SEIZED, A Romantic Suspense Novella (3 page)

Dr. Smith, Karen and Bill, the nurse anesthetist, all agreed. Finally, Hodges held out his hand once more and said, “Yes, now may I have the knife before the patient dies on the table?”

Karen slipped the knife into his hand.

“That policy is so needless when we can see the injury,” Hodges complained as he made the incision near the bullet wound on the patient’s thigh.

Judy called out the surgery start time and met Karen’s gaze across the OR table. They were thinking the same thing.
Arrogant surgeons ignoring policy was how patients ended up with the wrong leg amputated.

“I need saline, when you have a chance,” Karen said, giving Judy something to focus her aggravation on other than Hodges’ back.

“Got it,” she said and stepped out the OR door into the hallway. Snagging a bottle of saline from the blanket and fluid warmer, she hurried back to the OR, nearly stumbling over the mop and bucket of the housekeeping orderly.

He caught her by the elbows. “Careful, Ms. Judy.”

“Didn’t see you there, Paul.” She smiled as he released her. “Busy night tonight. Did they call you in, too?”

“Sort of was on my way in, anyway.”

Judy paused for a moment, watching him saunter slowly down the hall. Something wasn’t quite right with him. Then she noticed his attire. “Paul, you forgot your OR hat and boot covers.”

“I’ll get right on that,” he said, turning toward the exit doors where they were stored.

She shook off the odd feeling that he wasn’t his usual self today. Normally, Paul was quiet and courteous, almost to the point of being part of the scenery. Later, she’d have a talk and see if there was something wrong at home, but right now, she needed to get back in her case before Hodges blew his last fuse.

***

“Hemostat,” Hodges said, holding out his hand expectantly.

Karen slapped an instrument into his hand, her gaze meeting Judy’s over the table then she looked at the clock. Judy knew what she meant.

Twenty minutes to midnight. They’d been at this for nearly two hours and the surgeon still wasn’t near closing.

Hodges loved to teach the residents as he worked. Problem was the man couldn’t talk and stitch at the same time. He also loved the sound of his own voice. Apparently the bullet had torn through the Sartorius and Rectus Femoris muscles, narrowly missing the femoral artery, before lodging near the Femur. Compounding this was all the scar tissue from a previous car accident and it was a slow process to remove the bullet. Hodges usually allowed the resident to do the sewing, but since this was the son of a state senator, he was insisting on doing the entire repair himself.

At this speed it would be another hour before the case was finished, then she and Karen had to tear down the room so Paul could get inside and clean it. Judy knew she’d be lucky to get home before 2 a.m.

The OR door opened and everyone looked to see the charge nurse Lydia peeking in from the other side. She motioned for Judy to join her and the team returned to their task.

“What’s up?”

Lydia nodded at the OR table. “How close are you to being done?”

Judy rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. “He isn’t even at the fascia yet. Probably another hour.”

“Geez.” Lydia shook her head, the unspoken
what’s taking so long?
passing between them.

Judy shrugged. She was already in trouble for talking about Hodges, she didn’t need him more pissed off and accusing her of gossiping with the charge nurse during a case.

“I’d hoped to get you out of here as soon as we were done with the other cases, but I had to send Rita to the ER. She started puking up her guts before the end of their case.”

“So much for flu shots.”

“Tell me about it. Staff have been dropping like flies around here all week.” Lydia glanced at the clock. “Any chance you can stay to finish this case? The scheduled crew is just now getting their dinner break.”

“Sure. Might as well finish this case. No use in punishing anyone else.”

Lydia laughed. “Thanks. I’ll have someone help you transport him to recovery once you’re done. Just call me, ok?”

Judy agreed, closing the door and going back to her charting. At the rate Hodges was going she’d have all her paperwork finished and still have time to spare. As she charted the times for the surgery, she listened to Hodges drone on about how important it was to get the knots perfect so none would slip lose or bleeding could reoccur, thereby necessitating further surgery. Next he’d be giving poor Dr. Smith a complete history of modern surgery and they’d never get out of the man’s thigh, let alone the OR.”

Stitch,” he called out again, holding his hand for Karen to slap the needle driver into his palm.

Karen winked at her and she tried to stop from giggling. Karen was adding a little extra force to those hand slaps.

A moment later, the OR doors opened again.

Judy looked over to see the orderly standing inside the room.

“We’re not ready for the room to be cleaned, Paul.” She said, hurrying over before Hodges realized the man still wasn’t wearing a hat or shoe covers, or a mask—a breach of protocol while the patient’s wound was still open.

“Get that man the hell out of here! He’s contaminating
my
OR,” Hodges bellowed, holding the suture straight up and staring at Judy over his mask and bifocals.

“I am.” She turned her back on him and tried to usher Paul back through the doors of the surgical suite, but for some reason he wouldn’t budge. “Seriously, Paul, you’ve got to get out of here until we’re finished.”

“He’s finished now,” Paul said softly, but something in his eyes, the way he stared past her at the surgical team sent shivers over her.

She grabbed him by the arm, but he shook her off and raised his other arm, pointing a gun at Hodges.

“I said you were done, Doctor.”

Chapter Two

J
udy froze, trying to think what to do.
Panic is never your best first option
, she remembered her favorite nursing school instructor telling her, followed quickly by Dave’s,
Never argue with a man pointing a gun at you
.

“What the hell?” Hodges sputtered, holding the needle in the air, mid-stitch.

“Shut up, Doc, and get away from the table.” Paul moved farther into the room, his gun still aimed at the surgeon. “Everyone get against the wall.”

“You’re crazy if you think I can move now. I’m right in the middle of surgery.”

“You’ll move or I’ll put a bullet through your brain,” Paul said in a steady, controlled voice, the kind Judy had heard from her husband when a topic wasn’t open for discussion. “Now move.”

This time, Hodges, Karen and Smith obeyed, moving away from the sterile field.

“You too, Ms. Judy.”

With a quick glance at the anesthetist, Judy inched her way backward and sideways to block the orderly’s view of Bill turning off the highly explosive anesthesia source, Desflurane, and lowering the oxygen-to-room-air mixture. The anesthesia machine would keep breathing for the patient and keep him sedated, at least for a while. Holding up her hands, palms outward, in a sign of submission and drawing the gunman’s attention to her, Judy tried to reason with him. “Paul, you really don’t want to hurt anyone, do you?”

“You too, Bill, get away from the table and leave the son-of-a-bitch to bleed out,” Paul said, answering Judy’s question. He intended for the patient to die.

As she backed farther away, she looked for Paul’s name badge, but didn’t see it on him. Great. He’d pocketed it after getting into the department. What was his last name? She started thinking of last names starting with A, quickly going through the alphabet. Nothing. Then she hit M. Milk. No, it rhymed with Milk. Bilkes? No. Wilkes, like John Wilkes Booth, the guy who shot Lincoln.

“Ms. Judy, I want you to take that pink sticky tape you nurses call medical duct tape, and bind each of their hands behind their backs.” He motioned to the anesthesia cart near the head of the table.

“Please don’t do this, Paul,” Judy begged as she grabbed the pink roll and headed around the table, accidentally catching the medication door with her elbow. “If the patient dies, you’ll be guilty of murder.”

“I’d call it justice. Hurry, we don’t have much time. Start with Hodges. And bind him below the gloves.”

“What do you mean? Are we on a timeline?” she asked as she pulled the gloves down on the surgeon’s hands and loosely wrapped the tape around his wrists. Remembering what Dave said about his hostage negotiation training,
Keep the terrorist talking, try to keep them calm and get as much information as you can
. “Are you expecting something else to happen?”

“Stop stalling and get on with binding them.”

After she had the surgical team all bound with their hands behind them she moved over to Bill.

“Hey, man, let her do mine in front, just so I can keep the patient stable. It’s my job to keep him breathing.”

“I think not. Not that it’s going to matter much.”

Judy exchanged looks with Bill, who glanced down at the drawer of meds she’d opened earlier. The vial of Succinylcholine was in plain sight. He nodded slightly as she bound his hands loosely, understanding using it to knock out the gunman might be their only hope.

“Let me warn you,” Paul said from right behind Judy, startling her. “Do not get any ideas about hitting that Code Blue button,” he said, nodding beyond Paul to the blue button on the wall. “The last thing any of you wants is someone rushing through the OR doors.”

Something in his warning lay over Judy like a cold shroud. “Why? What have you done?”

“Simply wired all three doors to blow if anyone attempts to enter.”

“What? You’ll kill us all!” bellowed Hodges from the far side of the room.

“Where you’re concerned, Doc, you pompous ass, that’s always been the plan.” He raised his arm and shot the surgeon right between the eyes.

Judy jumped.

Karen screamed.

“Oh, my God,” Smith yelled.

“You bastard,” Bill said, narrowing his eyes.

“Now I suggest the rest of you understand this is not a game.” He grabbed Judy by the arm. “Come with me. Quickly, before anyone hits the main door to wonder at that gunshot.”

He hauled her through the OR suite’s doors and down the hall to the main entrance.

She could see people running towards the door. Glancing down she could see what looked like a pile of modeling clay molded around the two door bars, connected by multicolored wires.

Oh, God, if they tried to open them…

“Stop!” She waved her free arm as she shouted. “Don’t come in!”

Wilkes stopped her right in front of the door. “That’s far enough.”

He stepped back and to the side, pointing the gun at her head so the others could see it through the window but not him. “Tell them not to let anyone in here, especially the sad excuse for security or the local police.”

At the mention of the police, Judy knew what she had to do. Thankfully her earpiece was on the far side from Wilkes. Holding both arms up as if signaling the people on the far side of the door to stop, she pulled down her mask with one hand and tapped the dial button on her wireless earpiece twice with the other one—on the side away from her captor.

***

The guys were just settling up the betting and reorganizing the room when Dave’s phone vibrated on the table.

“Oh, man, the woman is psychic. Probably wants to remind us to wrap the leftovers and not to spill any beer on her brand new carpeting,” Luke said.

“Too late. You already did that,” Matt said, shoving their youngest brother sideways.

Dave gave his brothers a warning glare. “Hey, babe,” he said as he held the phone to his ear. “What’s up—?”

“Listen carefully, Lydia” she said, as if talking to someone else.

“Lydia? Did you dial the wrong numb—”

“Dr. Hodges is dead. That’s the gunshot you heard.”

“Gunshot?”

All the men in the room froze. Dave hit the speaker button on his phone and set it on the counter of the bar so they could all hear. Gripping the counter with both hands, he willed the sudden rush of fear to ease its stranglehold around his heart.

“The rest of our team, all four of us are okay and the patient is stable. Mr. Wilkes is in charge and he’s wired a bomb to the doors. If anyone…and he means
anyone
…tries to come in, all three entrances will blow.”

His knees wobbled when he heard the word bomb. “You’re telling me there’s someone holding you hostage? In the OR?”

A deep voice spoke off in the background, too muffled to make out his words.

“Paul says you have ninety minutes to clear the patients out of the hospital.”

Matt dropped the poker chips and pulled out his phone. Dave could hear Jake also talking on his phone, probably to his sister Sami. They lived on the next block over. Luke pulled his ever-present laptop out, while Castello, pad and paper in hand, leaned in to hear what Judy was saying and take notes old-school style.

“What else does he want?” Dave asked, trying to control the panic surging through him. He needed to remain calm or his woman was dead.

“Mr. Wilkes wants to be sure the SWAT team knows if he sees them or any cop, he’ll trigger the bomb early.”

Good girl. She’d mentioned his last name twice. He glanced at Luke, who was already typing the assailant’s name into his computer.

“Keep him talking, babe. Can you tell us what he’s planned?”

More deep rumbling sounded in the background.

“Lydia, he knows the media are already all over the place in the ER. He wants someone to find Senator Klein and make sure he gets here. You have twenty minutes. Then meet us back at this door. Remember, no one is to try and get in here.”

“The guys are still here and we’re leaving now. We’ll figure out how to get you out of there, I promise.” He looked at the seriously concerned features of the men surrounding him. They all knew he’d just made a promise he might not be able to keep.

“Judy, I’m going to disconnect now to save your battery life. Don’t panic. Stay calm. Keep him calm. I’ll call you once we’re there. I love you, babe.” He nodded at Jake to hit the off button, his body shaking too much to do it.