Sydney Harbour Hospital: Luca's Bad Girl

A man with a knife. A bawling baby being held to ransom. A crying woman. A terrified nurse. And gutsy Dr Mia McKenzie—aloof, frosty little Mia—standing in the thick of it.

‘What the devil is going on here?’ he demanded.

Stan swung around again, slashing the air in Luca’s general direction. ‘Stay back,’ he yelled.

Luca stopped. ‘Dr McKenzie?’

‘It’s fine, Dr di Angelo,’ she said, a placid smile plastered to her face as she inched closer to Stan. Very soon there’d be maximum force at her disposal—she could do without the Lone Ranger potentially ramping the situation up in the mean time.

Even if he did look good enough to spread on toast.

Mia’s stomach rumbled.

‘Stan here just wants a paternity test so he’s going to give me the baby and I’ll draw some blood. Right, Stan?’

‘No.’ Stan looked wildly between the two of them. ‘The baby stays,’ he insisted.

Luca watched Mia in his peripheral vision as she crept forward at a snail’s pace. ‘But how can we take blood when you’re holding a baby, Stan?’ Luca reasoned, distracting the man.

Mia, grateful if a little surprised that Luca had caught on really fast, took another step closer.

‘Stay back,’ Stan bellowed. The baby’s cries rose another octave.

‘I can’t take your blood from here, Stan,’ Mia soothed.

The adrenaline flowing through her system brought everything into sharp focus. The sweat on Stan’s brow. The harsh suck of his breath as he heaved air in and out of his lungs. The white spittle forming at the corner of his mouth. The way he turned the knife over and over in his palm and constantly shifted his weight from one foot to the other as his gaze darted between the two doctors.

But she was probably even more aware of Luca. Somehow it was he who dominated the room, not Stan. He towered over the knife-wielding man, all lean and broad shouldered, in sharp contrast to Stan’s stocky stature. And despite the deceptive casualness of his hands-in-pocket stance, Mia could see the hard clench of his jaw and sense the coiled rigidity in those muscles barely contained behind the snug-fitting polo shirt.

She reminded him of a taipan, ready to strike. Swift and deadly.

Just then there was a commotion behind them as several security staff arrived at once.

Stan looked over Mia’s shoulder. ‘What are they doing here?’ he roared, his hold on the baby tightening and causing further lusty protest.

Luca held out his hand as Stan’s agitation increased. ‘It’s standard hospital procedure,’ Luca soothed, moving a little closer. ‘It’ll be all right, though. I’m going to ask them to stand back, okay?’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, Doc,’ the chief security officer said.

‘Back! You heard him, get back!’ Stan shouted, brandishing the knife a little too close to the baby’s head.

The midwife gasped.

Luca turned to the security contingent. ‘It’s okay,’ he assured them. Then he turned back to Stan. ‘They’re going, see?’ Luca said as he heard the guards shuffling away.

Mia kept her gaze focused on Stan and the baby. ‘Okay, Stan, now we’ve done something for you, you’ve got to do something for us.’ She covered up her next step closer by holding out her arms. ‘Give me the baby. He’s scared and hungry. Listen to him. I’m sure a nice feed will settle him down and we can talk about this without upsetting him any more.’

And, frankly, the infant’s cries were getting on her last nerve. The situation was fraught enough without the distinct urgency of an escalating newborn baby’s cries.

‘She’s right, Stan,’ Luca agreed as he edged nearer too. ‘This isn’t something a baby should be part of.’

‘It’s not my fault.’ Stan’s voice cracked as his face beseeched them. ‘I work hard all day and she repays me by sleeping with half the neighbourhood.’

Mia felt a chill as if a ghostly hand from the past had stroked down her spine. She ignored it.

Luca nodded. ‘I know. Believe me, I know.’ And he did. He understood the desperation that Stan was feeling, the sense of betrayal. Intimately.

Mia glanced sharply at Luca. There was empathy, real empathy, in his tone.

‘We can talk about all that, Stan,’ Luca continued. ‘Just give the baby to Dr McKenzie.’

Stan looked from one to the other and Mia saw the uncertainty on his face, saw that even Stan in his crazed state had registered Luca’s compassion. She took advantage and moved forward slowly, unsurprised to sense Luca doing the same.

‘It’s okay, Stan, you’re doing the right thing,’ Mia reassured him.

Stan shook his head from side to side. ‘I just need to know.’

‘Of course,’ Luca murmured. ‘Of course you do, Stan.’

They were close now and Mia could sense Stan weakening. His grip on the knife had slackened. But so had his hold on the baby. Everything inside her urged her to leap forward and snatch the bawling infant from him but she knew any sudden movements would be a bad idea.

‘Give your little boy to me, Stan,’ she implored quietly.

Stan looked down at the crying bundle, the red hair even more vivid against the white of the wrap. He shook his head, his grip tightening again.

‘He’s not my baby!’ he roared, lunging the knife at her.

Everything slowed as Mia watched it come towards her chest. She wasn’t conscious of anything else, just the hypnotic arc of the blade as its point drew closer to her heart.

‘Mia!’

Luca reached out and grabbed her, pulling her towards him. The sweeping slash of the knife missed her torso completely but sliced into the flesh of her upper arm. Mia gasped as bright, piercing pain stole her breath.

Luca swore in his native tongue as his hand shot out and crushed Stan’s wrist in a vice-like grip. Stan yelped and dropped the knife.

‘Security!’

His voice cracked like a whip into the charged atmosphere and in an instant five burly guards had entered the fray. The fight instantly went out of Stan at the sight of overwhelming force.

‘The baby,’ Luca demanded, and the midwife leapt forward, snatching the squalling infant.

‘Go easy,’ Luca ordered as the guards hauled a now passive Stan away. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked switching his attention to Mia.

She nodded automatically as the baby, now safe in his mother’s embrace, began to settle. ‘I’m fine.’ Even though the hand that had instinctively covered the wound to apply pressure was sticky with her own blood. It had quickly oozed through the material of her cotton shirt.

Luca looked at the dark red blood running down her arm and shook his head. Most women he knew would have been hysterical by now. But not Mia. She’d kept her head in the face of an emotionally overwrought father with a knife and had dismissed what looked like a substantial wound as if it were a paper cut.

‘Go to the minor ops room, I’ll take a look at it.’