Chapter 13

Dr Richard Hutchinson walked calmly down the corridor, greeting work colleagues as he went past and graciously accepting the well wishes of the various men and women who had heard his son was in the hospital, or had cared for the young blond. He didn't rush. He and his wife were feeling relaxed and mellow. The conference in Atlanta had gone well and after his keynote speech to a group of eminent surgeons and rich industrialist, he'd managed to secure a grant of $2million for Mercy Hospital to further his research into something he called keyhole surgery. He was in no hurry. He was noted for not hurrying. Although some said that ice water rather than blood flowed through Dr Hutchinson's veins, those same people admired him greatly for his skill as a surgeon and his ability to keep himself calm and collected when all around him may be panicking.

The doctor and his wife turned the corner of the corridor and headed down to Ken's room. They'd been kept appraised of his progress by telephone calls from the doctor in charge and were pleased that Ken was now off the respirator and had come round sufficiently to be able to utter a few words. Things were progressing well in Hutchinson Senior's eyes and he felt that even with the massive injuries the blond had sustained, he'd be back at his medical studies in reasonably quick time.

He saw the two dark blue uniformed orderlies go into Ken's room, thinking that maybe they were going to turn the young man. Even the great Richard Hutchinson however, was unprepared for the sound of three shots ringing out and reverberating down the corridor.

Quick as a shot he yelled for security and pushed his way through the stunned people in the narrow corridor to get to Ken's room.

Hank Netter heard the door to the room open. No big deal with that. There was always some doctor or nurse coming into the room to check on their young patient. In fact he wondered how they expected Ken to get any sleep at all with the number of times they interrupted him day and night. It was like the old hospital joke where the nurse wakes her patient to see if he wants a sleeping pill.

So the cop didn't look around. He continued his quiet, virtually one way conversation with the healing blond. Ken had woken periodically through the day and each time he seemed a little stronger. But the injuries to his chest and the bruises across his abdomen made talking hurt, and so Netter babbled on while the crystal blue eyes watched him contentedly. Now, those same baby blues looked up momentarily. But instead of the usual calm acceptance that another needle was about to be plunged into him, Netter saw a look of shock and fear.

The cop swirled around quickly, taking in the sight of the two men, guns pointing at him and his new friend. Like a python striking at a mongoose Netter's hand went for the gun he carried wedged into the waistband at the back of his jeans. He dived forward as the first shot rang out, blocking the path to Ken's bed and his finger squeezed reflexively on his own trigger as first Johnny gasped and fell backwards and then Damon clasped his upper chest and staggered back from the room.

Dr Hutchinson bolted into the room just as one of the hospital's security guards bore Damon to the ground in the corridor and kept him there. The doctor ran into the room, his usually cool calm exterior gone for a moment as he looked at the sight in front of him.

Ken lay still in the bed, his chest covered in blood. On the ground by the door, Johnny's body gave one final twitch before the light of life fled from his staring, shocked eyes, and Hank Netter lay sprawled across the bed where he had flung himself to protect Ken.

Hutchinson senior crossed the room in two strides coming to a stop by the side of the bed. He looked down at his blood soaked son and was relieved to see that Ken's eyes were open and staring back at him. The blood down his naked chest was not Ken's

'Hank' Ken whispered and put his hand on the cop's back. Gently Richard pulled Hank's limp body from its resting place over Ken's legs and gasped at the bloom of ruby red blood staining the front of Netter's shirt.

In the heat of the moment, as he'd seen Johnny aim straight at the bed bound blond, Hank had taken aim and fired. At the same time, he'd launched himself in front of the speeding slug. As Johnny fell to the floor in his death throes, Hank collapsed over Ken's broken legs and remained still.

Dr Hutchinson gently pulled back Hank's shirt from the bloody wound on his chest. The neat, round, burn marked hole looked precariously close to the cop's heart and even Ken could see the ominous blue tinge to Netter's lips and eyelids. Dr Richardson pulled those eyelids up and looked into the rapidly glazing eyes.

'Dad?' Ken whispered. 'Save him….please Dad. Please s save him. He's m my friend'.

Hutchinson senior gave his son a questioning look then slipped back effortlessly into his surgeon's persona.

'Lets get this man into OR now. He's need bloods and make sure Khan is here. I want him to assist. Come on people move! Every second counts'

A nurse bustled into the room, neatly stepping over the thugs' body at the door without a second look. Hutchinson looked at her. 'Keep pressure on that and….. damn, he's arrested! Get me a gurney and a crash cart stat'.

Ken lay amidst the noise and chaos in the room, his heart in his mouth. Although from his own studies he knew what was going on, his injuries meant he could do nothing but lie still and watch as the professionals went about their business.

An orderly wheeled a gurney into the room as another pulled Johnny's dead body to one side. Together the men pulled Netter's limp body onto the gurney as anther technician brought in the crash trolley and started getting the machine ready. Hutchinson ripped open Netter's shirt and placed gel pads on his chest.

'Charging to 200. Clear'. There was a zap and a fizz as Netter's body arched off the trolley then settled back. A nurse pushed a mask over his mouth and continued giving the cop breaths as Hutchinson searched for a beat on the oscilloscope.

'Again people. Charging 200. Clear'. Again the body arched and dropped back, but this time there was a reassuring bleep on the monitor and everyone relaxed marginally.

'Sinus rhythm restored' the nurse reported quietly.

Dr Hutchinson looked around. 'We've got him back. Now let's get him up to theatre. He isn't out of the woods yet'.

As the nurse and orderly started to wheel the gurney away, Ken looked at his Dad with imploring eyes. 'S save him?' he whispered.

'I'll do whatever I can, son' the doctor said as he followed the gurney out of the room.

There was silence for a moment. No-one spoke. The chaos of the past few minutes seemed like a blur now, but eventually Chancita, who had been coming into the hospital when Netter had been shot walked to Ken's bedside.

'It will be OK Muchachita. Your father is a very clever man. If anyone can save Hank he can. Try not to worry Nino. He'll be as good as new. See, you're Mother is here'. The maid stood to one side as a pale and shaking Mrs Hutchinson stood unsteadily by the bed.

The exertions of the past moments had worn down the young blond's small reserves of energy and now he'd fallen into semi consciousness. He moaned softly, his head rolling on the pillow and sweat started to bead on his forehead. His eyes were closed and he moaned quietly, the words making little sense.

'Mmmnn…..no….don't…..no more, please?...Hank…..Hank nooo….oh God….'

Ken's mother looked at her son, unable seemingly to know what to do. Her hand twitched by her side as though she wanted to reach out and comfort her boy, but she resisted at the last moment. Finally she seemed to reach a compromise and leaned closer.

'I'm sure it'll be OK Kenneth. Just um…..try to sleep' she said before turning to the maid. 'Are you going to stay with him?' she asked.

Chancita kept her face impassive. Years of watching the awkward interactions between Mrs Hutchinson and her offspring had made her immune to the woman's seeming cold heartedness. They had always provided for both Ken and his sister in a monetary way, but any emotions were kept strictly private.

'Si Seniora. I will stay' she said softly as Mrs Hutchinson left with barely disguised relief on her face.

The maid leaned over the feverish body on the bed and gently stroked his golden head.

'Sssh mi niño. Chancita está aquí, y todo va a ir bien' she crooned and slowly, Ken stopped his fevered thrashing and seemed to listen to her familiar voice. Throughout the rest of the day, she stayed by his side as his eyes flashed open occasionally, locking onto hers before he relaxed and drifted back into his sleep.

Four hours later, Dr Hutchinson reappeared at the room his face lined with deep furrows and grey with exhaustion. He smiled at the woman by the bed.

'How is Senior Netter?' Chancita asked softly. She and the cop had become firm friends in the days when they sat by Ken's bedside and she hated the thought that Hank may have given his life to save her boy.

'I think he'll make it' Dr Hutchinson grunted. 'It was touch and go. I was able to…well, details don't matter. Suffice it to say he lost a lot of blood but he should make a good recovery'. He looked at the sweat soaked head on the bed. Ken was once again asleep, tossing fitfully on the soft pillow.

Richard Hutchinson raised a hand and placed it against Ken's cheek and forehead, not as a Father might do to connect with his son, but as a medic assessing the condition of a patient. Cold, calculating, aloof. He sighed. 'His fever's up. I'll get someone to come and adjust his medication. There's no need for you stay Chancita. He's being well looked after here'.

The maid smiled wanly. 'I have been here since he came to the hospital Senior. If you don't mind, I'd like to stay. I don't like to think of him being alone'. She said it pointedly but the sentiment was wasted on the older man.

'So be it. Stay as long as you feel necessary. I'll telephone tonight to enquire after him and I'll be back to see him tomorrow'.

'I'll be sure to tell him that' the woman said, settling back down to watch over her charge. As Hutchinson senior walked out of the room she started to mutter in Spanish under her breath. Never in all her working life had she hated the doctor and his wife quite so much as she did at that moment.