Chapter 3 - THE BOY IN BED NINETEEN
Lena Price met me behind the medical wing's supply door. Her white coat was wrinkled. She looked as if she hadn't slept in two days.
“I thought you only wanted a training lecture,” I told her.
“I did. Before Ben Ortega went down.”
I knew that name. Rosa Ortega had called me the previous night and told me her nineteen-year-old son was unconscious at Mercy County Hospital. Ben's father, Isaac, had been my closest friend overseas. He died getting three wounded people out of a collapsed aid station. Rosa had never once asked me to repay that debt.
“Tell me everything,” I said.
“Friday night. A private field drill they called Iron Gate. Ben collapsed. The official report claims an asthma attack at nine fourteen and immediate treatment.”
“Does he have asthma?”
“No history. His hospital team thinks he suffered severe heat illness and complications from delayed care.”
She showed me two pages. One carried the academy seal. The other was a photograph of a handwritten treatment note, creased along the corner.
“Look at the times,” she said.
The official report listed first medical contact at 9:14 p.m. The nurse's handwritten note recorded a call for help at 8:52 and the arrival of an academy medic at 9:16.
Twenty-four minutes. In an emergency, twenty-four minutes can be a lifetime.
“Who wrote the note?”
“An assistant named April Finch. She quit yesterday. And now somebody has emptied her locker.”
Outside the small office, footsteps stopped. Lena swept the papers into a folder.
Chief Mercer appeared in the doorway.
“Dr. Price,” he said, “Colonel Voss wants the guest instructor off campus.”
“I'm collecting my bag,” I said.
Mercer's gaze dropped to the folder. “Medical records belong to the academy.”
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“Patients aren't property,” Lena said.
He stepped aside, smiling without warmth. “Then explain why you're holding an accident report that was shredded this morning.”
