Chapter 1
My name is Samantha Sloan but I am usually called Dr Sloan or just Sam. I was born to a middle class family living in Elmhurst, Illinois which is a suburb outside of Chicago. I worked my butt off to earn a medical degree from Harvard Medical School. After my residency requirements were complete, I spent the next few years traveling from city to city, state to state, working as an independent contractor in various hospitals or medical offices.
Sometime along the way, I met Angie Hart. We found that we both worked unusual hours and shared a love of coffee. We became instant friends. Our regular meeting place was a small coffee shop on Charlotte Street located a couple of miles away from the hospital I was working at during my time in Kansas City, MO. We chatted about random things like movies or books or men. Both of us were usually exhausted and that led to some silly conversations which eventually become just laughter for no reason whatsoever.
Even after having known her for a couple of years, she is still very mysterious to me. While we have talked for hours about many things, Angie has never been one to divulge many personal details. The best I can determine, she has something to do with the FBI and has contacts in many of the military branches. Her job requires her to move often, as does mine, and she is not allowed to talk about anything, else she says she'd have to kill. Did I mention that she has a freshing sense of humor?
Out of the blue in May, I got a call from Angie asking me if I would consider a more longer tour of duty as a civilian doctor working on a military base. I did not even have to think about it. I immediately told her that I was interested in going. As a child I always dreamed of having a job where I could help others. What better way to help than to serve the men and women who give up their lives protecting our country. I certainly was not that brave. This was my chance to do my part and help these noble people. I was excited. I had no idea when, where, how long I would be going or how much the position paid. I never asked what the qualifications were or any of the other standard questions one asks on a job interview before making a decision about a career change.
Angie said that she would have to make a few phone calls and get the ball rolling. This would be a unique opportunity for both me and the government. At thirty-three, my age makes me ineligible for many positions due to lacking the years of experience required. The government however can apparently do whatever they want and Angie had recommended me for a trial opportunity. The position would allow me to work in a hospital on a military base and attend to both military, civilian and government employees or family members living on the base.
The hospital chosen was located on the Marine Corps base in Quantico, VA. After a very thorough background check and several level of interviews, the transfer was accepted and processed. I moved into a very small cape cod style home just outside the base. Since I wasn't military, housing was not provided from the government but Angie was able to make other arrangements and took care of all the details.
As an independent contractor, I had usually lived wherever the hospital administration puts me until I am moved to another location. That had been the cycle for the last few years and I was comfortable with that. Moving so often meant living light. I owned no furniture of my own as all the housing had been furnished. There were usually a few boxes that I hauled in my Daisy Dukes style white CJ-7 Jeep (although I never referred to it as Dixie like it was called on the television show). I had clothes, kitchenware, linens, and a few reminders from home. I always kept a picture of my family on the nightstand by me bed. Well get to the details of my family later. This story is about something else.
Chapter 2
No one told me that my first day working at this particular hospital was going to change the rest of my life. It was an ordinary fall day in early October. I arrived at the hospital and found my way to the administration office. Once all the formalities and paperwork was completed, I headed to the trauma center. Introductions were made with the staff working. A doctor, Paul Morgan, offered to take me on a tour of the facility. He was very friendly and smiled more than anyone I have known. I never date co-workers and rarely do I pay any attention to how attractive they might be. On that first day, I did notice however, that Dr Morgan was exception good looking. He was at least six feet tall and slender. He looked like he was probably a runner. You know that long and lean body type. He had brown eyes and dish water blond hair. He was probably in his early forties and he wasn't wearing a wedding ring. I am not sure what prompted me to look at his wedding finger or even to scan his body the way I did. This is where the real story begins.
There weren't any patients in the waiting area. I decided to check on some of the admitted patients and see if I could offer aid. I have always had this special ability to calm and relax those around me providing comfort. It was a big part of what made me decide to become a doctor.
My pager went off and the code told me that I was needed in the ER. An ambulance (or "Bus" as we call them), pulled up near the sliding doors and two men in camouflage (with a lot of blood on them) jumped out. They hoisted out the stretcher. On it was another man in camo and he was covered in blood mostly from his legs down. Sam had them head into the first open room. She pulled the curtain across for privacy.
The two men explained that they were participating in a training session that was not using live ammo. Their colonel somehow stepped on a live land mine. I asked the men to wait outside as I needed to work fast to stop the bleeding and see what could be salvaged from his legs and feet.
First glance told me it was bad. He had all his parts, but nothing was connected the way God made him. I ripped off the shreds of what was left of his pants and the towels that had been used to soak up the blood. Then I sent a nurse to get several bags of blood. He was going to need a lot. He was conscious and not screaming. He just watched silently as I worked obviously in shock.
