10:36 am—George Washington University Hospital Emergency Room
Life as a resident physician in an Emergency Room was not for the faint of heart, Jamie thought to himself as he walked out of the operating room after assisting in a successful three-hour operation to save a woman's leg after a bad car accident.
He wiped his face wearily as he pulled off his scrubs. It was time to go home after a long twelve-hour shift at the hospital. It was time to go home, hug his wife, and thank God that she was safe.
"Hey, King!"
Jamie turned around, surprised at the call from Dr. Walter Nguyen, one of the attending physicians. "Yes?"
"How are you doing?"
"I'm fine," Jamie said, mystified by the question.
"I know you just got off a twelve, so I won't hold it against you if you can't, but we need some extra help," the older man said with a more profound weariness than Jamie had felt himself.
"Of course," Jamie said with a nod. "What've we got? Car accident? Break in the gas line? What?"
"You haven't heard?" Dr. Nguyen asked, surprised.
"Heard what?" Jamie asked. "I've been in the OR for three hours."
Dr. Nguyen sighed. "There's been a plane crash."
Jamie's eyes widened. "Where?"
"The Pentagon. All of the area hospitals have been put on alert for injuries and casualties."
"The Pentagon?" Jamie asked in shock. "But—but my brother—"
"We might not see him," Dr. Nguyen assured with a practiced bedside manner that instantly calmed the younger doctor down. Then, his face darkened in serious consideration. "But it would probably mean better things for his prognosis if we do see him."