White Squad. Annalu BragaЧитать онлайн книгу.
tired. I feel this treatment is making me weak. Can't we take a break?
– Chemotherapy is like that. It takes time for a person to recover. The feeling of weariness is normal, after all, we are facing an enemy. The process to slow down cancer cells reproduction and the tumor is painful, but this is our challenge: mine and yours. Imagine that this is an enemy that you have to fight every day: this is how chemotherapy works. You will see that all this effort was worth it. How are the headaches?
– Come and go. Only the tiredness is wearing me down.
– It's natural, so let's continue with the treatment. In a month from now you will have blood tests to assess the platelets condition.
– Conrado, I'm not sure I want to continue with this. I know this cancer is malignant and tends to spread. I'm going to die, aren't I? Tell me the truth, you have become my friend, you can be absolutely sincere.
– Haroldo, chemotherapy is the only proven tumor inhibition technique, without it, we have no alternatives.
– My granddaughter is insisting that I travel with her. She wants to take me to Canada, the weather is mild at this time. I have a good reserve of money and I want to use it, after all, life without Bete is very hard. Old and alone, it is very difficult.
– Your granddaughter is an example of a girl, she worries, one notices that she loves you and that is admirable, but I believe it is not your time yet. Wait for another six months, the treatment term, then you travel, agreed?
Conrado says goodbye to him with a light hug, asking for a little more patience. The old man looks disappointed. Conrado puts Haroldo's file under a pile of paper and consults the secretary about the next patient. His last generation cell phone rings. The man identifies himself as police officer Martins and asks for a patient's medical record. Conrado claims that he has already provided the death certificate, but he counters that the document is vague and contains only the main factor: vital organs failure due to hospital infection. Conrado insists that the medical record would be of no value to the police, just technical information.
– But I need the details of her death, even if it is just an embellishment for journalists.
The doctor ensures he will provide the papers by the end of the week.
Satisfied, Martins, gets up from his desk, evaluating his reflection in the police station´s mirrored glass. A man of average height, white and with a spiked haircut, he looks cool today . He goes around the room, tuning his charm, aiming at the boss's secretary at the end of the corridor. He leans over her table and looks down at the mulatto woman´s cleavage, under her long braided hair. His eyes are of a bright blue color so attractive she could not escape his sight.
– Two hours in the saloon, but it's worth it," the 20-something mulatto woman insinuates. She emits body waves in skinny jeans and a combined turquoise top. Martins puts his hand on the braids and slides towards her breasts. Suzi stops him by reminding him about her boyfriend, "a sturdy wall".
– I know, the boss! – completes Martins and the secretary boasts about it. – Suzi, you're lucky the boss's wife has no idea.
People are approaching and Martins controls himself. Justifies himself with a message to his chief about the medical record request. He looks at the bottom of his colleague's knitted top and leaves, realizing that he has again lost the chance to get the boss's girl to bed.
In the Hospital surgical center, the surgeon finishes the procedures at the boy, who presents a strong hemorrhage in his chest region. He removes the bullet and deposits it on a metal tray. Julio has his moment and analyzes the bullet's curve trajectory, sliding over the utensil, making an irritating noise. The experienced doctor, in his forty-five years, has a curriculum considered normal in the balance of losses and gains. He has worked in the hospital's emergency department for five years and knows how things go. He gets out of surgery, takes off his gloves and washes his hands, watched anxiously by the young woman with braces on her teeth, unsuccessfully wiping out her tears outside the watch-window: Margo, leaning against the room door, approaches him.
– He's young and will survive. The bullet was successfully removed and the bleeding stopped. Everything went well – the doctor tries to comfort her.
– Save my boyfriend, he's an angel.
– Calm down, the first 24 hours are the most critical. After this phase, the organism will start reacting with its own defenses against the infection. He will be able to recover.
– But what do I say to Flavinho's family? His mother is desperate, she is old and has a heart problem. You know? It was our dating anniversary, one year. We were going to Leblon beach to celebrate. I asked to leave work early, if only I knew it was going to happen on the bus ...
– Young lady, think that everything will be all right. Have you eaten today? There's a cafeteria down here that sells some healthy sandwiches. Have one and go home. Write down the hospital phone and call me tomorrow morning, I'll be on call.
– I will only leave with him or with some good news.
– So, at least eat something, I don't want another patient here – he jokes, affectionately.
Two policemen stick their feet in the shack door and find Gil shot down in the abdomen. A policeman checks his pulse and realizes he is still alive, but is questioned by the colleague, interrupting the rescue.
-He´s alive. The thug still breathes.
– Let's see if he spits all out before he dies – shaking the wounded man. – You are the one called PP, Paulo Peão, isn't that right, buddy?
Gil makes the sign of the cross, swearing that it is not true. .
– Of course you are. This guy looks just like the PP´s photo – comparing with the picture– Look here.
His partner refrains.
– Shot in the abdomen. I will request the rescue vehicle – he tells his partner.
The bad cop sticks the barrel of the pistol in Gil's abdomen wound, while he´s dying on the floor.
– Will you talk or will I have to put another bullet in your “horns”, huh?
Gil just makes a painful sound.
– PP, where's the powder? Where the fuck did you hide the drug? Tell me right now or I´m going to kill you!
Blood drips onto the pale t-shirt and spills on the clay floor.
– Are you going to talk or would you prefer to take it in the pipe? – announces, turning the wounded body until the barrel of the gun touches his ass. – Aren't you going to spill? Ah, it's because you like it. Gildinha here is good, she is hot ... She gives it to you like no one! She´s tough and sure of it. Do you want to see?" Come and see how sweet she is too ... – he threatens, passing the gun on him from front to back.
His colleague catches the scene.
– Stop it, the guy is already dying! Are you gonna end his life here, with everyone watching?
– Positive. This one has a certain destination already . He looked for it, found it, "bro". He's fucked up now.
The ambulance arrival is a lifesaver and the policeman retreat, leaving the rescuers in action. The angry cop begs for death in the first bar on the way home.
The following day's newspapers feature the headlines: Drug War leaves a man seriously injured. The criminal, known for committing crimes for pure dilettantism, is in a coma at hospital.
– Dilettantism? The guy just ‘ finished’ people that messed with whom he liked, that was it. – was the general comment in the nicest bar in the favela, with a jukebox, karaoke, DVD, internet and, of course, stupidly cold beer, even some imported.
– Don't you understand that these newspaper guys like to embellish their articles?– says Deise, a black woman with full breasts, large ass and brightly black eyes.
– Speak up, Deise! – The woman able of creating light in the