Page 6 of Operation: Discovery

“Why? What’s wrong?” Dee came around the back of the car to his side.

“Look.” He didn’t want to say anything out loud and alarm the woman until he was sure there was something wrong going on. He’d much rather get them to safety without letting whoever was putting on this farce know he was on to them.

“Free youth vaccinations, ten and under.” Dee read the sign.

“That, coupled with the signs being handmade, not printed, the location, no medical vehicles here for controlling the biofluids and vaccination distribution … This is not what it seems.”

“Let’s go.” She adjusted her purse firmly on her shoulder and headed for the front door.

Brendon followed until they reached the sidewalk, then kept pace with her.

Inside, pandemonium reigned. Children were crying and clinging to their mothers. Other mothers were frantically pacing back and forth. A snippet of conversation chilled his insides.

“She’ll be back with you momentarily. I know this is taking longer than expected but look at the line of people.” The nurse gestured to the room.

Why would a child be separated from their parents for a routine vaccination? He rolled toward the mom who’d just asked about her child as she plopped back into her chair, obviously frustrated.

“Excuse me,” Brendon locked his brake in front of her seat. “I’m Brendon Ruse, clinical psychologist.”

The mother tilted her head to the side. “I’m worried about my child. I don’t need a psych evaluation.”

“I know. I heard you speaking to the nurse. How long has your child been away from you?” He needed the answer now. Who knew how long this operation had been open?

The woman looked at her watch again. Brendon had seen her look at it three times just since they’d come through the door. “An hour. How long does it take to do a couple of shots? He was mostly up to date, but things have been hard. My husband lost his job and paying for the insurance between jobs …” She looked away. “School starts in a few weeks, and he needed to be up-to-date.”

And the grim realization that these people probably knew parents would be in this situation and had used it to their advantage settled over him. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He wasn’t a doctor in that he didn’t have a PhD. He had a PsyD so he’d attended doctoral college like other doctors, but the focus had been on the mind, not on physiology. He turned his chair and headed toward the nurses’ station at the front.

The nurse sitting at the desk doing intake had a single laptop, a box of medical masks, and a cell phone. Most alarming, though, was the fact that she was dressed in full surgical scrubs and gown. No one would recognize the person sitting there if they passed on the street ten minutes from now. The only stitch of skin visible was a small slit between her face mask and the surgical cap.

“I need to speak to the head nurse, please.”

“So does everyone else. If you’ve checked in, take a seat,” the feminine voice said, and she motioned toward the waiting room without looking up from her computer.

Dee gently squeezed his shoulder. “I’m sorry. This is Dr. Brendon Ruse. He’s here to help today.”

Brendon stiffened. He hated lying, but this one might get him behind those doors to see what was happening. The nurse looked up at him. “I don’t recognize you. We only work with our own staff. I don’t know who sent you, but we don’t need any additional help.”

The waiting room was proof that they were in need, though he could understand why a medical facility, if this actually was one, wouldn’t let just any doctor or nurse off the street assist in an urgent situation.

“Mommy!” a child screamed from behind the door and all the waiting parents looked from one to the other.

If he were them and didn’t know what he knew about trafficking, he’d probably be sitting there too, instead of trying to bust the door down to get back there. There was a barrier in health care, a willingness to trust those who were supposed to help. A willingness to give up a few minutes of control in order to get what the child needed. But by the looks on their faces, these parents were questioning their choices right now.

Brendon rolled to the door. Unless it was locked, he’d be able to go through. This was a community center, not a clinic where the doors were all locked by security cards. The narrow opening between two counters slowed him slightly as the nurse ran toward him.

“You can’t go back there. It’s not your turn yet.”

ChapterThree

Dee stepped in the nurse’s way, giving Brendon time to get through the door. One of the mothers raced after him. He wasn’t sure if he should allow her or not, but she had just as much right to see what was going on as he did.

Once the door closed to the private area, he found more screaming and crying than could be heard up front with all the noise from the parents and the barrier of the heavy door. The mother frantically shook the first two doorknobs and ignored his order not to touch anything. There had been music or some other noise up front to drown out the sounds, but he hadn’t noticed that until it was absent.

He pushed forward and stopped at the first door where the mother had shaken the knob. Since the scene was already compromised, he gripped the knob and twisted, pushing it open. He found six young children crouched on the floor. All of them looked up, wide-eyed and terrified. “Mom?” a little girl’s mouth quivered. “I want my mom.”

He had to make sure all the other rooms were clear before he could send these children out into the front. Then again, if the parents up there knew what was going on back here, he’d have help.

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