Damaged by Alex Kava Page A

told Platt exactly what Anslo thought of his request. He didn’t, however, refuse.
    “If you tell me what you’re looking for, perhaps I could help.”
    “I don’t know.”
    “You don’t know?”
    “No,” Platt admitted and avoided Anslo’s eyes.
    Since he arrived, Platt had tried to sift through as many of the files as possible looking for some common thread. All of the injuries had begun as compound bone fractures with deep tissue and bone exposed to open air for an extended period.
    Dr. Anslo disconnected Ronnie’s prosthetic, set it aside, and began on the surgical site just below his knee.
    “Everything looks quite normal,” he told Platt without glancing up at him. “If you’re searching for an infection, I don’t believe you’ll find it here.”
    Initially Platt had thought it might be an airborne bacterium. In Iraq he had seen a bone infection called osteomyelitis (OM), prevalent in the Middle East. It often occurred in severe fractures where the bone was left exposed. But OM wasn’t fatal or life-threatening. Sometimes, though rarely, it cost a soldier his limb. And sometimes it led to or acted as a primer for methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus , MRSA.
    Captain Ganz had told Platt there was now a compound, a bone cement pumped full of antibiotics, that allowed them to apply those antibiotics directly to the fracture site, reducing such infections. In addition, Ganz had tested for MRSA. The tests were negative. Platt should have known that it was too easy of an answer.
    If not MRSA, Platt wondered, then what? Was it possibly another deadly pathogen that resembled MRSA and was not only resistant to antibiotics but could also lie dormant, hidden inside the cells, waiting for something to trigger it into action? Could a bone infection like OM mutate into something fatal? Given the right ingredients—like an open-air wound, a deep-tissue, bone-exposed wound—anything was possible. Platt had seen it happen before. But not like this. Invisible with no initial symptoms.
    Dr. Anslo was staring at him again. The raised eyebrows showing his discontent while he waited for instructions.
    “Go ahead,” Platt told him. “Proceed with your normal routine.” But before Dr. Anslo began the Y incision down Ronnie Towers’s chest, Platt said to him, “Do you mind if I take this for twenty-four hours.” He pointed at Ronnie’s prosthetic.
    “You want to take his leg?” This time Anslo didn’t need a facial expression to show his disgust. His voice did it for him.
    Without apology, Platt said, “Yes. Would that be okay?”
    “I’ll have the diener help you fill out the necessary form. May Iproceed?” He pointed his chin toward his hands waiting over the boy’s chest.
    Platt nodded. As a medical doctor, cutting into live tissue was lifesaving. Cutting into dead tissue seemed … such a waste. He was relieved when Anslo turned his back to him so he couldn’t see Platt wince.

CHAPTER 20

    Liz felt the adrenaline kick in again. The wind continued to whip at her. It took Kesnick three attempts to deploy her within reach of the fishing cruiser. Once, the wind shoved her over it. The second time her toes brushed the rail before the waves swept the tilted deck and the boat out of reach. The whole time she kept her eye on the dog, making sure it didn’t decide to protect its master by attacking her. The dog, however, just watched.
    The third time a wave crested and shoved the boat up to meet her. Liz kicked her feet out, twisting and jerking her body until she touched the deck. She prayed that her flippers didn’t trip her as she caught the slippery railing with her heels just as Kesnick loosened the deployment cable. She slid down between the tilted deck and the railing.
    The dog had stayed put, watching his master, almost pointing his nose into the water. His eyes followed Liz. Despite the howl of the wind and the crash of the waves she thought she could hear the dog moan. That’s when she noticed