The Surgeon’s Family Miracle

CHAPTER ONE

‘ISN’T Kapua where Lily Cyprano lives?’

Ben was running to a tight schedule, and he sighed as Sam Hopper joined him. Sam was a skilled surgeon but he talked too much. The first Chinook was leaving in an hour. Normally the adrenalin was kicking in by now, making him move with lightning speed, but lately… Hell, what did it mean when preparation for disaster seemed routine?

‘What?’ he asked without looking up, and Sam poured himself coffee and hiked his frame onto the bench where Ben was sorting drugs.

‘Lily,’ he repeated patiently. ‘Cute as a button. Half islander, half French. We all thought she looked like Audrey Hepburn, only curvier. Sexiest thing on two legs. She went through med school, then went home to work on the little island where she’d been raised. Wasn’t that Kapua?’ He paused, sorting old memories. ‘Hey, weren’t you two an item? I was a couple of years above you but I seem to remember… I’m right, aren’t I?’

Ben’s hands stilled. For a moment-just for a moment-a surge of remembered pain washed through him. Lily.

Then he regrouped. ‘We’re talking about seven years ago,’ he snapped. ‘The trivia you keep in that tiny mind of yours…’

‘But Kapua is Lily’s island?’

‘Yeah,’ Ben said, remembering. He’d been so caught up in the urgency of the job that until now he hadn’t thought of the link between Kapua and Lily. But, yes, Kapua was definitely the place Lily called home.

‘Is she still there?’

‘How would I know? I haven’t heard from her for years.’

‘It’d be a joke if she was among the insurgents.’

‘A great joke,’ he said dryly, starting to pack again.

They were moving fast. News had hit that morning of an insurgent attack in Kapua. The islanders needed help, desperately.

Kapua was the biggest of a small group of Pacific islands. Its population was an interracial mix of the original Polynesians and the Spaniards who’d decided to colonise the place centuries ago. There was little sign of that colonisation now. The Spaniards had obviously decided the Polynesian lifestyle suited them much better than their own, and the island’s laid-back lifestyle continued to this day.

But things were changing. Ignored by the rest of the world for centuries, the island had recently been made more interesting to other countries by the discovery of oil. The island’s rulers had shown minimal interest in selling it. To sell the oil could change their lifestyle, but it would leave their descendants without resources when it was finished. The islanders had therefore decided to make the oil last maybe a hundred years or more, and so far they’d sold nothing.

That decision seemed to suit most islanders, but greed did dreadful things. It took few brains to guess that the insurgents who’d stormed the capital would be interested in only one thing-oil money.

‘It’s just as well the island has big friends,’ Sam said, moving on, and Ben nodded. The call for help had been frantic. The insurgents had blasted their way into Kapua’s council compound, and there were reports of deaths and chaos across the island. This wasn’t a political take-over where oil wealth would be shared among the whole population. The opinion of those who knew was that this would be a group with outside backing-backing that could potentially cause instability in the entire Pacific region.

With such destruction-with human loss and chaos-there was little choice for Kapua’s political allies. Troops were therefore flying in immediately. Among them would be Lieutenant Ben Blayden, M.D.

She’s probably forgotten me, he thought grimly. What’s the bet she’ll be a fat island mama by now, with six or seven kids?

That thought made him smile. Domesticity would have made Lily happy. All through her medical training she’d ached to be home.

‘My island’s family to me,’ she’d told him. ‘Come and see what it’s like.’

Not him. He was in too much of a hurry to get where he wanted, and he wanted action. The thought of settling on a remote island and raising children made him shudder.

But Lily…

‘Lily was great,’ he told Sam. ‘She was a good-looking lady.’

‘Look her up when you get there.’

‘Pop in and make a social call during the gunfire?’

‘Maybe it’s not as serious as reported,’ Sam said optimistically. ‘Maybe you can persuade the nasty men to put away their guns, pour margueritas for everyone and go lie on the beach.’

‘As if.’

‘You never know,’ Sam said, yawning. ‘But at least it’ll be action. See if you can find a few bodies that need sewing up. Nice interesting cases. I’ll be there in a flash.’

‘You want to take my place?’

‘After you persuade the boys to put their guns away,’ Sam said, grinning. ‘You’re the front-line doctor. Not me.’

‘I can’t find Benjy.’

Lily was making her way through the crowded hospital, terror making her numb. All around her were people who needed her. The criminals who’d taken over the compound had shot indiscriminately, seeming to relish the destruction they were creating. The death count at the moment stood at twenty but there were scores of injured, scores of people Lily should be caring for right now.

But Benjy…

At first sign of trouble, when Kapua’s finance councillor had stumbled through Lily’s front door that morning, clutching her bloodied arm, Lily had told Benjy to run to Kira’s house.

Kira was Lily’s great-aunt, a loving, gentle lady who was like a grandmother to Benjy. She lived well away from the town centre, in an island-style bure by the beach. Benjy would be safe there, Lily had thought as she’d worked her way through the chaos of that morning.

Then, at midday, an elderly man had stumbled into the hospital, weeping. Kira’s neighbour.

‘Kira,’ the man had wept. ‘Kira.’

Somehow Lily had finished treating an islander she’d been working on. A bullet had penetrated the man’s thigh, causing massive tissue damage. He’d need further surgery but for the moment the bleeding had been controlled. As soon as she’d been able to step away from the table she’d run, to find that Kira’s hut had been burned, to find Kira dead and to find no sign of her son.

She’d stood on the beach and looked at the carnage and felt sick to the stomach. Dear God…

Where was her little boy? Nowhere. By the time she returned to the hospital she was shaking so badly that her chief nurse took control, holding her arms in his broad hands and giving her a gentle shake.

‘What do you mean, you can’t find Benjy? Isn’t he with Kira?’

‘Kira’s dead. Shot in the back, Pieter. That kind, loving old lady. And Benjy’s gone. There’s no one on the beach at all.’ Her breath caught on a sob of terror. ‘Where would he have gone? Why isn’t he here?’ She was close to collapse, and the big islander pushed her into a chair, knelt before her and took both her hands in his.

‘Maybe he’s with Jacques.’

‘I don’t know where Jacques is either. Oh, God, if he’s…’ She buried her face in her hands.

But Pieter was hauling her hands down, meeting her gaze head on. He was the island’s most senior nurse, sixty or so, big and gentle and as patient as any man she’d met. The look of fear in his eyes now made her more terrified than she’d been in her life. If Pieter was scared…

But he had himself more together than she did. ‘So Benjy’s probably with Jacques,’ he told her. ‘Or he’ll be hiding. It’s a good sign, Lily. Benjy’s the most sensible six-year-old I know. If we look for him or for Jacques, it’ll only jeopardise us all. You were crazy to have left the hospital yourself.’

He hesitated then, but they had to face facts. ‘I’m sorry, but you need to block Benjy out, Lily. You’re our only doctor and we need you. Trust Jacques to take care of him. For now Benjy’s on his own and so are we.’

It was dusk as the Chinook carrying Ben hovered over the northern beach, its searchlights illuminating the sweep of sand while they assessed whether it was safe to land.

‘We have the north beach secured,’ they’d been told on a shaky radio connection by a deputy head of council who’d seemed to be having trouble speaking. ‘They don’t seem to be near. And the hospital’s ours. That’s all.’

A problem with an idyllic island existence, thought Ben grimly, was that it left everyone exposed to the nasties of this world. Life in paradise is all very well if everyone feels that way. The majority of islanders hadn’t owned guns. They’d never dreamed of needing them and it had left the way for the few to run riot.

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.

‘I’m operating. This child is critical. We have to continue.’

‘What do you need, Doctor?’ he asked, and her heart, which had almost stopped beating, started to thump again.

‘Plasma,’ she said, and she made no attempt to disguise the desperation in her voice. ‘Now. And help. If you have anyone with medical training…’

‘Right.’ This was a man of few words and plenty of action and Lily blessed him for it. ‘Everyone out except theatre staff. Let’s keep this place as aseptic as possible. Someone find the medical supplies now, and get Ben in here, pronto.’

The machine-guns disappeared. Lily turned her attention to the wound again as the door slammed open once more.

‘Plasma’s on its way,’ a voice said. ‘I’m a doctor. Do you want me to scrub?’

She didn’t look up. She couldn’t. ‘Yes, please,’ she managed, and the man hauled off his outer uniform, let it fall to the floor and crossed to the sinks.

‘Lily’s exhausted,’ Pieter told him. ‘She’s been operating for almost twenty-four hours and her hands are shaking.’

‘That’s what I’m here for,’ the voice said. ‘More medics are on their way but I’m the forerunner. I’m a Lieutenant in the SAS, and I have surgical training. What do you want me to do?’

‘Ben,’ Lily whispered, and she lifted her hands clear. Her fingers were trembling so much she couldn’t go on.

‘Doctor,’ Pieter said urgently, and magically Ben was there, lifting the clamps from Lily’s fingers and checking the monitor.

‘Get that plasma here now,’ he roared in a voice that could be heard in the middle of next week. He glanced at Pieter, who was acting as anaesthetist. ‘Are you a doctor?’

‘I’m a nurse with the basic training Lily’s taught me. I’m Pieter.’

‘Then, Lily, you take over the anaesthetic,’ Ben snapped. ‘Pieter, no offence but…’

‘Of course there’s no offence,’ Pieter said, motioning to Lily to take over. ‘If you knew how pleased I am to leave this to you guys…’

‘I can imagine,’ Ben said, and fixed his gaze on Lily, forcing her to steady. ‘You can do this,’ he said.

She took a deep breath. ‘I can.’

‘Right,’ he snapped. ‘Don’t you dare collapse. There’s no time. Let’s get this kid out of danger and worry about everything else later.’

Ben was there.

She was so exhausted she could hardly think, but the knowledge settled in her heart and stayed. It made her feel…not better but somehow less hopeless.

Which was crazy. It was ridiculous to think that Ben Blayden could make all right with her world. Though he’d thought so from the start. He was loud and bossy and sure that his way was right.

‘There are no easy answers,’ she’d told him at the end of med school. They’d been discussing their future, but they’d already accepted their future didn’t involve each other.

‘Of course there are easy answers. You follow your vocation and you don’t get distracted,’ he’d said, and she’d wanted to agree with him but she hadn’t been able to. She had already been distracted.

And now here he was again, just as distracting. She could hardly see him under his mask and theatre cap, but she’d glimpsed enough to see that he’d hardly changed. Still with that mass of jet-black curls that always looked unruly, that always looked supremely sexy. Still with those deep brown eyes, creased at the edges from constant laughter. Still with that body that said he worked hard and he played hard, strongly physical.

Ben was just who they needed right now.

He’d always been just who she needed.

‘Blood pressure,’ he snapped, and she responded fast, the medical side of her working once more on automatic.

‘Seventy on forty-five.’

‘We’re clamping this and waiting,’ he snapped. ‘There’s muck further down but to clear it involves further blood loss. We have to get that pressure up first.’

Muck further down…

She’d never intended to clear it. The bullet that had smashed into Henri had obviously blasted though wood first, as there were shards of splintered timber in the wound. She’d decided her only option was to get the bleeding vessels clamped and the wound closed, then hope like hell they could get him off the island to a competent surgeon before the wound festered.

Now here was Ben, saying let’s take our time, let’s use the plasma, get his blood pressure up and get this wound properly cleaned.

The tiny frisson of hope built, both for Henri and for them all.

He wouldn’t operate this way unless he knew that things weren’t hopeless outside, she thought. He wasn’t closing fast and moving on to the next disaster.

Right. She firmed and made her tired mind find its third or fourth or maybe its twentieth wind. She could do this.

‘Thank you, Ben,’ she whispered, and he flashed her a look of concern.

She looked away. She didn’t need sympathy now. If he said just one word… Her world could collapse, she thought.

Dear God, where was Benjy?

Now that Henri’s blood pressure was rising Ben worked swiftly, knowing the anaesthetic itself was a strain on this desperately injured child. But now they had plasma he thought he’d make it. The child was strong and otherwise healthy, and Lily had done the hard part.

Lily.

This was no contented mama with six or seven babies. He glanced along the table to where she stood at Henri’s head. All he could see of her was her eyes. They were the same eyes he’d fallen hard for more than ten years before, when they had still been kids at university. But they’d changed. She seemed haunted. She looked exhausted beyond all limits, exhausted by something that went beyond this present drama.

If he’d had another doctor he’d have ordered her away from the table. Even if she wanted to work, having such an exhausted colleague had its own risks. But the rest of the medical team wasn’t flying in until they were sure it was safe to do so. Ben was the forerunner, sent to deal with frontline casualties, and there’d be no more medics here for the next few hours.

So he worked on, and Lily watched Henri’s obs like a hawk, and monitored the anaesthetic as if she’d been trained to the job.

She’d been practising here for seven years, Ben thought. She’d been a lone doctor here for seven years. She’d need so many skills…

She’d fall over if he didn’t hurry.

‘I’m closing now,’ he said at last, and saw Lily’s shoulders sag under her theatre gown. Was it just exhaustion?

‘Before I came here I did a rough check of the wards,’ he told her, trying to alleviate a terror he only sensed. ‘Unless more have come in, there’s nothing else urgent. The rest of my medical team will probably be here in the next few hours. Why don’t I take over and you guys get some sleep?’

‘We won’t sleep,’ Pieter said gruffly, speaking for them all. ‘We don’t know what’s gone on outside. Until we know what’s happened to the rest of the islanders, there’ll be no sleep for anyone.’

Lily was reversing the anaesthetic. Henri coughed and gagged his way into consciousness and as soon as he did so she stepped away from the table.

‘I need to go.’

‘Stay,’ Ben said urgently. ‘I need to talk to you.’

‘There’s no outstanding surgery?’

‘Not as far as I know, but-’

‘I’m sorry Ben,’ she faltered, looking down at Henri. Maybe she was thinking she should stay. But her gaze moved to Ben and her shoulders straightened. ‘I have to go. Now. Please, look after him. Pieter, will you talk to his father?’

‘Of course we will,’ Pieter said, and he put his hands on Lily’s shoulders and propelled her out of the room. ‘You go,’ he said. ‘And find him safe.’

Who was she worried about?

He couldn’t follow. It was a complex wound and dressing it took time. Then he worked out antibiotic doses and started them running through the drip. Then the moment he walked out the door he was clutched by a man who turned out to be Henri’s father.

‘Is he…?’

‘He’ll be fine,’ Ben said gently. ‘As I’m sure Lily told you. You can see him in a minute. Just take that shirt off first, will you?’ He grimaced at the gore over the man’s clothes. He’d carried his desperately injured son to the hospital and it showed. ‘You’ll scare Henri into a relapse if he sees you like that.’ Then, as the man’s terror didn’t fade, he took him by the arm and led him into the theatre. Henri was still coming round. There were tubes going everywhere, but his breathing was strong and steady and colour was seeping back into his face.

‘He’s not quite awake,’ Ben said. ‘Change your shirt and you can sit with him while he wakes.’

‘His mother,’ the man muttered.

Ben thought, Uh-oh, and braced himself for another tragedy. But it seemed none was coming.

‘His mother’s in Sydney,’ he whispered. ‘My daughter’s won a scholarship to boarding school there. Our daughter’s very clever, you know. She’s fourteen and she’s…’ He broke off and buried his face in his hands.

‘Let me give you something to help the trembling,’ Ben said, even though all he wanted to do right now was find Lily.

‘I want…’

‘We all want, mate,’ Ben said softly. ‘Let’s just do what comes next.’

What came next-treating him for shock and dressing a jagged cut across his elbow that the man hadn’t noticed until Ben helped him off with his shirt-took time. Then, just as he’d settled Henri’s dad into a chair by Henri’s bedside and wondered who’d sleep the deepest, a private came to find him.

‘One of our men’s got a flash burn to the arm,’ he told him. ‘They’re chucking out Molotov cocktails and he got hit.’

‘From where?’

‘From that place they call the council compound.’ He shrugged. ‘We’re mopping up now-there doesn’t seem to be any aggressive fire from anywhere else on the island except from there. Paul was just real unlucky to be hit.’

‘So what’s happening?’ Ben asked. ‘Did our guys storm the place?’

‘Dunno about that,’ the private told him, leading the way back to his friend with the burns. ‘They’re saying there are hostages. The sergeant reckons when they saw how many of us had arrived they took fright, grabbed as many people as they could and barricaded themselves in. The powers that be have had us fall back out of range. My mate here’s the last one injured. We sit and wait, Sarge reckons.’

They’d reached his mate now, a lanky corporal with an arm that was blistered and raw. ‘Ouch,’ Ben said. ‘You’ve been playing with matches?’

The corporal gave him a sickly grin and Ben looked round to find Pieter, anyone, to prepare him a syringe of morphine.

Pieter appeared as if he’d known he was being looked for. His face, though, was more grim than the last time Ben had seen it.

‘What’s up?’ he asked.

‘I hope not much,’ Pieter said. ‘My wife and daughters are OK. Word is that order’s being restored, except at the council compound.’

‘Do we know how many people are in there?’

‘I have no idea,’ Pieter said brusquely. ‘Lily’s gone to find out.’

‘Lily…’ Ben frowned. ‘She might be needed here. If she’s anywhere else, she ought to be asleep.’

‘You can’t expect that of her,’ Pieter said. ‘Her son’s missing and her fiancé. They’ve been missing for twenty-four hours now and Lily’s going out of her mind.’