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The Recovery Assignment. Alison RobertsЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Recovery Assignment - Alison Roberts


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bloodline in her family tree. She looked, Hawk had to admit, like some native American princess and the overall effect was unusual enough to have been startling.

      Hawk turned off the siren as their progress slowed to a crawl. He eased the car onto a footpath to skirt a line of cars that had no hope of manoeuvring to let them through. Pedestrians flattened themselves against a fence as a blip on the siren warned them what was happening. Hawk could see the flashing lights of other emergency vehicles in the distance but even now it was hard to concentrate solely on the task ahead of them.

      It was more than irritating. Hawk had only been in her company for about ten minutes and it was already proving difficult to fight the distraction. He’d never seen anyone like her. On the positive side, being thrown into a job with her meant that he couldn’t escape. The startling effect would wear off more quickly and at least he knew there was no possibility of being distracted by a genuine attraction to the woman. No hint of bounce there. Or even a sense of femininity. Charlotte’s clear, golden-brown eyes advertised steely determination and a brain that was active enough to mean he needed to stay on his toes. That game-playing scenario with their names hadn’t gone over her head and Hawk had the uncomfortable feeling that he hadn’t actually scored any points at all.

      A police officer let Hawk’s vehicle through the cordon and pointed towards a potential parking area behind a fire truck. An ambulance was parked at right angles to the fire appliance, its back doors open towards the car crumpled against the concrete post. Hawk glanced at the body lying between the ambulance officers. The man’s clothing had been cut to expose his chest. A male paramedic was taping an IV line to one arm. He lifted his hands and leaned back on his heels as the other paramedic pressed paddles onto the victim’s chest. Hawk grimaced at the convulsive jerk their patient made.

      ‘Doesn’t look very good,’ he muttered.

      ‘They’re defibrillating him so at least there’s some sign of cardiac electrical activity.’

      ‘What?’ Hawk’s head swivelled. He’d forgotten he wasn’t with someone who knew as little as he did about medical matters. ‘I thought they only zapped people if the heart had stopped. Flat-line stuff.’

      ‘Shocking someone can only interrupt and potentially reset the electrical activity. If there’s a flat line on the screen it means there’s no signal present so shocking someone isn’t going to do anything other than burn a bit of heart muscle.’

      ‘Oh.’ Hawk didn’t enjoy feeling ignorant. In future, he was going to keep his mouth shut and save himself a lecture.

      ‘The heart has stopped in that it’s not functioning as a pump, though,’ Charlotte added. ‘It’s usually fibrillating, which is a kind of fast wiggle that can’t produce an output—which is what creates a pulse.’

      ‘So that’s why it’s called a defibrillator.’ The annoyance of having his lack of knowledge exposed was replaced by a flash of satisfaction in learning something new. Hawk shook his head. ‘I’d never even thought about it.’

      ‘Why should you have? We gain expertise in what we’re trained in.’

      ‘Exactly.’ Hawk’s glance at Charlotte was speculative. ‘So are we going to get on with our job or do you want to go and help out with the victim?’

      ‘That’s my flatmate, Laura,’ Charlotte responded. ‘She and her partner, Tim, are both paramedics. They know what they’re doing.’

      ‘What are they doing?’ Hawk stared through the wind-screen as he opened his door. He hadn’t recognised the paramedics who had been listening to his talk yesterday. Funny, Laura looked far less mousy performing her duties. She looked competent…and busy.

      ‘Laura’s intubating him. It secures the airway and makes breathing for the patient far more effective.’ Charlotte pushed her door shut. ‘Let’s see if they have anything to tell us before we start on the scene, shall we?’

      Hawk usually stayed well away from any paramedics when they were obviously occupied with trying to save someone’s life. His protocol dictated reporting in to any senior police or fire officer on scene to start gathering information, but Charlotte had already stepped towards the paramedics and Laura had spotted her.

      ‘Hi, Charlie! You’re on the job early.’

      ‘No time like the present. This is my partner, Owen.’

      Laura tied the tape securing the endotracheal tube in place. She attached the ambubag and then glanced up briefly as she pulled her stethoscope from around her neck.

      ‘We met yesterday.’ She nodded. ‘Hi, Owen.’

      Hawk simply nodded. He hated being called Owen.

      ‘Do you need a hand?’ Charlotte asked.

      ‘You could bag him while I draw up some drugs…if Owen can spare you, that is. Back-up should only be a minute or two away.’

      Charlotte glanced at Hawk, clearly requesting permission to give assistance, and to his surprise, Hawk found himself nodding. It was only for a minute or two after all and he could easily use the time to gain an overall impression of the scene.

      Laura was silent for a few seconds as she squeezed the ambubag and checked for air entry by listening over both sides of the man’s chest with her stethoscope. ‘We’ll go into Emergency under CPR if necessary but I’m still hopeful. It could be that he was unconscious for a while before actually arresting. Bystander CPR was initiated quickly and he was still in coarse VF by the time we arrived.’

      ‘VF?’ Hawk couldn’t help exposing his ignorance again.

      ‘Ventricular fibrillation.’ Charlotte gave him a quick glance. ‘The worst kind of wiggle. The finer it is, the closer to a flat line it is. If it’s coarse there’s more chance of converting it to a useful rhythm.’ She turned back to Laura. ‘Was the arrest witnessed?’

      ‘Kind of.’ Laura’s partner, Tim, had restarted chest compressions. ‘The car was seen to pick up speed as it came downhill and it veered across the other two lanes and left the road. It cut one car off and the witness said that the driver appeared to be slumped over the wheel.’

      ‘Who was the witness?’

      ‘That guy over there in the pinstripes. He was the one who made the triple-one call. He started the CPR as well as soon as they got him out of the car. He’s a bit shaken up,’ Laura added. Her smile at Charlotte was sympathetic. ‘You might like to tell him what a great job he did.’

      ‘I’ll go and talk to him,’ Hawk said. Another ambulance was pulling up and he felt out of place. So much for his statements from only yesterday about being on the same team and the desirability of knowing as much as possible about how each branch of the emergency services did their jobs. If Hawk had been that interested in what paramedics did, he would have become one himself, instead of joining the police force. Knowing each other’s jobs too well meant that it was possible to step in and assist instead of getting on with what they were supposed to be doing.

      As Charlotte was demonstrating so ably. A second shock had elicited a normal but very slow heartbeat. Charlotte was handling supplies from the paramedic kit with the ease of complete familiarity. Her long fingers were snapping ampoules and drawing up drugs into syringes. Hawk found himself mesmerised for a split second. Her fingers were as long and elegant as the rest of this woman. The flash of curiosity regarding what they might feel like touching his body came from absolutely nowhere and it was as startling as it was disturbing.

      It was easy to summon anger to blanket such an undesirable emotion. This was precisely what Hawk had feared might happen. His partner was doing someone else’s job and he was being left to work alone on the tasks she had actually been employed to do.

      Except that she was only a step behind him by the time Hawk had conferred briefly with the scene commander and opened the back hatch of the squad car to get the equipment he needed. He picked up a digital camera and a can of spray paint.

      ‘Have you


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