Chapter 86
The OR was a hubbub of activity as doctors and nurses scrambled to save Chris Larabee’s life.
The anesthetist finished intubating the injured man as a second IV line was inserted in Larabee’s arm. Two units of blood joined the bags of fluids and it was quickly
flowing into Larabee along with the IV Solution. A nurse attached monitoring equipment to his chest and finger as the vascular surgeon moved in.
Brandon Silverman knew he had to work fast. The IVs were running wide open and the patient had already received two units of blood. He knew Larabee needed
more as the blood loss reached critical levels. The shard of glass had been removed and he was working on closing the puncture. “I need suction, Now!” he ordered,
his soft tone belying the pressure he was under. This was why he’d become a vascular surgeon in the first place. The thought of saving a life when the chips were
down was something of an adrenalin rush and he excelled when things became critical. “How’re we doing? How’s the blood pressure?”
“Blood pressure is still low, Dr. Silverman,” a nurse called as a second one replaced the third unit of blood and switched the empty IV bag.
“Come on, Larabee, we’re almost there.”
“His blood pressure’s dropping, Doctor.”
“Get another IV into, him. Come on, Chris don’t give up on me now. Suction!” he hissed and smiled as the nurse was already doing it before the words were issued
from his mouth. ‘Pull him through, Brandon,’ he thought to himself as adrenalin flowed through his veins. “Come on, just a little longer,” he gasped slipping the
small graft over the edges of the artery and stitching it together. Got it,” he said as he released the clamps from both sides of the artery. His expert eyes searched the
repaired section, watching, waiting until he was one hundred percent certain there were no leaks. Finally satisfied with his handiwork he thoroughly checked the
surrounding tissue for any tiny glass shards or splinters that might be present. “Vitals?”
“Blood Pressure still low...”
Silverman heard the words and kept up the fast pace as the nurse continued to read off the vital signs. Once he was sure he’d cleaned the wound and there was
nothing left inside he began closing it up. He moved back from the table as he finished and allowed the second doctor, Mitch Dalton to take up where he’d left off.
Dalton was a renowned plastic surgeon and he knew what he’d need to do in this situation. Numerous cuts covered the patient’s chest, arms and legs, as well as a
two inch laceration above the left eye that would require sutures.
Silverman watched as his friend and colleague worked on the pale figure. Dalton was as meticulous as he was and he irrigated each wound no matter how big or
small. The unit of blood was once more replaced and Silverman realized they’d already put a total of six units into the injured man and would probably need another
two before Dalton was finished.
David Marshall, the same doctor who’d performed surgery on Vin Tanner when he was last admitted, was ready to remove the bullet from the sharpshooter’s back.
The final touches were performed and the anaesthetist signaled they could begin. The fluids overhead were being run wide open and a unit of blood was being
transfused into his arm.
Marshall carefully proceeded with the removal of the bullet low in Tanner’s back. He watched the monitor as he grasped the bullet and pulled it from the injured man.
“Looks like it’s nicked the left kidney! We’ve got a bleeder! Suction it!” he exclaimed as he repaired the damage wrought by the bullet.
“Blood pressure’s dropping!”
A nurse changed the empty unit of blood and quickly replaced it with a second one. Another nurse replaced the rapidly depleting bag of IV solution.
“Get more fluids into him. I’ve got to get the bleeding stopped! Don’t you go giving up on me, Tanner!” he snapped as he finished repairing the damage to the kidney.
“How’s he doing?” he asked worriedly.
“Blood pressure’s still a little low, but it’s picking back up.”
“Ok, people, let’s close him up. Keep the fluids going,” Marshall ordered. He breathed a sigh of relief as the final staple was placed and the wound covered in saline
soaked gauze. “Jesus this guy’s beginning to look like a human pincushion,” he commented softly, no humor in his voice.
“Dr. Marshall, how’s Vin?” Jackson asked as five men stood up in the tiny waiting room.
“Mr. Tanner is being moved to ICU right now. We removed the bullet from his back but there was some damage to the left kidney.”
“What kind of damage?” Jackson asked, knowing the others were leaving him to question the doctor.
“The bullet nicked the kidney and he lost some blood. We’ve given him a transfusion and we’ll be watching his renal function.”
“Can we see him?” Travis asked.
“Not yet. As I said we’re taking him to ICU and he’ll probably sleep most of the day. His aversion to anaesthetic is going to be watched closely as well. You’ll have
to wait until this afternoon to see him. I have to get back to my patient but please let the nurses get him settled and let him rest before you descend on the ICU.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Wilmington said as the doctor left the room. “Nathan, do you think Ezra’s awake yet?”
“I don’t know, Buck, but I was thinking someone should be there with him.”
“I’ll go, Nathan,” Dunne volunteered.
“Thanks, JD.”
“You’ll come tell us as soon as you know anything about Chris?”
“We will, Kid,” Wilmington assured him as Dunne hurried out the door.
Chapter 87
Ezra Standish was a man carrying a load of guilt and when JD Dunne walked into the room the guilt was evident on his pale face. He’d been told that Chris Larabee
and Vin Tanner were both being taken to surgery but nothing else as he’d slid into the welcome world of sleep before he could ask any questions.
“Hey, Ez, how’re you feeling?”
“I have an appalling headache, Mr. Dunne, but I deserve much worse.”
“What do you mean you deserve worse?” Dunne asked as he slid into a chair beside Standish’s bed.
“Have you had any news on Mr. Larabee and Mr. Tanner?”
“Vin’s being taken to ICU. Dr. Marshall removed the bullet from his back.”
“Will he be alright?”
“The bullet hit his kidney but the doc thinks he’ll be fine.”
“And Mr. Larabee?”
JD shook his head at the other man. “No word about his condition yet. Buck said they’d come let us know as soon as they heard anything.”
Standish rubbed his head, carefully avoiding the bandage above his right eye. “I made an intolerable mistake that may cause Mr. Larabee and Mr. Tanner their lives.”
“It wasn’t your fault Ez.”
“It certainly was. I was in charge of protecting Mr. Larabee and because of my negligence that miserable lowlife was able to get to him.”
“Ezra, I felt the same way the other night when Sharpe drugged me. If it wasn’t for me Chris wouldn’t have been subjected to that cattle prod again...”
“That’s completely...”
“Don’t you dare tell me it was different, Ezra, because that’s bull. I was supposed to be watching Chris and he still got to him. There’s no difference between what
happened to you and what happened to me.”
“There is...”
“No there’s not! Look from what we’ve pieced together with the police and Callie Willis’s statement Sharpe had a man waiting to grab one of the nurses in order to
pull the policemen away from Chris’s door.”
“He didn’t want to pursue the miscreant but I told him I could watch Chris.”
“If he hadn’t gone this guy would’ve killed the nurse. He’s got priors and a couple of convictions. He says he was supposed to be paid a thousand dollars to do the
job,” Dunne explained.
“How’re Callie and the other nurse?”
“They’re both fine and were sent home. Ez, don’t blame yourself. I know that’s hard but there was nothing you could’ve done differently last night just like there was
nothing I could’ve done the other night.”
“Mr. Dunne, I shall make no promises. I will however refrain from feeling guilty until we know whether or not I am responsible for Mr. Larabee or Mr. Tanner losing
their lives.”
“Go to sleep, Ez, I’ll call you as soon as Buck gets here.”
“Thank you, Mr. Dunne, I believe that would be a very wise idea right now,” Standish said as he closed his eyes. Sleep was far from his thoughts as he once more
saw Tony Sharpe appear before his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Chris, Vin, I should’ve been able to stop that son of a bitch,’ he thought.
“Why’s it taking so long?” Wilmington asked as he stood up and went to the door for the fifth time in less than ten minutes.
“Buck, the doctor has to make sure he’s repaired the damage to the artery and who knows what other damage they found.”
“What do you mean, Nathan?”
“Just what I said, Buck. Chris fell through the skylight. He’s probably re-broken his ribs. Maybe even damaged his hands again. The nearly healed wounds from his
encounter with Whelan may have re-opened. There’s just so much a body can take...”
“I was told I could find you guys here,” Stacey Midland stepped into the room and gazed at the somber faces of the four men waiting there.
“Doc, is there any word on Chris?” Sanchez asked.
“Dr. Silverman will be here shortly.”
“Dr. Silverman?” Travis asked.
“He’s a Vascular Surgeon. He’ll be able to tell you more than I can. I can tell you that he’s out of surgery and being taken to ICU.”
“Can we see him?” Wilmington asked.
“Not at the moment, Buck. You guys will have to wait until this afternoon.”
“What about, Ezra?” Jackson asked.
“Ezra has a concussion and a laceration above his eye. He’ll be released tomorrow as long as there are no complications. Look, I have to finish my rounds. Once I’m
finished I’ll meet you all in Ezra’s room. I should be able to update you on both Chris and Vin by then.”
“Alright, Doc, we’ll see you there.”
Buck resumed pacing the room as soon as the door closed behind Midland. He looked at his watch every few minutes as time seemed to slow to a crawl.
“You might as well sit down, Brother, pacing is only going to wear a hole in the floor.”
“I can’t, Josiah, I keep seeing that doctor put his hand in Chris’s leg.”
The door opened and four pairs of eyes turned to look at the newcomer.
“Gentlemen, I’m Brandon Silverman.”
“Doc, how’s Chris?” Wilmington asked.
“He’s listed as critical at the moment,” Silverman told them as he sat in one of the chairs. Whereas the rush in the operating room always gave him an adrenalin rush
this part always depressed him. Talking to the friends and family of a patient was always hard for him. He hated seeing the despair on their faces as he told them how
things were.
“What’s wrong with him?” Travis asked.
“Well, on top of the old injuries a fair sized shard of glass punctured his femoral artery. If it wasn’t for the quick reaction of the code team he wouldn’t have made it.
One of the doctors used his bare hand to slow the bleeding. It was enough until they got him to the OR. His blood pressure dropped to dangerous levels but we
pumped IV fluids into him He also received eight units of blood during surgery. I repaired the damage to the artery and made sure there were no other glass particles
in the wound. I don’t know if any of you know Dr. Dalton...”
“Plastic surgeon,” Jackson said.
“That’s correct. Once the artery was repaired he took over and irrigated the smaller wounds, and there were a lot of them the worst one being above his left eye.”
“What about his hands?” Sanchez asked.
“The puncture wounds between thumb and finger bled a little but the damage was minor. Dr. Dalton and myself cleaned the wounds and re-bandaged the damaged
area.”
“What about his ribs and his wrist?”
“The wrist was probably saved by the cast. His ribs were broken in the fall.”
“Jesus, is there any good news?”
“I’m sorry. I wish I had better news for you.”
“Thanks, Dr. Silverman, we know you’re doing all you can,” Travis assured him.
“How long before we can see him?”
“A couple of hours at least. Look, if it’s any consolation I think Mr. Larabee is a fighting man and I’m betting on him to pull through.”
“I’ll have to see what kind of odds Ezra is giving on him,” Wilmington snapped.
“Buck!” Jackson exclaimed.
“Sorry, Nate, I know Ezra wouldn’t take bets in this situation.”
“If you gentlemen will excuse me I’m going to check on my patient.”
“Thanks for taking the time to come see us, Doc,” Jackson said.
“You’re welcome, gentlemen, I just wish it was better news.”
“So do I , Doc,” Sanchez told him.
Chapter 88
Five men sat in the private room waiting for the sleeping man to wake up. They’d descended on the room as soon as the doctor left them and came to sit with JD and
Ezra while they waited for word that they could visit their injured friends in ICU. Standish was awake long enough to hear that Chris Larabee had made it through
surgery but was listed in critical condition.
“I’m going for a walk,” Wilmington said as he headed for the door.
“Wait up, brother, I’ll go with you.”
The two men exited the room and without a word headed for the bank of elevators across from the nursing station. Buck silently pushed the button and as the doors
started to open the two men stepped inside. Josiah automatically pushed the fourth floor and the two men leaned heavily against the back wall as the doors closed
and the elevator rose. Again no words were needed as the they walked onto the floor and headed for the ICU.
They stopped in front of the second glass enclosed room where a nurse was taking vitals on Vin Tanner. The young man didn’t move as the nurse flicked a stray lock
of hair out of his face. Two IVs ran into his arm and an NG tube ran down through his left nostril. Nasal canulas were present as was the foley catheter. The
overhead monitors assured the two men that their friend was alive.
Buck and Josiah looked at each other and without a word moved down the hallway and stopped in front of the next glass enclosed room. Chris was as still as the
man in the adjoining room. He also had the NG tube in his left nostril, the nasal canulas, and the foley catheter. In Chris’s case an IV ran into his arm and another into
the jugular vein in his neck. A pad covered his left eye and a gauze pad covered part of his left forehead. A nurse was doing something with the injured man’s foot
and they watched as she pressed on the nail bed of his big toe.