Killing Dragons

Chapter 8

Eight

Thursday, February 11, 7:46 P.M. CDT

Children’s Hospital

Kansas City, Kansas

Thomas hustled down the stairs to his basement lab, taking two steps at a time. He found Ivan, his lab assistant, standing at their ancient black countertop, typing away. Ivan was a genius, with a post-doc in gene sequencing stacked onto his math doctorate.

“I have your calculations almost done,” Ivan said. The late hour thickened his Slovakian accent.

Thomas went to his desk to pick up the Red Book—the bible of pediatric infectious disease—and as he did so, his gaze fell on the framed photo of himself and his old master chief, Mel, both in Navy-issued scuba gear. An engraving on the frame read: The only easy day was yesterday. That was the motto of the SEALs. A reminder that things would just get harder.

He shifted his gaze to the other old photo he kept on his desk, this one showing a petite bottlenose dolphin with a beautiful young dark-haired woman in the background. He quickly turned away; he had to focus and figure out what was wrong with Nevaeh. What had caused the girl to go into a coma?

His phone rang—Mel. He answered right away. “Hey, Chief.”

Mel lived in Memphis on a refurbished Mississippi riverboat. Thomas could easily picture him standing on a rickety dock in the twilight, tall pines in the background, with his old flip phone to his ear.

Mel bypassed pleasantries and went straight to interrogation. “How soon can you take some time off work? It needs to be a lot of time—a sabbatical.”

Thomas’s gaze went from the old photos back to the Red Book. “I can’t take a sabbatical. Too many responsibilities.”

“Would it change your mind if I told you I’m heading down the Mississippi early next week? Now that I’ve gotten this boat back to the gleaming elegance of her youth, I’m naming her the Aggressor.”

“Sounds feminine.”

“Women are a lot like boats.”

Might as well indulge the old man. “How so?”

“Well, for one, she’s a lot of work, just to get her to the point you can take her out. And then she’s a lot of upkeep so you can keep taking her out. Boats and women need attention. You must cherish them.”

“Okay, then why are you naming her the Aggressor?”

“As sweet as my wife was, she was aggressive. And God knows aggression is what I needed in a woman, to keep me on task—and sober.”

“I would have described Binh as assertive, not aggressive, but… yeah, that wouldn’t make a very good name for a dive boat.”

“No, it wouldn’t. And you didn’t know Binh like I did. That woman could be deadly. She taught me everything I know about love and more than the Navy ever could have taught me about hand-to-hand combat.”

Thomas didn’t want to go there. He could never quite reconcile his image of Mel’s sweet wife, who made the best pho he’d ever tasted, with that of her as a Vovinam master, and he certainly didn’t want to think about Mel’s bygone love life. “So where are you taking the Aggressor, Chief?”

“My friend Dewayne down in Roatan just informed me a new dive shop is opening up at the marina where he lives, and he put me in contact with the manager. He asked if I could teach the try scuba class, but I told him I’d be better suited to teach search-and-rescue.”

“Search-and-rescue,” Thomas said. “That’s right up your alley, all right. And you could say hello to Taffy for me while you’re there.”

“You could tell Taffy hello yourself. You should go with me. It’d suit you. I can’t believe you spend your nights and days cramped up in a lab. We could work together outdoors again like in the old days.”

Thomas’s eyes drifted once again to the photo of him and Mel. “That would be great, but… I don’t see it happening with my schedule. Between hospital rounds and clinic days, interspersed with teaching medical students, research and writing… I can’t just up and leave.”

His gaze moved to the photo of Taffy and Eva. Though I’d sure like to.

The line went silent a moment. Then, as if reading his mind, Mel said, “I’ve been meaning to ask: have you kept up with Eva?”

“Other than being on the Delphi Force review board at DARPA that oversees her university grant, no.”

The truth was, he hadn’t so much as spoken a word to Eva since they interned at RIMS together, back before he started med school. She was the one who had broken things off.

Thankfully, Mel didn’t press on the subject of Eva, but he clearly hadn’t given up on the idea of getting him down to Roatan. “Listen, I really would love for you to go with me. Think about it at least?”

“I can’t, Mel. I’m about to start another clinical trial. I’m finishing up with GTAC and moving on to CRISPR. There’s hope for a more versatile cancer cure there.”

“Work can wait, man. Is it that lady doctor that’s keeping you there? Possessive vixen. You aren’t married yet, you know. You still have your freedom. Use it.”

Thomas sighed. “Yes, I’m still seeing Kat. And…” He paused. “Things have been a bit rough lately, but I’m planning to ask her to marry me this weekend. On Valentine’s Day.”

“Wow. Okay then.” That was all Mel had to say.

Thomas wasn’t sure what he’d expected—maybe a bawdy joke or some philosophical advice about marriage, but not this hesitant response. Mel was the closest thing he had to a father figure in his life, and his approval was important.

“I thought you liked her,” Thomas said. “You said so, after you visited last.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Dr. Katrina Stephenson is everything a man could want. But only if she learns to respect you. Remember what I said before: women are like boats.”

Thomas chuckled at that. “Well, old man, Godspeed on the maiden voyage of the Aggressor.”

“Don’t bid me fare-thee-wells just yet. We’ll talk again.”

Thomas got off the phone, his temples throbbing, and he could hear the blood course in his brain. As he gazed at the photo of Eva with Taffy, his mind wandered back to bottled-up memories, and his dim lab began to spin around him.

Not again.

He looked up at the fluorescent lights. When he looked away, he saw sparks. For the second time today, he was about to have a flashback…

The smell of blood fills Thomas’s nostrils as he looks down at the girl. At Eva. Tears streak her dirty face, and in her lap is the head of a young boy. Dead. His blood is everywhere, and Thomas’s gun feels heavy and hot in his hands.

Thomas startled back to reality as Ivan called his name loudly. “Dr. Sternberg?” Ivan was holding out a folder. “Here’s the table of the fractal dimensions of the cancers for your publication. I’m done with the electron microscope for now, so I’ll get it serviced and prepare for the CRISPR trial.”

Thomas nodded mutely, willing himself to breathe.

He glanced back at the Red Book. He absolutely would figure out Nevaeh’s mystery illness.

Another kid isn’t dying on my watch.