At the door of the operating room three men in hoods stood holding Kalashnikovs. “Doctor, you know we have nothing against you,” one of them said.
THE LAST SURGERY BY AIDA BODE 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 95
He marked the place where he would run the knife. His hands were trembling. He lifted his head seeking the assistant surgeon. But he wasn’t there. He had fled Korcha. Albania had fallen into a chaos of gang crime.
“Luke, we’re ready,” Peter said. “Patient is under anesthesia and is responding well.”
At the door of the operating room three men in hoods stood holding Kalashnikovs. “Doctor, you know we have nothing against you,” one of them said.
“Well then, why are you here if you have nothing against me?” Luke put the surgical knife back on the tool tray. “I will not operate if you don’t get out.”
“Doctor, those who want to kill him are in the hospital. We’re here to protect him.”
Luke walked past the men and out of the operating room. The hospital corridor shook with sudden cries and doo…