Perfect Match (37 page)

“I came to your country with an open heart, but I was met
with disappointment.” She paused a moment. “I can’t imagine what it would be
like growing up in China, and you might wonder the same thing about my country,
the United States. Each of us comes from great countries. Our governments
struggle to build a relationship, but I think we can do it quicker as
individuals, if we are honest with each other.

“During my meeting with you, I wore the respect I have for
the great people of China around my neck and draped across my heart.” Madison
unfurled her bright red scarf and held it up to show that it was a scale of the
China flag with five embroidered gold stars. “The gifts I have for you were
hand-made by Natalie Washington, who runs a successful quilt shop in Eagle
Mountain, NC. The fabric came from a small struggling business in South
Carolina.

“Jia, this is for you.” Madison positioned the scarf around
her neck, and then gave her a hug. “Red looks good on you. Good luck to you in
your career.” Jia’s eyes began to water.

Madison turned to Zhi, handing him one of the white boxes.
“I learned you have a lovely wife.” Her eyes cut to Jia, and back. “I brought
her a scarf also. Give her my regards. And for you, Zhi, I have a hand-made
pocket handkerchief of the same fabric and that rich revolutionary red with
gold stars along the edging. This is not designed as the China flag, since I
had “Zhi” embroidered on the corners.” She placed it in his handkerchief
pocket. “You look ready to lead the next revolution.”

He smiled.

She gave him a hug, but he stood rigid. She said, “Zhi, I’m
not leaving until I get a real hug from you.”

Cautiously he hugged her, and whispered, “Thank you,
Madison.”

When she stepped back a small tear rolled down his cheek.

She said, “Well, thank you again. I have a few things to
cover with my team, so the two of you may be on your way.”

Zhi said, “Yes, we leave, but one question. Why you be such
a tough lady, and then you become a different person?”

Madison smiled. “I’m not really sure, but don’t you think
we’re all capable of becoming the kind of person that we need to become or
ought to become? I’ll think about that question until we meet again.”

With that Zhi and Jia collected their things and left.

Zhong said, “We have our sources positioned until they leave
the building, and they’ll be followed as needed, until we leave the country.”

“Any information on my daughter?” She glanced at her watch.
“It’s a little before midnight, Asheville time.”

“There’s a line of strong thunderstorms passing through the
North Carolina Mountains. Connections have been terrible, not so much on our
end, but theirs. A call earlier reported stable for Selena, but the second call
which got dropped indicated Selena being prepared for surgery. That’s all we
got. We don’t know the nature of the surgery. We’re still trying to also get
through to your sister-in-law. Our sources in Asheville will continue until
they get through.”

Her jaw clinched. “If anything happens to my daughter, while
I’m cleaning up after D.R. Fallington, I’ll kill him with my bare hands, and
all of you can be my witnesses!”

Mee put her hand on Madison’s shoulder. “You’re a very tough
woman. We’re going to be with you and we’re going to be positive for Selena.”

Madison’s shoulder’s slumped a little for the first time. “I
know. I know. You all have been wonderful. I’ve never seen such
well-coordinated and disciplined professionalism.”

Woo said, “Cold Steel will love to hear that.”

Mee said, “I checked flights earlier. Nothing direct out of
Hong Kong for several hours, but there is a flight coming up going to Tokyo,
from there we can get a non-stop into Atlanta, and then Asheville. It would get
you home sooner than if we wait on the other flight out of Hong Kong. Do you
feel up to it or do you need to rest a day?”

“Let’s do it. I want to be with my daughter.” Her voice
cracked.

12:15 a.m., Wednesday,
Asheville

12:15 p.m., Wednesday,
Hong Kong

Squalls of rain shoved across the city already partially
darkened by power outages. The U. S. Weather Service had issued another weather
alert…severe thunderstorms with excessive lightning and winds peaking between
2:30 and 3:40 a.m. Flash flood warnings were issued for certain areas of the
mountains.

Once back inside Cobalt Medical Center, Roscoe half-toweled
his hair again, got in the wheelchair, pulled a hospital blanket over his wet
clothes, and said, “Let’s go.”

The hospital staff person wheeled him to the elevator that
would take him to Selena, already in a surgical waiting room on the third
floor. Other surgeries had been completed or rescheduled in an effort to dodge
the unpredictable weather. Three attending nurses were nearby watching various
monitors, as they glanced at Selena.

She was resting on the bed that would take her to operating
room 13. She’d been given a low dose sedative to take the edge off of any
anxiety that was stressing her system. Her eyes were partially closed, when
Roscoe wheeled next to her bed.

He reached out and held her limp hand. “Hi Selena. It’s me,
Roscoe.”

Her eyes opened slowly, as she turned her head toward him.
Her speech was a little slow. “What are you doing here?”

“Came to check on you. Heard the good news about a kidney
being available.”

Her head shook slightly. “Probably another false alarm. I’ve
gone through this twice before only to find out at the last minute there was
some kind of glitch, and the transplant wouldn’t work.” There was a pause.
“Roscoe, I’m probably not going to make it. I’ve never felt this bad before.”
She took a breath. “Remember, I want you to see if you can get my novel
published.”

Roscoe was feeling edgy. He tried to calm himself. “Listen
to me, Selena. You’re going to publish your novel. You’re going to be okay.” He
took a pause, not knowing whether he should broach the next question, but
thought he’d better ask it anyway. “I read more of your novel. I like the name
you’ve given to the female character, Catalina. I like that, but I’m haunted by
some of the additional descriptions of her. Is Catalina a real person?”

Selena’s eyes sparkled a bit, as she looked at his. A small
smile toyed with the corners of her mouth. “Do you like Catalina?”

Roscoe caught himself, feeling a little foolish asking about
an imaginary female character in a darned romance novel. “Well…I thought she
was…was…captivating.”

Selena blinked her eyes a couple of times slowly, then
closed. “You’ll figure….” Her voice faded.

“Figure…what?”

Selena responded with silent breathing.

Roscoe motioned to the nurses. One approached. “Yes?”

“Is…is…Selena okay?”

“She’s fine. She’s resting. Her vitals are still stable.”

He nodded. “I guess the staff guy needs to take me back, but
before he does, could I have a few moments by myself?”

The nurse said, “How about that little alcove with the
window?”

“Perfect.”

She wheeled him over. He sat watching the lightning bolts
ripping through the night sky. The thunder roared as an encore. He prayed as he
watched the storm rage.
What name do you prefer? I never found out from your
preacher-woman Ramona. So, God, Creator of Everything, that’s quite a
performance out there tonight. Lots of power, I know that. I don’t understand
it, but I know it’s there, so you know what I’m about to ask. I‘ve done the
best I know with my homework. I’m submitting it to you and asking only one thing,
and that is for you in all your power to let Selena get well. I can give her my
kidney, but I know you have the final power to make it work for her. Amen.

On the third floor Dr. Sam Hertford and Dr. Jason
Frenchwater had assembled their surgical teams in a large conference room at
the end of the wing. Both doctors wanted to reconsider all the information
gathered for the transplant.

They combed through the medical files of the donor and
recipient. They questioned over and over the data put together by Trevor. They
scrutinized X-rays and scans, and compared charts and lab results. One doctor
nodded, while the other doctor shook his head.

While the storm raged outside, the tension short-circuited
the tempers in the conference room.

Hertford said, “I don’t understand why you’re balking on
this?”

Frenchwater snapped, “This is crazy, that’s why.” He waved
the computer printouts in his hand. “You’ve got some data here put together by
some hospital technician, who’s still trying to get out of a damned community college.
Hell, I’ve never heard of the guy. Trevor Drake? Who is he?”

Hertford fired back. “The reason you don’t know him is
because you never pay any attention to anyone’s name tag, you pompous ass.” His
face reddened.

“Well, that does it. I’ll not be insulted, and I will not
participate in some witchdoctor kind of operation. We’ll lose our medical
licenses. Do you understand that Hertford?” He stalked over to the window,
peering into the electrified sky.

“This young woman could lose her life tonight. Do you
understand that Frenchwater?”

He wheeled around. “Don’t try that emotional stuff on me.
I’m a doctor; it won’t work.”

The members of the two surgical teams, removal and
transplant, sat around the large conference table and either nodded or shook
their heads in agreement or disagreement as the two doctors bickered. Not the
first time they’d been part of the drama between these two renowned colleagues.

Frenchwater competed with the rumbling thunder. “Get this
Trevor guy in here, and let me meet him. I have questions for him.”

Amy, the transplant coordinator, said, “I’ve put several
calls into him, but the storm has disrupted the phones. I was able to leave one
voice message, but haven’t heard back. Don’t know where he is.”

Frenchwater ran his hand through his hair. “That figures.
He’s probably unreliable, probably left town after his little rouge laboratory
activities.” He paused a moment. “And what’s this crap about the donor without
a name? This would be a great TV show. Frenchwater and Hertford’s back alley
kidney boutique.” He gave a false laugh.

Hertford growled. “The donor’s got a name. He just wants to
remain anonymous.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. What is he, some kind of pedophile? A 38
year-old male wants to give a kidney to a 17 year-old attractive female, and
they’re unrelated? Something’s wacky with all of this.” He returned to one end
of the conference table, spilling his fistful of papers, before taking his
seat. “How’s the recipient doing?”

Amy said, as she looked at papers in her hand, “All vitals
stable, with a couple of marginals.” She rocked her right hand in the air,
indicating “iffy.”

Hertford said, “She’s waiting on me to transplant a healthy
kidney as soon as you remove it from the donor. Are you going to do this or
not, Frenchwater?”

“Of course I’m going to do the removal. I can’t believe
you’d ask me that question.”

Hertford shook his head, but chuckled. “Why, oh why, do you
put me through this…whatever about four times a year? Why?”

“Come on, Hertford, this is my way of getting psyched up on
an important case. I think of this as surgical foreplay. There’s a certain
anticipation and excitement knowing that we’re about to do something useful for
another human being.” He gave a big smile.

Hertford rolled his eyes. “Frenchwater, if you weren’t so
damn good, I’d try to have you committed to an insane asylum.”

They both laughed, and their teams joined in.

Frenchwater said, “Okay, let’s scrub up, and remove an
unnamed kidney. Since I don’t pay attention to name tags, just anyone off the
street will do as a donor.” He headed for the door, his surgical team pushing
their chairs up to the table, and following him.

Hertford said, “His name is Roscoe Fallington.”

Frenchwater stopped and turned. “The Fallington that I know?
D.R. Fallington? The most egotistical jerk in town?”

Hertford gave a low chuckle. “Well, seems like he’s changed
some.”

“Okay, while I’ve got him on the table, you make a list of
unnamed recipients that would like one of his other body parts. I’ll remove
those while I’m at it.”

Laughter thundered through the conference room as both teams
braced themselves for the coming night.

1:10 a.m., Wednesday,
Asheville

1:10 p.m., Wednesday,
Hong Kong

With a whole lot of hurrying and Cold Steel’s international
“string-pulling” Madison and her security were booked on flights from Hong Kong
to Tokyo, and then from Tokyo to Atlanta, and into Asheville. Flying time was
going to be a tight twenty-one hours. The connections would be close, and
Madison was becoming more anxious, since they still hadn’t been able to learn
any more about Selena’s status.

Madison’s thoughts went from positive to negative, as she
tried to settle into her plane seat. She kept thinking if anything bad happened
to Selena while on this trip to Hong Kong to clean up another business mess
created by D.R. Fallington, she really would kill the bastard. The more she
thought about him the more she despised him, and she could feel a certain
agitation growing toward Edna Fallington. She’d been far too lenient on D.R.
and Rodney. For chrissakes they’d almost kamikazed Fallington Enterprises. She
shook her head, as she glanced out the window.

She and her security were booked in first-class. Madison was
in a window seat. Beside her was Zhong, who would remain awake, while Mee and
Woo napped in the two seats in front of them. There would be a security person
awake at all times for the duration of the flights. Madison had never felt so
protected and yet she had this uneasy feeling, making it difficult for her to
rest in her seat.