"Oh, how I sometimes yearn to be free of diplomatic restraints," Silvio said. "You may not quote me, of course, but I couldn't have said it any better myself."
Charley chuckled. "Thank you, sir."
"I expect you're still waiting for the young lady to come out of the operating room?"
"Yes, sir."
"Please let me know as soon as you know something," Silvio said. "I just sent a car to pick up Dr. Mellener to take him to Jorge Newbery to meet the pilot and see what medical equipment is on the Gulfstream."
"Thank you." [TWO] After talking to the ambassador, Castillo had just enough time to see that the battery on his cellular was running low and to slip it in his pocket when the door to room 677 swung inward and two somewhat burly nurses in operating-room-blue uniforms pushed in a gurney.
A good deal less gently than Charley would have preferred, they transferred the body on the gurney to the hospital bed, and connected it to an array of wires and clear plastic tubing. It was only after the heavier of the two nurses had settled in a chair by the side of the bed- it looked as if she planned to be there for a while-that Charley could get close enough to the bed to get a look at Betty.
All of Betty's body but her face and one arm was wrapped in pale blue sheets, and most of her face was hidden under bandages. What he could see of it was grayish and looked distorted.
He felt woozy again.
The door swung open and Dr. Santa Claus waddled into the room. His surgical mask was hanging from his neck and his surgical blues were blood-spotted.
He smiled at Charley and held up both hands, balled into fists with the thumbs extended.
Then he saw Charley's face.
"Get out of that chair," he ordered the nurse, as he quickly and firmly led Charley to her chair and sat him down in it. "Put your head between your knees," he ordered, as he firmly shoved Charley's head into that position.
Charley had no idea how long he was in that position, for the next thing he became aware of was a vial of aromatic spirits of ammonia under his nose.
He pushed it away and sat up.
"Usually," Dr. Santa Claus observed dryly, his German accent subtle yet clearly evident, "I have to do that to husbands who insist on seeing the miracle of birth themselves. Are you all right?"
Charley felt Dr. Santa Claus's hands on his face, and then became aware that the surgeon was holding his eyes open, apparently to examine them. Then he answered his own question. "You're all right."
"Thank you," Castillo said, then: "How did the operation go?"
"Procedures, plural," the surgeon said. "The trauma to the wound in the patient's leg was far less severe than it could have been. There was some musculature damage, and she will find walking painful for some time.
"Vis-a-vis the wound in the groin area: I saw no damage of any consequence to the reproductive organs…"
What the fuck does that mean? "No damage of any consequence"?
"… and while the area will likely be quite painful for some time-contributing to the discomfort when the patient moves-I can see no indication that the patient will not fully recover."
Well, thank you, God, for that!
"The trauma to the patient's jaw is problematical. The initial trauma, plus the trauma caused by the removal of the projectile, which was rather deeply embedded, caused both fracturing and splintering. I have immobilized her jaw, which means she will not be able to take solid food for some time. Just as soon as Dr. Koos is available-"
"He's the fellow who's skiing?"
"Right. I'd like him to look at the patient."
"Doctor, I've arranged for an airplane to fly her to the United States as soon as she is able to travel. Can you tell me when that will be?"
The surgeon did not reply directly.
"There's a very good orthognathic surgeon at the University of Pennsylvania Hospital," he said. "Chap by the name of Rieger. William Rieger."
"What kind of a surgeon?"