Chapter 54

"Good Evening and Welcome to Action News Now." There was an enormous head of hair, really a huge, lofty, helmet of hair that easily could have provided shelter for a family of four in the rain forest, talking on the TV. "I am Bambi Ambromowitz Hernandez. This evening there was a car chase and shoot out in Daly City. It was an apparent kidnap attempt on Dr. Harold MacAnish, the scientist behind the Venusian BioAtmospherics Project. Here is Michael Gonzalez Yue on the scene." As soon as the red light on top of the camera went off, a technician ran over to prop up and then spray Bambi's hair. There are few things as reliable as gravity and hair spray is not one of them.

The camera switched to Mr. Yue, who while clearly of ethnic descent, looked as Asian as the Nigerian ambassador. He was standing in front of an ambulance entrance. "I am Michael Gonzolez Yue reporting live from Moffit-Long Hospital. Harold MacAnish is being operated on at UCSF hospital for a gun shot wound to the thigh. Apparently, several armed men tried to kidnap the scientist today as he was getting lunch at McDonalds. Two of his body guards were killed in the incident. There were apparently more than 8 attackers armed with automatic weapons. The police and FBI are investigating but have no leads at the present time." The camera switched to a picture of the Suburban. The rear windows were shot out. The other windows were crazed in hundreds of places. The tire were still inflated but had obvious marks on them from gun shots. The doors had several hundred holes in them. The one near the drivers door that had actually admitted the bullet that hit Harold was no more obvious than the rest. "This is the vehicle that Dr. MacAnish was driving during the incident. Police forensic experts are examing it for clues. Police suspect that resistance to the Venusian BioAtmospherics Project may have led to this attack. Back to you Bambi." The camera went off and Mr. Yue relaxed.

Linda Grange took another swig from her glass of carrot juice and scratched her shoulder. She was sitting on a large pillow on a wooden floor in a very large room. On one side of the room there were several wooden art statues. They were made of sticks with the bark still on, tied together with twine. They were of unclear artistic intent but certainly both ugly and expensive. One wall of the room consisted of floor to ceiling plate glass windows with a view up the rugged California coast. There was a beach in the foreground with surfers in wet suits. The clouds had just begun to flow in the San Francisco Golden Gate. It looked like a giant scoop of ice cream. The top of the orange bridge stuck through the advancing clouds. Linda picked up the phone. "Moffit-Long Hospital. He is at Moffit-Long in the city. No security. The place is full of students, nurses, residents, everybody is new, every month. We can get him there." Linda began to smile. Not her whole face though, just the left side of her face. She began to shake a little and the smile became more intense. "Harold, I'll get you if it is the last thing I do on this planet." Then she scratched her shoulder again without even noting she was doing it.

The surgery resident was dressed in blue pajamas and a short white coat. His UC insignia and blue and white name tag identified him. There were hundreds of residents but this one the recovery room nurse knew quite well. He was a first year and she thought he was kind of cute. He looked over the chart, the flow sheet, noted the blood pressure, the hematocrit. It had dropped to 21% but the patient was young. Leave it alone and check it in the morning. Avoid the risks of transfusion. He had urinated; he must have a reasonable blood volume. The X-rays looked good. The surgery resident wrote his post op note and left. He would pre-round on him at 5:30 am.

The nurse gave Harold 2 mg of morphine in the intravenous line and he fell asleep. Thirty minutes later he awoke to another resident. This one wanted to know if he was comfortable. If he knew where he was. The anesthesia resident checked the vitals signs, the oxygen saturation on room air, and then signed Harold out of the PACU. The recovery room nurse called the floor and gave report to the floor nurse. Harold was assigned to room 722 Long. An orderly was called and Harold was taken by elevator to the seventh floor.

The nurse checked over the papers from the PACU and then pushed the gurney into room 720. They never gave the patient the room they were initially assigned. The nurses moved the patients around for their convenience. Harold slid off the gurney onto the bed. Every move elicited a searing, yet also truly excruciating pain from his leg. The periostium or membrane covering the bone is quite sensitive. Every motion, every tremor, really every breath moved the two edges of the bone against one another. The little fragments jarred the big ones, and a signal was sent from a nerve fiber in the periostium, to the spinal cord and then up the spinal cord to the thalamus. The signal then wa sent to the cortex where it was perceived as pain. The morphine cut down both the signal from the spinal cord to the thalamus, but also attenuated the perception of the pain by making Harold a bit sleepy. All of this neural anatomy was lost on Harold who was simply trying to not scream in agony.

"I will be your primary nurse. My name is Glynda. If you need anything just push this little button and we will try to help you." She turned and sped toward the door.

"Glynda, could I have some pain medication. My leg is killing me." Harold's face was squenched up and there was sweat on his forehead."

Glynda turned as she went out the door. "I am sorry, Harold. The doctor has ordered your pain medicine every four hours. You will have to wait." She continued her exit.

Harold sank into the bed. He slowed his breathing down to reduce the movement of his leg. "Four hours, four hours. I've got to do something." He picked up the phone and dialed Emily.

Noah Fisher was standing in a very large kitchen mixing something in a bowl. There was a large gas stove with silver and blue trim behind. Above it there was a stainless exhaust hood. He was working at a large granite counter, next to which there was a butcher block table that was large enough for either an Aztec Priest preparing something for the sun god or Fred Flintstone with his brontosaurus steaks. The phone in the back ground rang. "Noah Fisher here. Linda! Long time no see! What are you saying? We can't get in there. It will be full of police. You are nuts. Have you been taking Prozac again? I told you to just increase the fiber in your diet and those problems would blow away. I am not going to help you. Remember the trouble we got into last time? We almost did time! Harold won't be as charitable if we try again. Besides, what do you intend to do to him? Oh, you are a sick woman. I like it, that would be perfect. It would be an honor to service you."

Glynda was sitting at a Formica table covered with different bowls all filled with food. She was filling a paper plate with a dollop from each bowl. One large spoonfull of orange jello with brownish bananas and little marshmallows on top. Marshmallows are really just diabetic mushrooms. Then she plunked down a chicken leg that had been floating in a light tan sauce and a spoon full of translucent noodles with specks of imitation crab meat. Ten or so nurses were milling around doing likewise. One of the nurses just passed her B.S. requirements so they were celebrating with a pot luck.

In the back ground a switch board was lighting up. There were forty little white lights each with a red light above it. As the nurses munched out, one after the other little light went on, each announced by a little ping. There was an intercom to each room and after pushing the button the patient could speak for ten seconds. The lights went on one at a time. "Nurse, I need to go to the bathroom." Mr. Johnson was cut off. His ten seconds were over. The white light remained on. A minute or so later another light went on followed by a request for pain medicine. Each little light stayed on. Each nurse remained to eat at the pot luck.

Harold pushed his call button. The pain was even more extreme. On a scale of zero to ten, with zero no pain, and ten the worst pain you can imagine, he was at a 9 going towards 14. "Glynda, Glynda. I need a shot of something for pain. Please Glynda..." His light was on, but his ten seconds were up.

Glynda picked up a tooth pick and stabbed a little meat ball and dipped it into a phosphorescent red sauce. The other nurses scurried around scooping up food like they hadn't eaten all day. The ward clerk was busy dishing up some green noodles with pesto sauce and little Vienna sausages when Harold's light went on again.

A white van turned south on 4th avenue and climbed the hill toward Parnassus. It turned onto Parnassus and then turned left into the drive way in front of Moffit-Long. Seven men named Bob in indescript clothing jumped out. Each checked his waist band just before leaving the car and walked a bit stiffly. They entered the hospital and took the elevator to the seventh floor.

Linda jumped up from the pillow, clicked off the phone, grabbed her coat and keys, and climbed the five stairs to the front door. She took the Izuzu Trooper, backed into the one lane street, knocked over the neighbor's mail box, ground the gears searching for first, and lurched off towards the east, lugging the engine. The car jerked down the street.

"Glynda, this is Dr. MacAnish. Glynda, I know you are at the other end of the speaker. I can hear your party. Glynda, I need a shot of some pain medicine. Any pain medicine will do. Please." Harold was frantically pushing the call button and talking into the intercom. His door was shut and beads of sweat were dripping down his face. His leg really, really hurt now. He started to shake with pain and with each shake the edges of the broken femur rubbed one another. With each rub of bone chip against bone chip, another lightning bolt of pain shot up his leg.

"Glynda, this jello is really good. Did you make it?" The ward clerk had left her desk and was scooping up a second helping of the jello with banana slices and marshmallows on top. She had her back to the intercom system and the door shut, so she could not hear the calls. Every light on the intercom system was now lit up. Some of the red call lights, the ones for emergencies were now flashing.

"No, I didn't make the jello, Karen did. I made the casserole with corn flakes on top. It has real turkey meat in it. Try some." She dished out two large spoonfulls to the ward clerk. "Who made the salad with Miracle Whip dressing? I just love it." Glynda went over to the dessert tray and picked up two brownies decorated with M&M smiley faces.

The elevator doors at the end of Long Hospital opened and the seven named Bob men got off. Long Hospital has two parallel hallways that run the length of the building, with rooms on the outside of each. Between the halls, there are support facilities, a nurse's station, doctors offices, and the stairs. Each patient's room has a window. At one end there is the bank of elevators, at the other end more patient's rooms. One of the seven Bobs walked down the long connecting hall to Moffit Hospital. He stopped by the Moffit elevators and pushed the send button on his cellular phone. He pushed 12 then send, then end. The eighth man was in a van on Parnassus. His cellular phone rang. The 12 appeared. "Man 1 in place." Four more of the seven walked to the ends of the hall ways, and when in position did the same with their cellular phones. Each put in a code corresponding to his location and identity. The leader, a man of medium build with a close cropped shave, you know like he used scissors instead of a razor, walked up to the nurses station. He wanted to find out which room was Harold's but the nurses were still "In conference". He picked up the house phone and dialed patient information.

"Patient information, please hold,. click." They hung up on him.

"Patient information, please hold, click." They dumped him into electronic limbo again. "Patient information, may I help you."

"Do you have the room of Harold MacAnish?" His rough beard caused a bit of noise on the line.

"Mr MacAnish is in 722, may I ring the room for you?"

"No, no thanks." He hung up.

The patient information operator was being watched by a secret service agent. As she gave out the information, he jumped towards her to say no, but it was too late. He immediately realized what the inquiry could mean. He picked up a phone and called in to his supervisor. "Agent Brown, Chumpsy here at Moffit. MacAnish got a call. The call was from in house. Right. I will investigate." He left the information operator office and ran for the elevator. He looked at the indicator lights, it was on the seventh floor. The stairs were just beyond. He ran for them and climbed upward.

Linda Grange's Trooper turned into the UCSF garage. She found a space on the top floor. She and Noah jumped out and ran to the elevators to the street. They crossed the street and entered the hospital. They took the Moffit elevators to the seventh floor and stepped off just as the first man sat down in a waiting room. Linda and Noah casually walked down the hall to Long. The first man dialed his cellular phone and talked to the van driver. Just then Agent Chumpsy opened the door to the stairs on the seventh floor. He was a bit winded and but followed Linda and Noah down the hall towards Long. The first man dialed a second time.

Chumpsy could not quite believe his eyes. Linda and Noah Fischer walking towards MacAnish's room. Hadn't they had enough? There was a court order to keep them away from Harold. If they knew Harold was here, Chumpsy could arrest them just for being here in violation of a court order. Chumpsy was so shocked to see Linda that he just walked right past the two men in indescript clothing standing at the end of the Long hallways. They both took note of him. An agent looks a certain way. They carry themselves in a certain way, they dress in a certain way. If one knows what to look for, one can spot an agent. The indescript man guarding the west hall way nodded to the man guarding the east hall way. The west hall way man made the call. He punched in the code 911. He received the return code 911. He then stepped into the john near the elevator.

"I think we've been had Man. There's an agent following that Grange woman. You know the one on Gerando. Yeah. She is here. No Man. I am here for a simple bag and run, not a quadruple. No. That much. No. OK. I'll make it look like she did it man. But the money is in cash and we get the drums. No Visa, no Mastercard, no credit, no blue chip stamps. Cash and the drums." He immediately called the man guarding the nurses station. "Come to the end of the hall way, plans have changed." He hung up. The indescript man at the nurses station walked down hall past Linda, Noah, and Chumpsy in toe. They both stepped into the john. "You saw that lady and guy."

"Yeah." The seventh man was quite a linguist.

"Number 10 wants them all dead including MacAnish. Make it look like she did it." The indescript man from the nurses station nodded his head and stepped out of the john followed by man in the west hall way.

Just as they stepped out of the john together, a family walked by. The wife took one look at two men stepping out of a john together, her face filled with disgust at the thought of what must have been going on in the restroom, and reversed directions. Her son immediately burst out with. "I don't want to go back. Where are we going? Are you lost again?"

The mother just hurried them along, looking over her shoulder at the two in disgust. "Shhhhhh!, This is not the time to discuss it! I will explain later!"

The indescript man walked down the hallway towards room 722. Linda and Noah opened the door to room 722. They walked in to a small room with a drawn curtain. There were voices from behind the curtain. "I know this is uncomfortable sir, but it is necessary. Linda pulled the curtain back, only to find a man lying on his side in the fetal position. A nurse was shoving a hose up his anus with one hand while holding a bag full of water with the other. As the curtain was pulled back, the nurse turned, saw Linda, and said. "Oh, I am so glad you are here, Mrs...., ugh, you can help with the enema. Your wife is here sir." The nurse handed the bag to Linda and suggested with hand motions to hold it up high. "The higher the better for a better wash out sir." Noah looked on in shock. Chumpsy caught up with them just as Linda accepted her hydrologic duty.

The indescript man pulled his gun out. It was an automatic pistol with a silencer. He was about to shoot Chumpsy in the back, when Chumpsy began to turn. The indescript man hid the gun in his coat, and walked past. The indescript man at the end of the hallway made one stern look at him and pointed, the indescript man spun around to return to the room.

"That just doesn't feel very good miss. I know I am supposed to have it, I know the doctor ordered it but I feel like I have to take a sh...." Just at that moment the patient turned around and looked buck naked at Linda, Noah, and Chumpsy, who by now had his gun out. "Who are these people?" Just then he saw the gun in Chumpsy's hand. His eyes widened. "Well, if it's a doctor's order, I guess I'll do it. You don't have to get violent with me." He turned around and lay back down.

The nurse spun around and saw Chumpsy's gun. She was so shocked that she turned with her whole body removing the hose from the patient's anus. The water was still at full pressure and sprayed the room, Linda, Noah, and Chumpsy. "Who are you people? This is a hospital. I will have to report you to the head nurse. You can't have a gun in here." With each statement her voice got a pitch higher and several decibels louder. She then saw the mess with the enema hose just as the last drips went down her white stockings and into her white leather shoes. "Oh, shoot! My new panty hose." She broke into tears.

The patient in the bed suddenly figured out that something was quite abnormal. He jumped up out of the bed. The discomfort of a colon full of water started to build. He was overwhelmed by the waves of colonic spasm. The only thought on his mind was colonic evacuation. He looked toward the door as an escape. He ran out trailing little drops of the nurse's efforts and ran down the long hall to the john by the elevator. He completely forgot the one in his room. The fact that he was dressed only in little hospital socks did not dissuade him from his goal: To reach a john before he exploded.

Harold heard the commotion in the next room. "Gun? Oh, Jesus, they are after me here." He picked up the phone. "Operator, please operator." Glynda, the ward clerk and the rest of the nurses were still filling their plates. He dialed 911. "Help, please. This is Dr. MacAnish. I am at Long Hospital, and they are trying to get me."

"If you need an operator press 1. If you would like to order flowers press 2. If you need patient information press 3. If you need information press 4."

"Where do they get these phone systems?" Harold pulled himself up on the bar over the bed. He untied the traction cords holding his leg to the bed. The ten pound steel weights dropped to the floor with a loud thud. There was a pair of crutches in the corner and he initially tried to stand and hop towards them. His IV pole was on the other side of the bed and he tripped and fell. The IV ripped from his arm and he smashed his head first on the sink and then on the trash can. New waves of pain came first from his leg, then his head. He thrashed about and grabbed the crutches. He pulled himself to his feet. The crutches were designed for someone about seven feet tall. As he tried to walk on them his entire body was lifted into the air. On the first try he lofted up, then fell back. On the second he went completely over the top of the arc of the crutches only to not be able to stop on the end of the arc. He smacked the wall near the door. He recovered and slowly opened the door. He looked toward 720 only to see the back of Linda's head as she backed out of the room. Harold pulled back and shut the door. "Linda, Linda Grange, Gun! Yikes! Gotta get out of here! Gotta get out of here!" Harold opened the door again just a crack as the indescript man returned with his gun out. "Who's that? Oh my god, it's the guy from South San Francisco." He hopped back to the phone.

"For hospital information press 5, to order from our video catalog press 6, to have room service press 7..." Harold pick up and then threw down the phone again.

"What to do? What to do? Gotta get out of here." Harold opened the door, just a crack, and noted the door to the stairs just across from his room. He grabbed his crutches and got ready to vault the hallway.

Linda and Noah walked down the hallway toward the nurse's station to ask what room Harold was in. Chumpsy turned around in response to a noise in the hallway. As he turned the indescript man turned around to avoid his gaze. Chumpsy turned again toward Noah and Linda. The indescript guys at the end of the halls turned to avoid being seen by Linda and Chumpsy. Just at this exact point, when no one was actually looking at the hallway in front of 720, Harold began his vault. He hit the door on the other side of the hallway with a tremendous force. The door popped open and he fell through into the stairwell, his hospital gown trailing. The door slammed shut on the little ties as he went through the door ripping his gown. He began his long hop to the first floor, each hop an excruciating bounce. He left little drips of blood on the floor from his IV site.

Linda and Noah reached the nurse's station just as the food fest was breaking up. "May I help you?" It was the receptionist. She was done with her jello and marshmallows.

"We are friends of Dr. MacAnish. What room is he in?"

"He is in room 720 but Dr. MacAnish is not having visitors today." She had been warned by the secret service to discourage fans.

"Thank you, we won't be but a minute." They turned and walked back to 720. The indescript man at the end of the hall walked back as well. Linda opened room 720 only to find the trash can knocked over, the sheets in disarray, traction weights on the floor, and little drips of blood on the floor. She prided herself on her insight and quickly realized Harold was gone. As she exited the room, she saw the little blue and white flowered cloth string used to tie up the hospital gowns in the door to the stairwell. A look of understanding came over her face, and she opened the door to the stairwell. The drops of blood led down the stair well. Chumpsy followed, and then the indescript man. The leader at the end of the west hall, called in the progress.

George called Emily. He had heard on the evening news about the attack on Harold. "Emily, is he all right? Shot in the leg, just the leg. He is at Moffit-Long. They can take great care of him there. Yes, I did have my kidney stone taken care of there. Oh, it was fine. Lots of pain but I past it. Yeah, that's right I have it in that bottle on my desk. Great. Caroline and I will send him a card and I will be over in the city tomorrow. I'll stop by and see the old guy."

Harold had made it to the bottom of the seven flights of stairs and was hopping down the first floor hallway to the street. There was a pay phone. "No pockets, hence no money, no change, I'll call Emily. She can pick me up." He picked up the phone and dialed home. He dialed in the credit card number. Busy. Busy. Get off the phone. Get off the phone." Harold was looking down the hall at the stairwell he had come out only to see the door open.

"He's fine George. He lost some blood but he has more where that came from. The bullet fractured his femur. How did you like the service? He would love to see you both. Emily was at home on the sofa watching CNN and talking on the phone.

Harold slammed down the phone and desperately renewed his hopping to the exit door. He tripped once. The pain in his leg was excruciating. He came up to the self opening electric doors, stepped on the mat and they began to open. He hopped forward, and the proximity sensors stopped the doors from opening to prevent the inward swinging doors from hitting him. They closed again. He hopped back, then forward, they opened, then sensed he was too close and shut. He hopped back, turned, saw Linda, and hopped through just as the doors closed on him. He was squashed in the doors as he pulled through. He hopped over to a cab and jumped in. "Get me out of here."

"Bad service man? Or are you avoiding a bill?" The cabby pulled out of the driveway and into the street. Harold ducked down in the back and peaked over the rear seat to see Linda follow his path out the front door to the street. She looked, saw nothing, and returned into the hospital. Chumpsy was right behind her.

Glynda walked into room 720 with a syringe of morphine. "Mr. MacAnish , time for your pain medicine."

Chapter 55

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