The doctor beganto press the scalpel against the victim’s flesh. The patient, though, wasmoving slightly.
Adele heard moremuttering. The second man, also with a face mask, muttered in German as well.Adele leaned in, listening, translating in her mind.
“…anesthesiahasn’t fully taken effect,” the man said, quietly. “He’s still conscious.”
Adele shivered,and the sensation had nothing to do with the cool air of the room. The firstman, with the scalpel, hesitated, glancing back. His voice came faded, distantfrom the room, but Adele could still make out the words. “How much longer untilhe’s out?”
“No telling; I’venever operated in this setting before.” The second man was fidgeting withfrantic movements, glancing up and down, his eyes especially settling on theguns in the hands of the two men behind him. He looked uncomfortable; clearly,he was younger than everyone else in the room, perhaps only in his mid-twenties.
Despite his facemask, Adele could tell he was panicking. “Calm yourself,” the first doctor saidin German, his voice calm, soothing. A voice practiced in eliciting whateveremotion he needed in volatile situations. “It’s fine, it’s going to be fine.”
The youngerdoctor was shaking his head, but seemed to settle at the pacifying tones fromthe first.
Adele brushedagainst John, glaring. But John held up a finger, still waiting, still shakinghis head.
“We need to go innow, before they start cutting,” she whispered in a hiss.
John turned onher, his eyes wide, scary. Adele had seen this before. John was usuallycarefree, irreverent. But sometimes, in moments of action, he would zero in,focus. It would be like adrenaline possessed his body, and he wouldn’t fullyregister what she was saying. He shook his head again. He held up two fingers,then gave his gun a shake. Then he held up four fingers on his guiding hand.
She frowned. Ofcourse there were four of them. She could see that. Five if they counted the oneon the bed.
She began toprotest again, but just then, she heard more voices. The sound of boots againstdusty floors heralded two more men with guns emerging from behind theseparating wall where they had been standing out of sight.
John nodded now,his eyes narrowed, his gun still raised.
Adele felt herheart skip. She hadn’t even noticed them. That’s what John had meant. Fourattackers. Four. If it had been up to her she would’ve gone right away. Itwould have cost them both.
She felt atingle along her fingers and noticed her hands trembling. Adele squeezed herfingers around her weapon, trying to settle the sudden surge of horror.
John pressed hishand against the door, easing it open even further.
One of the newarrivals shouted in French, “What are you waiting for?”
The older doctorreplied, his French accent broken from German syllables as he tried to speak. “Thepatient isn’t under yet. Anesthesia is still taking effect. He’s not numb.”
There was apause and a muttered exchange in a language between the gunmen which Adelecouldn’t understand. One of them, a bearded fellow with dark, dangerous eyes,shook his head with a quick jolt. “Start now. We don’t have time.”
The doctor, in awheedling tone which threatened condescension, said, “You don’t understand. Theman will feel it. It will compromise the kidney. His body could go into shock.”
The beardedSerbian paused a moment, trying to understand the words, despite the brokenaccents. Then he snarled, stepped forward, and raised his gun, pointing it at thedoctor’s forehead.
The doctorsqueaked, quickly raising his hands, the scalpel glinting in the floodlightfrom the umbrella fixture. “Okay,” he said quickly, “just give us a fewminutes. A few minutes and the anesthesia will take effect.”
“No,” said theman with the gun and the beard. “No minutes. Now.”
The older doctorshook his head, muttering to himself. The younger man in scrubs was trembling,shaking his head from side to side.
The older doctortried to speak again in a reasoning tone, saying, “You don’t understand, if Istart cutting now, he will feel it. Anesthesia hasn’t taken effect.” He spokeslowly this time, with deferential tones, as if hoping a sudden courtesy in hisposture would elicit the response he wanted.
But men withguns, in Adele’s experience, weren’t particularly fond of manipulation. Thebearded man glared at the doctor, paused, glanced at his Serbian friends, andmuttered something. One of the others replied. And then the bearded man turnedhis gun on the second doctor and fired. A loud blast boomed in the warehouse.
John didn’t evenflinch, his hands still steady. Adele, for her part, jolted, her own weapontapping against the metal door. Thankfully, the sound was drowned out by theresponse from the room. The three other Serbians seemed to have known what wascoming. The doctor, though, yelled in horror as his assistant fell over, abullet hole in his left eye, blood spreading out on the dusty floor.
“What did youdo?” the doctor shouted. But the older German surgeon quickly fell silent andbacked up again as the gun leveled on him once more.
“Now,” said theSerbian in broken French.
Muttering tohimself, the doctor turned toward the trolley, trying to soothe himself withquiet, muttered comments. He raised his knife and pressed it to the chest ofthe man on the table.
The man fidgeteduncomfortably and emitted a quiet croaking sound. Not quite words, but they hadthe cadence of speech, as if he were trying to talk but couldn’t.
“I’m sorry,”Adele heard the German doctor mutter. He pressed his scalpel against the victim’schest.
“John,” Adelesaid in a deadly serious voice, “now.”
John was alreadyon the move. He shoved the door open with his shoulder, pushing it into thewell-lit section of warehouse.
John fired once,twice. Two bodies hit the ground in quick succession. The two men whom Adelehad spotted last, including the bearded man, collapsed onto the doctor he’dshot, their blood mingling with that of their victim’s.
For Adele’spart, she shouted at the top of her lungs, “DGSI! Hands in the air—we have yousurrounded!”
A brief momentof consideration passed where everything seemed to freeze for that fraction ofa second where vital decisions were made.
The tworemaining gunmen had half-turned, facing John and Adele. But at Adele’s shouts,they both seemed to reach the same decision, and their hands jolted to the sky,stiffened.
“Weapons down!”Adele shouted, voice swelling the room. She spoke with far more confidence andauthority than she felt.
The men with theguns slowly began
