Abandoned: MIA in Vietnam by Bill Yancey Read Free Book Online

arms, legs, and neck strain when he pulled the rope with both hands. The engine roared to life, making a pleasant buzzing sound.
    The old man steered the sampan toward the west and the setting sun. Both younger men clapped Byrnes on the back. One went to the container of fresh water and filled the metal cup with water. He offered the cup to the old man, who refused it. Pointing to Byrnes, the old man said, “Con co,” and smiled. The American drank his second cup of water in two days.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 6
     
    Wolfe thought he had found Amit Gadhavi, MD, on the third floor of the patient tower, in the Medical Intensive Care Unit. An older man, obviously the resident’s mentor and cardiologist, dictated to the doctor-in-training as the young man took notes on his cell phone, swiping on the face of his phone as quickly as the older man spoke.
    The two wore long white coats and stood at the counter in front of the nurses’ station. Wolfe observed that the resident’s pockets held only a stethoscope, not the bundle of books, papers, and 3x5 cards that Wolfe remembered from his residency. Everything he had carried in his pockets during internship and residency in the 1970s, this resident had on his phone. Plus, access to almost all knowledge, medical and otherwise, accumulated by the human race over the last 10,000 years. Wolfe waited quietly for the two to finish their discussion.
    One of the nurses looked up from her paperwork and spoke to Wolfe, “May I help you, sir?”
    Wolfe nodded and spoke in a whisper. “I’m Dr. Wolfe. Is that young man Dr. Gadhavi?” He nodded at the dark skinned man talking with the white haired physician.
    “No, that’s Dr. Guerrero,” she said. “Dr. Gadhavi just left for a medical conference at Shands. Not two minutes ago. If you hurry, you can probably catch him in the physicians’ parking lot. It’s to the right as you exit…Oh, you’d already know that.”
    By the time she finished speaking, Wolfe was opening the door to the emergency stairway. “Thanks,” he said before the door closed behind him, muting the sound of Wolfe scampering down the stairwell.
    A handsome, well-tanned young man with a long white coat slung over one shoulder stopped at the volunteer’s desk before leaving the building. Wolfe strode up behind him, hoping this time he had the correct physician. He heard the man say, “Dr. Roberts will be fielding all calls for me until I come back tomorrow, but if you can’t get a response from him, please text me.”
    “Yes, Doctor,” a petite black woman said. She wore the standard pink volunteer’s jacket.
    “Doctor Gadhavi?” Wolfe asked quietly from behind the man.
    The physician turned and examined Wolfe closely. Seeing nothing to denote Wolfe was a hospital employee or physician, the young man assumed Wolfe to be a patient and responded curtly, “Sorry. I can’t talk right now. I’m late for a conference. Make an appointment in clinic. These ladies can help you.” He spun around and headed toward the revolving door.
    “Sorry,” Wolfe said, grasping the young physician’s arm. Gadhavi turned his head and stared at Wolfe while continuing to move in the direction of the parking lot. “I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Dr. Wolfe.”
    Not knowing Wolfe’s role at Flagler Hospital, Gadhavi stopped walking. He turned to face Wolfe. It would not behoove him to irritate someone who might have input about his rotation. “I’m sorry, Dr. Wolfe,” he said. “I will be late for medical rounds if I don’t leave right now. Can this wait? I’ll be back tomorrow.”
    Wolfe beamed. “No problem,” he said. “We can talk while you drive. I did an internship at Shands about thirty years ago. They called it University Hospital then. I’d like to see how your instructors do medical rounds these days.”
    Gadhavi continued to walk toward his car. “I’m not coming back until tomorrow. How will you get back