A burst of gunfire came from their left and the pilot swung the Chinook round so the floodlights pierced the forest.
‘That’s M16s,’ the sergeant sitting beside Ben told them. ‘I recognise the firing pattern. They sound too far away to be accurate. Reports are that most of these guys were already on the ground. We’re therefore acting on the assumption that they won’t have high-calibre weapons. They’ll give us trouble on the ground but if that’s all they have… I say land.’
‘OK, we’re going in,’ the pilot said. ‘You know your job, guys. Let’s go.’
Pieter had personally brought another two units of plasma into the operating theatre. He was needed outside, Lily knew, but she also knew he was treating her as a patient-a patient who he needed to stay on her feet. The woman under her hands was the island’s housing councillor. The wound to her chest was deep and ugly. It was a miracle the shot had missed her heart. All Lily’s attention had to be on her, but Pieter knew that she needed at least some hope.
He was giving it to her now.
‘Friendly troops are landing on Fringe Beach,’ he said. ‘A couple of new patients have come in from the rainforest and they saw them land. We’ve radioed for help and it’s come.’
Lily was hardly listening. ‘Benjy,’ she was whispering over and over again. ‘Benjy…’
‘How many?’ one of the theatre nurses asked, and Lily focused enough to hear terror in her voice that matched her own. Any minute now the few armed men they had could be subdued. The insurgents could take this place over.
And outside… Somewhere in this island was her six-year-old son.
‘Three helicopters so far.’
Lily could feel a tiny lessening of terror in the theatre staff at the news. Outside help?
‘These men are cowards,’ Pieter said into the stillness. ‘They’ve left this place alone because they know we have guns here. They’ll shoot us but they won’t risk being shot themselves. They won’t have counted on outside help so soon. I’m guessing they hoped to bring more military supplies-maybe more men-onto the island before that.’
‘If they’re not already here…’
‘If they had full military capability, they’d have shot down the helicopters,’ Pieter said soundly and Lily thought, Benjy, Benjy, Benjy.
‘Many of the islanders are hiding,’ Pieter added, glancing at her. ‘Long may they stay hidden.’
Benjy.
‘Is there any news from the council compound?’ a nurse asked, and Lily clamped off a blood vessel and waited for the site to be swabbed. She felt sick.
‘We don’t know what’s happened there,’ Pieter said. ‘All we know is that those who ran from the building were shot.’
‘Were those inside shot, too?’
‘Who would know?’ Pieter said heavily. ‘There’s no access. Anyone who goes near the place is met with gunfire.’ He handed over the plasma, glanced at Lily to see if she was OK-was anyone OK just now?-and turned away.
‘There are three more urgent cases,’ he told Lily dully. ‘Hand over here as soon as you can.’
She worked all that night and into the next morning, blocking out everything but medical imperatives. Or she almost blocked out everything. There was so much need. They needed a dozen doctors and there was only her. She worked like an automaton, her silent plea a background throbbing that could never stop.
Benjy, Benjy, Benjy.
‘You need to sleep,’ Pieter told her at four in the morning, and she shook her head.
‘How can I sleep?’
‘I feel the same. But we’re no good to anyone if we collapse.’
‘We’re good until we collapse,’ Lily said bleakly, turning to the next stretcher. A burst of gunfire in the distance made her wince. ‘That’s the way it’s going to be.’
It was almost dawn. There were two platoons with full military and medical gear on the ground now, brought in under cover of darkness. Crack SAS troops, with more on the way.
‘How can they hope to have had a successful coup?’ Ben demanded. He was treating a corporal who’d been hit in the face. A bullet aimed at him had hit a tree and sheared off what had essentially been an arrow. The man’s face was grazed, and once the splinter was out he’d be fine. If this was the extent of their casualties, they’d be lucky.
‘The guess is that they’d never expect us to act this quickly,’ the corporal told him. ‘First rule of warfare-never mess with a country who shares our passion for cricket.’
The man left and Ben rechecked his gear. As soon as the island was secured they could search for wounded, but for now, when the road into the township was still under insurgent hands, there was time to think.
About Lily?
Ever since Sam’s comment yesterday she’d been drifting in and out of his mind. At such a time, with her medical training, she had to be at the hospital. When could they reach the hospital?
He worked on, sorting gear so that when they moved into the township the urgent stuff could be moved first and he wouldn’t be left without imperative supplies. His job was partly about good medicine, but it was also a lot about good organisation.
‘Hey, Doc, we’ve got the road clear,’ a voice called, and he turned to see a corporal emerge from the shadows. Graham was a sometime paramedic, depending on need. ‘I’ve just been talking to the big boys,’ he said. ‘We’re heading for the hospital now. It seems to have become a refuge. The locals we’ve found are saying there’s been a recent drug problem on the island, so the hospital orderlies have been trained to be security guards. The first insurgents got a reception of gunfire and they’ve left the place alone. That’s where our initial radio report came from and we’re in contact with the radio operator now. He’s telling us it’s safe to come in.’
Lily, Ben thought.
She wasn’t necessarily at the hospital, he told himself. She could be anywhere. He glanced across at the few canvas-shrouded figures on the beach. She could even be…
Don’t go there.
Dawn. She was still operating, but without much hope. They were out of plasma, low on everything, and the child under her hands had lost so much blood that she almost hadn’t started operating. But therein lay defeat and somewhere in the back of her exhausted mind lay a cold fury that had grown so great that if any of the insurgents had been close to her scalpel right this minute, they would have feared for their lives.
The boy she was operating on-Henri-was a friend of Benjy’s. Three nights ago she’d made pizza for the pair of them and they’d watched a silly movie, she in the middle of the settee, with a little boy at either side.
Henri had been with his father on the beach where Kira had been killed. Henri’s father had fled with the wounded boy into the rainforest and had waited far too long before he dared bring the boy for treatment.
Benjy and Henri…
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t see what happened to Benjy,’ Henri’s father had told her, but all his attention had been on his son, and Lily’s must, be too.
The wound on Henri’s thigh was massive, tissue torn clear and jagged fragments of bone embedded in what remained. It was well beyond Lily’s area of expertise. She was sweating as she worked, and as she looked at the heart monitor and saw that she was failing, she knew tears were mixing with the sweat.
Damn them. Damn them, damn them, damn them.
Then the door slammed open. The theatre staff jerked to attention. In truth they’d spent the last twenty four hours expecting gunmen to burst in, and these were gunmen-but they were dressed in khaki uniforms she recognised. Friends.
‘Keep still, everyone,’ drawled a voice as armed men, pointed machine-guns and the officer in command assessed what was before him. Checking that the place wasn’t an insurgent stronghold. But here was no disguising that a very real operation was taking place. There was also no disguising that they were operating on a child. The officer in charge made a lightning assessment and obviously decided this was no place for warfare. ‘Who’s in charge?’ he said, and Lily checked the monitor, winced again and managed to reply.