Authors: Denise Kahn
BAGHDAD
CHAPTER 36
Sam gathered some groceries and her medical bag and went to the jeep parked in front of the tent. She looked at the horizon which reminded her of the unique pastels of peaches and baby blues of a New Mexico sunrise. She put the bag and the box of groceries in the jeep and headed toward Baghdad.
She arrived at Hamid’s Aunt’s house, took her bag out and knocked on the door. Fatima slowly opened it a crack. When she saw Sam her face immediately lit up and beckoned her inside.
“Come in, Sam, it is cold outside.”
“Cold?”
“Very!”
“Not when you’re from Boston. This is a heat wave,” Sam chuckled.
“Here it is cold,” Fatima insisted.
“Okay, it’s a little cold. How is Hamid?”
“Much better, thank you. Hamid! Come! Sam is here.”
Hamid came running from another room, saw Sam, and hugged her. “Sam!” He almost toppled her over.
“Hello, Hamid, how’s your arm?”
“Good! Look!” The boy proudly displayed his arm for her to see.
“Oh, let’s take a good look at it. Does it hurt?”
“Only a little.”
“Good. And every day a little less?”
“Yes.”
Sam sat him down on a chair, took another one for herself and placed it facing the boy. She slowly unraveled the bandages. The wound looked clean and was healing nicely. She went into her bag and brought out a new bandage and slowly rewrapped his arm. “There, all done. A couple more weeks and it will be like new.”
“No more pain?”
“No more pain.” Hamid gave her a huge smile. Sam turned to Fatima. “I have some groceries in the jeep, I’m just going to get them.”
“No, no, I will get them. You stay here.”
“But it’s cold outside.”
“No, no, I will get them.” Fatima was being stubbornly gracious.
“Well, at least take my jacket,” Sam said, taking it off and helping Fatima into it.
“Okay, I’ll be right back.” Fatima walked out of the little house to get the bags from the jeep. As she leaned in to pick them up there was a thunderous explosion, powerful enough that it overturned the jeep, blew out the glass in the house and shook the earth so forcefully that people on the other side of the street were thrown to the ground. The Iraqi woman never saw the insurgents target the jacket she was wearing with the RPG, the rocket propelled grenade.
Sam and Hamid were on the floor of the once pristine little house. She quickly looked for the boy. He was face down on a carpet.
“Hamid, are you alright?” He didn’t answer. Sam looked him over quickly. He didn’t seem to be hurt. Sam shook him. “Hamid! Hamid!”
The groggy boy mumbled. “Sam?”
“Yes, it’s me. Are you okay?”
“I think so.” His voice just a whisper.
“Oh, my God, Fatima!” Sam exclaimed. Hamid’s eyes grew very wide. “Stay here,” she ordered. Sam rushed to the window, being careful of the thousands of shards. She carefully peered out the window, saw what was left of the jeep, the street and Fatima. She cringed at the devastation. That should have been me. I’m so sorry Fatima. She also saw four men with AK47’s running toward the house, their faces menacing, and their intentions clear. Sam rushed to Hamid and pushed him toward the back of the house. “We have to leave, now! There are bad men outside who want to hurt us.”
“And Fatima?”
Sam didn’t have time to tell him gently. “I’m sorry, she’s dead. Now let’s go!”
In a split-second Hamid seemed to mature and his brown eyes turned almost black. He’d been through this before, with his parents. Now, the bastards had taken his Aunt. He tried to get Sam’s gun out of the holster. “I’m going to kill them, like they killed Fatima.”
Sam quickly stopped his little hand and pushed it away from the 9mm pistol. “No, Hamid, that’s not the answer. Besides there are too many of them. Now, come on, we have to get out here!”
“I know a way,” he said leading her out the back door.
Sam knew she wouldn’t have a chance against the four menacing men. She might have managed one or two, but the others would surely kill her and Hamid. They quickly rushed out the back door, ran down a small alley and disappeared behind a set of bombed out houses.
♫
VIRGINIA
CHAPTER 37
The mansion sat on hill overlooking a beautiful valley with grass and a forest in the background. Davina and Alejandro had lived there since he was assigned to Washington as the Spanish Ambassador. It was also convenient for Davina. A quick flight could take her anywhere in the U.S. or to any point in Europe. She was at the top of her game and gave concerts around the world. But she hadn’t performed in months, save for a quick television appearance on the Tonight Show, Ellen DeGeneres,
Televisión Española
or France’s
TF1
.
Davina was having the same nightmare—the vehicle pulling up to the house, the two men coming to her door, giving her the news about Max. But wait, she wasn’t sleeping, or dreaming, she was very much awake standing behind the sheer curtain of the living room window. Her knees started buckle, her legs losing their ability to keep her standing. Her hand subconsciously grabbed the back of the chair next to her. It held her up. The nightmare was coming true. The black military vehicle was really stopping in front of her house. She could see the two Marines in the car. She recognized their hair cut.
No, no, the voice in her brain screamed, don’t you dare come out!
She of course knew they would since the mansion was the only home around.
Don’t be in blues, don’t be in your best damn, beautiful uniform!
She pleaded with the Gods in the Heavens, to any and all she could think of, of every religion or denomination. They were all One anyway, she concluded, or any One of them could help her. Either way, she prayed.
The Marines emerged from the car—they were not in their blues, and Davina finally exhaled. Max was not dead. She quickly thanked all the Gods. But her little boy was wounded, how bad was now the crucial question.
The Marines gave her the news. Max was at the military hospital in Landstuhl. Davina immediately called Alejandro.
“Alejandro, we’re going to Germany.”
“
Dios mio!
How bad?” Alejandro asked, immediately understanding what had happened. He ran out of the embassy, the cell phone still to his ear as he listened to what Davina was telling him.
♫
BAGHDAD
CHAPTER 38
Four soldiers in a Humvee were patrolling the streets in Baghdad’s early morning. Most of the houses and stores had been blown up. People were walking. Mothers held children’s hands, men were talking to each other and smoking cigarettes. Once in a while a dilapidated car drove by. They had heard an explosion and were headed for the area of the noise. They arrived in just a few minutes. Smoke billowed up into the atmosphere. Dark, ugly clouds of ash and dirt rising from the grotesquely deformed wreck of what once was a jeep. A crowd looked on. People were screaming, frightened. Some had cuts and the blood trickled down their faces and arms, others helped the wounded.
The soldiers looked around. The danger seemed to have subsided, the only remnants were the wounded, the jeep and craters where the walls of the house once stood. They also noticed a military jacket. It was torn to shreds and there were pieces of a dead body strewn all around. The war hardened soldiers still had a difficult time with deaths like these. They could comprehend bullets and their devastation to a body, but when all is left are little pieces of what once used to be a complete living person this still, and always, would leave them stunned. One of the soldiers saw a name on the torn jacket: Baxter. They also noticed that it was small—it had to be a woman’s. Another of the soldiers noticed a pin that was once attached to the jacket.
“Mother-fuckers!” He screamed. “This is supposedly a safe zone, and this was a nurse bringing supplies and checking out patients. She wasn’t even a combatant! This is what she gets for all the years of studying, caring and risking her life. Well she sure accomplished that last one! And she sure got a big thank you! Didn’t she?” The soldier ranted on, screaming at the top of his lungs to the blank walls of the houses, to all who were supposedly listening around him. His eyes were huge and round, red and crazed. His trigger finger on his M16 itched, trembled with the anticipation of pulling back the little lever, to get even for this nurse he hadn’t even known, to give her justice for the life that was cut short.
“Take it easy, Man,” another of the soldiers said.
“Let me just kill the mother-fuckers!”
“Hey, I said take it easy. These people didn’t kill the nurse. Get it together, Man.”
“Yeah, yeah, alright.”
“I just phoned it in. Apparently her name was Samantha Baxter. She was from the CSH.
♫
LANDSTUHL, GERMANY
CHAPTER 39
The Marine Corps provided transportation to Germany, but Davina and Alejandro graciously declined. They were, however, granted permission to land their private jet at Ramstein Air Force Base. Landstuhl Regional Medical Center, the largest American Military hospital in Europe was only a few miles away. They were greeted by the military delegates and driven to the to the medical facility.
A young officer escorted the elegant couple to Max’s room, but it was empty.
“Are you sure this is the right room?” Alejandro asked the Lieutenant escorting them.
“Yes, sir, that’s what they told me, but let me get more information. I’ll be right back.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Alejandro said.
The soldier left Max’s parents standing in the hallway.
“What does this mean?” Davina asked, worried.
“Now don’t worry, I’m sure they just moved him to another room.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Davina,
mi amor
, let’s just wait for a few minutes. I’m sure there is an explanation.
The Lieutenant came back. “Mr. Ambassador, Mrs. del Valle, your son is on another floor. I’ll take you to him.”
“Is everything alright?” Davina asked.
“I don’t know what his medical condition is, Ma’am, but the doctor will be able to give you any further information.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
“You’re very welcome, Ma’am.”
They met the doctor outside of Max’s room.
“I’m Doctor Levinson, Max’s physician.”
“Very pleased to meet you Doctor,” Alejandro said, “please, how is our son?”
“It’s an honor to meet you as well,” the doctor said. As you may know Max sustained an injury to his leg from an IED but the CSH in Iraq was able to…”
“Cash?” Davina asked.
“CSH, Combat Support Hospital.”
“Oh, I understand. Sorry, please continue.”
“They were able to save his leg. They operated, and did a great job. He had another operation when he arrived here and everything looks promising. He will have full use of it, although I don’t think he’ll be doing anything marathons any time soon.”
“That’s very good news, Doctor, thank you,” Alejandro said.
“It also means that he won’t be able to go back and serve.”
Davina was secretly thrilled at the news. Her little boy was safe and would stay out of harm’s way. “Can we see him, Doctor?”
“Yes, however, during the last operation there was a complication.”
“Complication?” Alejandro asked.
“I won’t get into all the medical details, but during the operation his heart stopped.”
Davina’s own heart stopped. “Oh, my God! What does that mean?”
“We were able to bring him back, and everything seems to be fine, but…” Davina braced herself. She knew there was more. “Your son is in a coma.”
Davina’s mind flashed back to her best friend Monique. She, too, had been in a coma, and it had lasted almost a year.
Alejandro looked at Davina. He knew exactly what she was thinking. He inwardly cringed at the memory at what they had been through, and for what he knew was ahead of them.
“So, as I said, physically he’s as well as possible, young and healthy.”
“You’re saying, Doctor, that you really don’t know when he will be out of this coma,” Alejandro said. He could feel Davina’s hand on his arm. He touched it, trying to comfort her in any small way he could.
“That’s correct, Sir.”
“May we see him?” Davina asked.
“Of course.”
The doctor led the way into the room. Max was laying peacefully in the bed, seemingly very relaxed and just asleep. Several transparent tubes hung from their posts and the drops flowed into his veins. They were keeping him alive. Davina was strong and stoic. She knew her son would come out of this, and she would do everything in her power to help the outcome. Alejandro was thinking the same thing. Both he and Davina had experience when it came to comas, and as bad as it had been with Monique he was now glad they had some knowledge.
Davina went up to Max, caressed his hand and kissed him on the cheeks. “Hello, Max. It’s Mom.”
“Basically we are just waiting for him to wake up, Doctor?” Alejandro asked, watching his son and wife.
“That’s correct, Sir. I’ll leave you alone with him. If you need anything the nurse’s station is just down the hall.”
“Thank you for everything, Doctor. I know you’ve all done your best.”
“Yes, Doctor, thank you.” Davina repeated.
The doctor nodded and left the room.
Alejandro went up to his son, and as Davina had, kissed him on the cheeks and held his other hand. “
Hijo mio
, you will be back with us soon. I promise!”
“I promise too.” Davina said, and looked at Alejandro. “Time to get to work.”
“Yes,” he simply said. He knew what the days ahead would entail.
♫