. . . “Are you Major Kaplan, the man who brought Ms. Roth in?”
Daniel looked up. “Yes, that’s me.”
“I’m Dr. Brice. Some good news, Ms. Roth’s wounds are bad but not life-threatening. One bullet nicked an intestine—that’s serious. But for the most part, they missed bone and vital organs. We gave her two pints of blood and a stiff round of antibiotics, cleansed and sutured her wounds. She’s got a drain tube next to her intestine. She’ll need to keep it for a few days, but barring complications, she should be out and around in a week or so.”
Daniel watched the doctor walk away and turned to AE. “Somebody needs to contact the President, Mr. Roth and Mrs. Madena. Guess I better follow the chain of command.”
He found the Vice President’s emergency number. “Mr. Vice President, we had a problem out here this afternoon. Thugs kidnapped Alicia Roth.”
“My God, Kaplan! Anybody hurt?”
“Nobody’s dead, but Alicia and Hector were both injured—gunshot wounds. Alicia’s going to be fine. Hector is still in the OR, its touch and go. Somebody needs to notify the families. Who does that, you, me, or the President?”
“Don’t know,” the Vice President answered, “I’ll call and ask him.”
Okay, here’s my number. I’ll wait at the hospital until I hear from you. Tell the President we think they’ll both make it.”
At 5:40 p.m. the Vice President returned his call. “Kaplan, this is Belson. President says I’m to make the calls.”
“That’s fine, fine with me. They’re in Holy Cross, at Nogales.”
“First, let me get my information straight, Major. Hector and Alicia were kidnapped by a gang of Mexicans and shot . . . right?”
“No, Mr. Vice President. Alicia was kidnapped. Seems the gang intended to kill her to send a message. Hector, AE Smith and I set out to get her back. In the process Hector got shot. Alicia was shot by one of the thugs as he was escaping.”
“But, Alicia’s gonna be okay . . . you’re sure?”
Daniel replied, “Doctor sounded sure. Hector got it worse.”
“This gang, they were Mexicans?”
“Yes, four Mexicans.”
“And . . . they all got away?”
Daniel glanced at AE. “One got away. The others are dead.”
“I think that will be sufficient for now. Of course we’ll want a full report. Tell Alicia and Hector the President and I send our best wishes for a speedy recovery.”
“I will do it. Thank you, Sir.”
Ten minutes later Daniel received another phone call. “Daniel Kaplan speaking.”
“Kaplan, this is Joseph Roth. What the hell’s goin’ on down there?”
“We had a problem down here, Sir.”
“Problem my ass, my daughter’s been shot. That’s no problem, that’s a goddam catastrophe!”
“Yes, Sir, I know, more than a problem.”
“I hear they got you on as Director of Security down there, Kaplan. Seems to me you need to be doin’ some directing then! I didn’t send my daughter down there to get her killed . . . understand?”
“I understand, Mr. Roth, and I feel awful that this happened—that somehow I didn’t prevent it.”
“Damned right! I’m comin’ down there tomorrow, and I’ll want to have a talk with you!”
“Fine, Sir. I’ll be at the hospital tomorrow around 2:00 p.m., if that suits you.”
“I’ll be there!” The receiver banged down.
At 8:30 p.m. a second doctor approached the two men . . . “You the ones here for Mr. Madena?”