“I’ll tell you what you want to know.” Why hadn’t I lied and given him some kind of information when he threatened me with her wellbeing? Her screams cut through the blanket of guilt smothering me.
“I’ve got to push.”
“No! You can’t! It will make the bleeding worse and you’ve already lost too much blood.” I don’t know how I instinctively know she shouldn’t push but it doesn’t matter because she did anyway. I can see the baby’s head crowning and I know I’m about to deliver this baby whether I’m ready or not.
Though the sight of blood and guts doesn’t bother me, the thought of being responsible for a mother and child’s welfare does. I have to do this right but, already, everything is going so very wrong. The memory of what the man said earlier, about not caring if she dies in a puddle of her own blood, haunts me.
I have no idea where I’m being held or if there is even anyone else in the building right now. Clearly, if someone is here and they are cold-hearted enough to listen to her blood curdling screams without helping, then the man wasn’t bluffing when he said he didn’t care about her demise. I knew enough from growing up in the streets that people could be cold-blooded and, growing up overseas, I learned that in this part of the world, lives are bought and sold cheaply.
If this woman is going to have any hope of delivering this baby safely, it is going to be by my hand because these unfeeling bastards don’t give a shit. I have no medical training and I am going on nothing but gut instinct, but I have every intention of giving this mother and child my all. I might not have much going for me in the medical training department, but I am going to give it my best shot anyway. I feel an allegiance to these two. I push away all my insecurities and focus on the task at hand. I, at least, know enough to watch for the umbilical cord and hope like heck the kid is turned in the right direction. It’s a start.
Her screams interrupt my mental checklist.
“I’ve got to push.”
“You’re bleeding too much.” I keep my voice low, barely above a whisper, and try to project serenity. Regardless of how chaotic things are right now, she needs to know that she isn’t alone.
I can see the baby’s head crowning and then the shoulders. I make certain that the cord isn’t choking him and resist the urge to pull at his shoulders as they come into view. I figure mother nature knows a hell of a lot more about birthing babies than I do. I know, instinctively, that it isn’t a good sign that he’s not crying. I have no idea if it’s a myth to pop them on the butt to get them breathing but, at this point, I’m willing to try anything. When I get no response, I gently squeeze his little cheeks open and do a sweep inside his mouth to see if his airway is obstructed. When that doesn’t work, I try breathing into his little mouth and applying gentle compressions on his chest, right at the V of his ribs.
The baby was born dead and no amount of CPR is going to change that. The mother’s head bobs and she weakly reaches for her child. I place the baby in her arms and make no effort to inform her that he’s stillborn. She’s dying and I’m not going to take away the joy she’ll receive from holding her baby in her arms. They will leave this life together and be reunited in a place much better than this cold cell they were forced to endure.
I slump down in the corner and sob. I had done everything that I could do to save them and it still wasn’t enough. No matter how many cold, uncaring people I was subjected to in my life, I just couldn’t wrap my brain around their inability to have compassion for their fellow man.
How fucking ironic was it that I couldn’t bond with people and my heart was breaking for these two. I hurt so deeply right now that I knew if I had a gun, I’d blow the man’s brains out who was responsible for this. I’d kill him and his whole crew. How many other women and children have died because of this black market baby scam?
In that moment, I make up my mind that I will take Undercover Elite seriously. I will fight for those who have no voice. I won’t spend my life being selfish and just living for me. I changed after seeing death so up close and personal. I make a decision that rather than allowing the horrid atrocity of it all to break me, I would let it mold me into a better woman. Regardless of how fucked-up I am, I have two things the people I have been subjected to up until this point in my life don’t have: heart and compassion.
Cash
We pull up in the Jeep and park it in the brush, leaving Sniper hidden in a wooded area with an M24 sniper rifle. He’ll have no problem picking off anyone who might make the fatal mistake of pulling up while we go in and get Johnnie. Waiting for the sun to go down seemed like it took an eternity and I’m not waiting anymore. If anything has happened to her, I’m going to be out for blood. Hell, I’m out for blood anyway.