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“Of course. I’m sorry. What do you want me to do?”
“First, let’s get this windbreaker off.”
As Jackie helped him, Scot continued talking. “Now, take the scissors out of the first aid kit, and starting at my cuff, I need you to cut the sweater all the way up to where the tourniquet is and then do the same with the shirt underneath.”
Jackie did as she was told.
“Do me a favor and hand me that towel over there so I can use it as a compress…Thanks. Now, when we release the tourniquet, there might be some more blood, so I want you to be ready. Are you going to be okay? You’re not going to go south on me, are you?”
She shook her head, a few stray wisps of auburn falling into her eyes, which she quickly brushed away.
“All right. Take the needle that looks like a curved half-moon and the coil of black silk out of the kit.”
“I got it. I suppose I thread it the same way I would a regular needle and thread?”
“It should already be threaded.”
“It’s not.”
“Great. Just thread it like a regular needle and go to town. We don’t have time to learn how to do surgical knots.”
Jackie threaded the needle while Scot continued his directions.
“Now, when I release the tourniquet, I want you to tear my sweater and shirt the rest of the way up to my shoulder. I’ll hold the compress on the wound to stop any bleeding. As soon as you have my sleeve out of the way, I’ll pull back the compress and you dump the hydrogen peroxide straight into the wound.”
“How much should I use?”
“Pour a little on the needle right now, and then pour about half the bottle onto my arm.”
“That’s going to hurt.”
“Naw, you think? Listen, Jack, I don’t really have any choice. Are you ready?”
When Jackie nodded, Scot released the tourniquet and let the belt fall to the bed. He placed the clean towel against his arm as Jackie used both hands to tear his sleeves up to the collar. When he saw the peroxide in her hand, he pulled back the compress. The blood flow was not as bad as he’d thought it might be. With a quick look at Jackie to signal he was ready, Scot steeled himself for the pain.
When she poured the peroxide into the gash in his arm, the stew of blood and ripped flesh began to bubble and turn a mucus-looking white. Jackie felt queasy, but didn’t stop until half the bottle had been emptied. The peroxide ran down Scot’s arm and stomach, covering his pants and dripping onto the bed. It felt like hot acid, and he clenched his jaw with a force that was one foot pound of pressure short of cracking his teeth and sending his fillings flying across the room.
When Jackie set the bottle on the nightstand, Scot relaxed his bite and gave her his next instructions. “Now you need to stitch me up.”
“Oh, Scot. I don’t know if I can do that.”
“You’ve got to, Jackie. Just grab the needle and start from the top.”
“But what if I don’t do it right?”
He didn’t have the strength or the patience to argue with her. He did his best to stay calm. “You’ll do fine. C’mon. Start here and work your way down. We’ll make sure you draw the folds together as evenly as possible.”
“It’s going to hurt.”
“You’re such a kidder. That’s what you said about the peroxide, and I was fine,” he lied. “Let’s go.”
Fifteen minutes later it was done. The stitches were clean, and although there would probably be a scar, it could have been much worse.
“I think you missed your calling,” said Scot.
“What do you mean?”
“You should have been a surgeon. These are very clean. I thought you were go
“Very fu
This time it was Scot who accepted the orders and did as he was told.
“There, that should do it. I’m sorry I don’t have any antibiotic ointment.”
“That’s okay,” said Scot. “The peroxide should kill just about anything that might have gotten in there.”
“Is there a high risk of infection?”
“With a bullet wound there always is, but I think we cleaned it out pretty well.”
“Good. Are you hungry? Can I get you some soup or something?”
“I would love some soup, but we need to talk first.”
She gathered up the equipment and set it on the table. “I’m all ears.”
“Jackie, you have been a real sweetheart. You’ve really helped me out-”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“Yes, I do. Not just for sewing me up, but for everything else.”
“Don’t worry. I told you I would put it all on your bill. By the way, critical care is very expensive in Switzerland.”
Scot smiled. “I’m sure it is. Listen, I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I’m starting to get a better picture. I need to ask you another favor.”
“Another favor? Sure, why not? What can I do for you…take your appendix out?”
“No,” said Scot, laughing, “nothing that serious. I need to borrow your car.”
“Okay, but the smoke screen and oil slick have been on the fritz. Every time I take it in to be fixed, the mechanic says he’s got it working, and then as soon as I get it home and need to wipe out some bad guys, it doesn’t work again. It’s also not bulletproof, you know.”
“That’s okay; I don’t intend to get it or myself near any more bullets.”
Jackie gave him a stern glance, knowing he was lying. “Why don’t I believe you?”
“I just need it for tonight, and-”
“Not a chance.”
“Why?”
“Scot, I don’t care how much of a macho guy you think you are, you could barely make it up the stairs a short while ago. I practically had to carry you the whole way. You are in no condition to drive.”
“I was exhausted. Being shot at has a fu
“All the more reason you shouldn’t be behind the wheel.”
“Okay, you’re right. I’ll make you a deal. Bring up some soup, I’ll eat, get a little sleep, and then I’ll go.”
She sat on the edge of the bed not saying anything. She just gave him the same disbelieving look.
“C’mon, Jack. Scout’s honor. I promise. I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t important.”
“Okay, I’ll do it, but on one condition.”
“What is it?”
“I want a straight answer.”
“Okay.”
“What’s happening?”
“Jackie, if I knew, I would tell you. I mean that straight.”
“So you have no idea who tried to kill you today or how they found you?”
“None at all.” Once again, Scot was lying. He did have the begi
“Scot, someone knows you’re here. This is serious. I am worried about you. It was one thing when you told me everything was going on back in the States, but whatever this trouble is, it’s followed you here. We should get you help.”
“No. No help, Jack. I can handle this.”
“Scot, I know someone I think can help you.”
“Jackie, I mean it. No help. I can get myself out of this.”
“Before or after you get shot at again?”
“What are you talking about? This?” he asked motioning to his bandaged arm. “It’s just a flesh wound. I’ll bite the legs off of anyone who tries anything else.”
“Monty Python, very fu
“Actually, what I need is some soup and then a short nap. Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”
“I wish I could believe you.”
Jackie left the room and returned twenty minutes later carrying a tray with rolls, butter, soup, and a dish of ice cream.
“The car will be parked next to the bakery, two blocks down. I’ll leave the keys under the mat,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“Promise me you’ll be careful?”
“I promise.”
“I’m worried about you, Scot.”
“Me too, Jack. Me too.”