A Father's Sacrifice

Dylan’s brows raised. “Me, of course.”

She was surprised. “You? Don’t you think you’re too emotionally involved?”

“It doesn’t matter if I am or not. There are only three neurosurgeons in the world who have the expertise to handle this intricate microscopic surgery.”

“Only three?”

He nodded grimly. “Two besides me.”

“Who are they?”

“There’s no way you’d know them. One is Mohan Patel, at the University of Mumbai in India. The other is Frederick Werner. He’s at Johns Hopkins. I studied under him.”

“Why couldn’t one of them do the operation?”

“Because Ben is my son.” His expression darkened. “I don’t need someone else to do the surgery. I’ve been preparing for this for three years. Besides, it’s all moot if I can’t complete the nerve mapping in time.”

“And the code? It’s still buggy?”

“There’s at least one more error we can’t find.” He sighed. “Campbell and I have looked at it too long. We need a fresh eye. And now we’ve got a hacker trying to steal the code almost certainly to sell to some foreign government. That’s why I asked NSA to send me the best.”

They reached the entrance to the back stairs. Dylan pressed his thumb against the pad and keyed in the current pass code. He held the heavy security door open for her.

As she walked past him, he caught her arm. His hot touch branded her through the sleeve of her sweater. She looked up and met his haunted gaze.

“Help me debug the computer program. Build a firewall no hacker can get past. Give me the time I need to finish. If anything happens to the program or the prototype, my son will lose his last chance.” His voice cracked. “Do you understand what that means?”

She nodded, thinking of the wire braces propped beside Ben’s little bed.

“I doubt you do. In another few weeks, Ben won’t even be able to use the braces.” Dylan’s voice cracked.

Shock and denial pierced her chest. “What do you mean? He seems to handle the braces just fine.”

“Once the nerve damage progresses by another ten percent, he won’t be able to move his legs at all. The braces will be useless, and my son will be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life.”

Her heart squeezed painfully. “But I thought the interface—”

His anguished gaze answered her. Must have viable muscle and nerve. Not even Stryker’s genius could stop the damage from becoming permanent.

She had a fleeting vision of that vital, healthy little boy stuck in a wheelchair, the cold metal sucking the life out of him. Trapped as surely as if he were buried alive.

Nausea swirled through her and a trickle of sweat slid down the back of her neck.

Dylan gripped her arm. “Can you do it?” His eyes glittered in the dim night. “Can you hold the hacker at bay until I finish the prototype? It’s Ben’s only chance to be normal.”

Chapter Three

The next morning at breakfast, Charlene grudgingly asked Natasha if she’d like to walk outside with her and Ben. “He’s had a rough morning already, so we’re skipping the morning therapy session.”

Charlene’s demeanor hardly fit her friendly words. Natasha figured Mintz had ordered her to show Natasha Ben’s playground. But the computer equipment wouldn’t arrive until around noon, and she wasn’t about to give up the chance to see what passed for outside, or to find out more about Charlene. “I’d love to.”

Natasha changed into a sleeveless white top and jeans, and wove her hair into a French braid. She started to leave her weapon in her room, but changed her mind. She was on duty. She buckled on the fanny pack and stored the Glock inside it.

When she met Ben and Charlene in the atrium, Ben was whiny.

“You said he’d had a rough morning?”

Charlene leaned close to Natasha. “Dr. Stryker examined him. That’s always painful for Ben.”

“Painful?” Natasha frowned.

Charlene nodded as she took Ben’s hand. “Come on, cowboy, let’s go outside.”

Outside consisted of a play area off the kitchen, about the size of a tennis court, and covered by the camouflage mesh canopy Mintz had told her about. The area was bordered on the back and west by the house, and on the other two sides by a thick evergreen hedge.

“Ben can’t go beyond the hedge. Dr. Stryker doesn’t take even the smallest chance that someone might get a glimpse of him.” Charlene leaned closer. “You know the world thinks Ben died in the accident.”

Natasha nodded as she surveyed the play area. Stone paths led through a maze of flowers and shrubs. A little swing set and toys occupied one side of the yard. In the center sat a goldfish pond with a clear acrylic barrier around it, so Ben could see the fish but couldn’t fall in.

She looked skyward, then out past the thick hedge. The canopy shaded the manicured play area, while the field beyond the hedge was overgrown and wild, just the kind of place a child would love to run and explore. The kind of place that would put color in Ben’s cheeks and make him smile.

“I guess this area gives him some sunlight,” she conceded, spreading her hand. The canopy broke the sunlight into dots of light and shadow across her palm.

“He loves it out here, don’t you, cowboy?”

But Ben stood beside Charlene, looking dejected.

Charlene held out a soft fuzzy toy helicopter. “Go play.”

“I wanna see a real copter,” Ben whined.

“There’s no real copter today.” Charlene sounded bored and irritated. “Play with your toy.”

Catching Natasha’s eye, she shrugged. “One of the guards showed him a helicopter flying over the field out there one day. Now he’s obsessed.”

“I want my daddy. Where’s Daddy?”

Charlene sighed and put her hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Why don’t you find a butterfly?” She pointed. “Is that one?”

“Butterfly?” Ben’s attention was caught. “Butterfly!” he shouted, moving toward a bed of flowers.

“I really wish Dr. Stryker would examine him in the evening instead of the morning. He’s pouty all day afterward.”

Natasha dragged her gaze away from Ben’s search for the butterfly. “What does an examination entail?”

Charlene outlined the arduous testing, stretching and measuring. Just as she started describing needle stimulation of nerves, a security guard appeared from the house. It was Hector Alvarez. Mintz had introduced them the first night.

With a stealthy glance at Natasha, he spoke to Charlene. “I need to check your pass code device,” he said. “Some of them are malfunctioning.”