Chapter 10

Netter was drifting on a happy cloud of morphia when the commotion shook him awake. It took him another moment to remember where he was and it was only the unusually bright light above and the smell of antiseptic in his nostrils that made him remember that he was laying on a gurney in the ER of the Mercy hospital. The voices that had shaken him awake were coming closer now and he could hear what they were shouting.

'Get him into the ER now'.

'Sats are low'

'BP 80 over 40. He needs fluids now'.

'Get me FBC, Us and Es, MCV, ESR and get 3 units of O neg. Type and cross match him'.

'Get the x-rays down here. I want head, chest and abdo plates stat'.

'His GCS was 8 and has since gone down to 6. He's got a bleed somewhere'.

'OK ok everyone out who doesn't need to be here. We need all the room we can get. Someone cut his clothes off and mind that leg and his arm huh?'

Netter wondered what poor devil was in such a state that even the hardbitten ER doctors sounded worried and couldn't help but be thankful that he'd got off with only a graze to his thick skull. He could hear curtains swishing and lower voices now as the nurses and doctors started to work over their patient.

'Anyone know his name?'

'No, he's a John Doe. He was pulled out of the lake by two old guys. They're waiting in reception. They're pretty shaken up. Christine's given them tea and sympathy. They saved his life for sure'.

'John Doe huh? Ok well, no relatives to notify for the moment. Jeez he's taken some beating! I can't get any breath sounds on the right side. He has a pneumothorax. I can feel crepitus. Get me a chest tube and needle. The chest cutters are busy in theatre'.

Hank heard more shuffling behind the curtain and then the clink clink of equipment being placed into a metal tray. The voices softened and quietened as he thought they'd started the procedure. But Netter wasn't really listening any more. His mind was working overtime now that he had some quiet. What had the doctor said? A John Doe pulled from the lake at lunchtime. A John Doe who had taken a severe beating? It couldn't be, could it? Well sure, the kidnappers would try to get rid of their captive, but the chances of him ending up in the next bed to the cop were slim to none.

Disconnecting himself from the sphyg. tube, but leaving the black cuff around his arm, Hank eased himself off the gurney, thankful that the usually over zealous nurses at least allowed him to retain his underpants beneath the thin, short gown. He'd had too many embarrassing experiences with the little night gowns in the past to enjoy them. He pulled the curtain between the two cubicles back slightly and peered around at the action taking place next door.

He saw two nurses, gowned and with masks over their mouths and noses and a doctor similarly attired and with a long metal needle just about to plunge it into the side of his patient under his axilla. But what staggered Netter more than the length of the needle or the deathly quiet in the cubicle was the sight of the matted, blood soaked previously flaxen blond hair.

He hitched a deep breath. Oh my God it was him! It was Ken Hutchinson, although he was hardly recognisable beneath all the blood and bruises. The young man was deathly pale and looked so much younger than his 21 years as he lay so still and limp on the table. He was about to say something to the doctor when his nurse entered his cubicle again. He turned, a look on his face which suggested he was a Weightwatcher caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

'Hank, you shouldn't be up' the nurse admonished. You need to rest for a while. That bullet may have only grazed you, but your body still needs time to adjust to the shock. What're you doing there anyway?'

'The guy next door. In the next door cubicle. Has anyone identified him properly?'

The nurse – Carole, he read from the badge on her top pocket – tutted. 'That's no concern of yours. And no, he had no ID on him when he was brought in'. She steered him back to the gurney and pushed him down until he was sitting on the edge, legs dangling. Deciding that was the best result she was going to get from the recalcitrant cop, she reattached the tube to the sphyg. and pumped it up to measure his blood pressure.

'I know who he is' Hank said quietly. 'I need to see him properly to make absolutely sure, but if it is who I think it is, we need to tell his family'.

Carole looked perturbed. 'You think you can identify him? I'll tell the doctor as soon as I can, but right now they're fighting to stabilise him. He's in a bad way'.

'I know, I saw' Hank grinned sheepishly. 'How long d'you think they'll be?'

She raised her eyebrows. 'Honestly? I can't say. He's badly injured and they'll have to stabilise his vitals before they can send him to the OR. Is he a friend?' she asked softly.

'What? Friend? Oh no. I mean, I knew him….knew the family…..but we weren't close. I don't think anyone's close'.

Carole gave him a sympathetic look. 'If you promise to stay put and stop taking constitutionals around my ER I'll tell the doctor as soon as I can'.

Hank put a hand on her arm. 'Thanks honey. I think he's gonna need all the friends he can get'.

Netter lay himself gingerly back down on the gurney and closed his eyes.

Shit what a mess he's in. You should'a got to him earlier, you fool. But how could you? You did your best. Well best aint good enough buddy. Look at the poor guy now. Hey, at least he's alive! In kidnapping circles that's a result. Yeah I know, but there's results an' results and right now I'd have preferred my "result" to be in one piece. Jeez you're hard on yourself Netter. Yup, that's what's kept me alive!

The noises from the next door cubicle started up again. All had been relatively quiet for a while, but now nurses were calling numbers again and although Hank was no medic, he'd spent enough time in emergency rooms to understand that things were beginning to look up for young Hutchinson.

'Sats are up. 69 percent and rising'.

'He's had one unit of O neg.

'BP still low. 90 on 70 but holding'.

'Is the OR free yet?'

'Five minutes more and we can get him up there'.

And then Netter heard Carole's voice low and intense. He waited and a moment later, the doctor, blood down the front of his gown and on the gloves still covering his hands. He smiled tiredly at the cop.

'My nurse tells me you may know who the man in the next bed is' he said.

'Yeah. I'm a cop. I was investigating a…..well. It doesn't matter. Most important is, I think he was involved with a case I was working'.

The doctor's eyebrows rose. 'He's a criminal?'

'Oh no no no. I was investigating a kidnap. I think he's the victim, but I need to see him properly to make the ID. Can I?'

'He's in a bad way. He's been pretty badly injured and I need to get him up to OR. He's unconscious at the moment, but we could use an ID. If you feel up to it….?'

Hank slipped off the gurney and padded behind the doctor to the next cubicle. The detritus of the procedures littered the floor, blood stained swabs and items of clothing left where they'd been cast down as the doctor fought to save the life of his young patient. Netter neatly stepped over the still wet shirt and stood by the side of the bed.

Ken was almost unrecognisable. The once handsome golden tanned face was a welter of cuts and bruises. Both eyes were swollen closed and dark blue bruises showed over both them and the left cheek. There was a large cut over the cheek and another leading from lip to chin. Further down, more bruises decorated the muscled chest which was now marred by the catheter leading from chest wall to vacuum jar dangling at the side of the bed. Both arms were punctured by needles feeding Ringers Lactate and another unit of blood into the injured body. It was obvious the left arm was broken, the wrist and forearm at odd angles to each other and both legs also appeared to be fractured. Ominously a trickle of blood ran from Ken's left ear to stain the white pillow ruby red.

Netter gasped, tears pricking at the back of his eyes. He angrily wiped a hand over his face.

Pull it together Netter! You've seen these sorts of injuries before. Yeah, but not on one so young!

Gently Hank reached out and put his hand on Ken's right arm, flinching as he saw that each of the fingers of the right hand had been broken. Bending forward he leaned on the gurney so that he could talk quietly to the young man.

'Ken? I don't know if you can hear me. You're safe. You're in the hospital and the Doc is gonna do everything he can for you. It's me, Hank Netter. The cop you saw at your house? I'm gonna let your Mom and Dad know you're safe ok? You're gonna make it kid, you just need to hang on. Ok? Just hang on'.

Surprisingly he felt a tiny answering squeeze on his hand although Ken was unable to open either eye. But it was enough to let Netter know that there was life in young Hutchinson yet.

'Ok Ken. You have to go with the doctors now. They're gonna make you feel better; take your pain away. Just hang in there kid and I'll speak to your Mom and Dad. Promise me you'll fight?' For some inexplicable reason Hank found that he needed to get that promise from the blond. He needed to let Ken know that there was someone there with him who knew him and who cared for him. He put his hand up to the cut and bruised forehead and gently stroked the matted flaxen hair. 'Just rest easy Ken. It's gonna be fine' he said as the orderlies came to wheel the gurney away.

The doctor stood by Netter's side. 'So he's Ken. Ken who?'

'Ken Hutchinson. He was a kidnap victim. I was investigating. Is he gonna be ok?'

'He has multiple injuries and its early days. But he has youth on his side. He should pull through, given time. Ken Hutchinson you say? Not the son of Dr Richard Hutchinson?'

Netter nodded his head, grunted at the sudden dizziness and made a mad grab for the chair to stop himself falling. He took a steadying breath.

'Uh huh. That's him. And I need to ring the Hutchinsons. They'll be mad with worry'.

The doctor out a hand on the cop's shoulder. 'No need to ring. Dr Hutchinson is here today. He has a full operating list. I'll go and tell him myself. You stay here and rest. I'll be back as quickly as I can'.

Netter sat down on the chair in the small cubicle, the exertions of the past days finally taking their toll. He felt dizzy and weak and sick, but also relieved beyond all measure that Ken had been found alive if not well. Now all he needed to do was to call in to his Captain and request another couple of days sick leave, go back and finish up the paperwork, and go on to the next job.

Authors note - Um...is anyone liking this? Haven't had many reviews so I was just wondering. If not, I could skip it and go on to part 3 - Partners