Page 16 of Jake

We came to a stop, allowing her to approach, and Father stepped forward. I noticed him glance at the woman’s breast to read her name badge.

“Sister Rosanna, I’m Andreas Masterton.” He held an arm out, indicating the rest of us who were gathered around. “These are my sons Connor, Quinn, Logan, Daly, and soon-to-be family when his daughter marries my son, Alex Bonello. We are here to find out how my son, Jake Masterton, is faring after being brutally beaten.”

Yep, I had never known my father to hide the reason for any of our injuries. I guess he wasn’t about to begin making up fanciful stories now in an attempt to avoid questions.

“Of course, sir. I know of the young man to whom you refer. Please, follow me and I will take you to where your wife is waiting for the doctors to speak with her.”

We followed the sister across the highly polished wooden floor and turned into a hallway with numerous doors opening off the length.

I peered into some as we passed. The rooms were crude and basic; each was furnished with four metal bed frames holding thin mattresses covered in blue and white ticking. A small metal chest of two drawers, partially rusted, sat beside each bed, and rails crisscrossed the ceiling holding beige privacy curtains.

When we came to a pair of wooden doors at the end of the corridor, we turned to our left and were led into a room where Mother sat peering through a window overlooking the harbour. The sister didn’t join us, and the moment Mum spotted my father, she stood and pushed into his open arms.

I thanked Dau and Molong, who’d accompanied her, and asked them to occupy themselves in town until 6 p.m., when they were to meet us at the hotel where we intended on staying. Logan and Daly would take the pair, along with Alex, back to the aircraft to join the other men at that time, and they would fly back to Popondetta while the rest of us remained. It was highly unlikely Jake would be able to travel any time soon.

After the men left, we all sat and Father asked Mother if she’d spoken with a doctor.

“After we arrived, the driver left us and went inside to get someone to help. Two orderlies came out and they helped get Jake out of the car and onto a stretcher. They brought him inside and wheeled him through the doors just outside this room. Barry went with them.”

“Did he regain consciousness?” Father asked, concern thick in his voice.

Mother brushed at her tears. “No. There was nothing, Andreas. Barry said it’s probably better that he doesn’t come around until they can manage his pain.”

“Has a doctor spoken with you?”

Mother shook her head. “One of the nurses brought me a cup of tea and asked if I wanted a sandwich, but I don’t want to eat. I haven’t seen anyone else and it’s been such a long time, Andreas. I don’t know if my baby is dead or alive.”

Mother sobbed into Dad’s chest. I patted her hand and stood. “Let me see what I can find out.”

As I headed across the room, Barry stepped into the doorway wearing scrubs and was in the process of removing a mask. Realising he was there to update us all, I returned to where I’d been sitting alongside Quinn. Barry poured himself a glass of water from a jug on a table by the window, pulled a chair in front of us, and sat down.

“Fuck, where do I start?”

“Is he alive?” It was the priority question I wanted answered.

“Yes, but I have to be honest, the chances of him staying that way are very slim. He’s already suffered two cardiac arrests, and it took longer than I’d like to get him back from the first one.”

Mother wailed into Dad’s chest as Barry continued.

“We have him intubated and on life support, but I have to warn you, the equipment here is crude and outdated. I spoke with Doctor Tomas Misterini an hour ago and he is on his way here from Lae Hospital. Dr Lopres, the Chief Medical Officer at this hospital, has arranged his transport, and some more modern equipment, via private aircraft. Misterini was trained in Australia and is the best trauma surgeon in PNG. He’s actually one of the best in the world. Jake needs emergency surgery and is being readied so it can be done as soon as Misterini arrives.”

“What surgeries?” Logan was the closest of all of us to Jake and his concern was palpable.

“Initial tests show his spleen and left kidney will have to be removed, and his left lung needs repair where it has been punctured by a rib. He has numerous fractures—four ribs on the left, two on the right, nose, cheeks, eye cavities, radius in the left arm, and tibia in the left leg. My guess is that he was thrown from a vehicle when they delivered him at the airstrip, landing on his left side, which was responsible for some of the breaks and severe abrasions down his side.”

Barry paused and locked his eyes on mine. The way he looked at me had been a sure indication in the past that the words he spoke next were going to set my blood boiling.

“His penis is a fucking mess, most of which will heal on its own, but he has a penile fracture that will require microsurgery.”

“JesusfuckingChrist,” Daly muttered.

“Tell me he’ll be full-functioning and able to have children.” I couldn’t contemplate how my brother would feel if he could no longer perform as a man. He’d recover from everything else, but being a limp-dick would destroy him. I wanted to have Russo’s dick sliced off all over again.

“It will take time, but even as severe as the injury is, he should recover fully. At least physically.”

“What do you mean, at least physically?” Quinn demanded to know.

“Sometimes, with major injuries to the penis, it can be a mental issue. They are so scared they won’t be able to perform that they often can’t. I’ll do what I can to help Jake through this difficult time. I’m pretty sure his agreeing to see a psych will be out of the question, I doubt Jake would even take it into consideration, so I think one of the whores at your brothel might be of help, Connor.”