting heated.
