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As they moved south down the river, Caitlin Fitzpatrick realized that the entire event had taken no more than about an hour from the time they left the Collins' apartment. For some reason, she had a premonition. Now with time to think she realized that Sheila was a foreign national and, in all likelihood, someone would have to authorize treatment for her.
The craft settled towards its landing at the Bellevue Hospital Heliport on the East River at 23rd Street. Looking out the window Caitie was gratified to see a group waiting for them with a Gurney. No sooner had the helicopter touched down, but before the rotors had even slowed, the door was ripped open and Sheila was passed out to them, still strapped to the litter. Without a word being spoken, they raced for a door. After a very quick thank-you to the crew, Caitie raced after the retreating medical personnel with Prince at her side.
Entering the vast hospital, Caitie was bewildered for a moment. Then she saw the back of one of the people who had been waiting for them. She ran after the woman and, even though she couldn't catch her, was able to maintain her in sight.
When the group raced with the Gurney into an emergency treatment room, Caitie was content to wait outside. Finding an unoccupied chair, she sat down. Only then did she realize how exhausted she was. It had already been a long and very eventful day, and it wasn't over yet. Prince was sitting on the floor beside her chair in his house-cat pose. Reaching out, Caitie stroked his fur and scratched behind his ear.
Try as he might to maintain his regal pose, Prince moved his head closer to her and began to purr. Passers by were startled by the very loud, but very low-pitched sound.
Turning his head towards her, Prince communicated, "Your parents are truly blessed, My Lady."
"'My Lady'?" Caitie protested. "What, on earth, does that mean? I'm only an unkempt street urchin!"
Slowly shaking his great head the tiger communicated, "You can't be serious! God Himself has proclaimed you His Littlest Angel!" Then raising one eyebrow he communicated, "And remember, Angel, that any virtue — even modesty — taken to excess can become a vice. Urchin? Not!"
Slowly everything that she had heard that day began to penetrate. "You really mean it, darling Prince? I'm really not so bad?"
To Prince's mind, the answer to that statement was so obvious, no answer was called for. Instead he just smirked — or a Royal Bengal tiger's version of one, anyway.
Before Caitie could come up with a rejoinder, the door to the treatment room burst open. A man wearing a green surgical gown grabbed a nearby phone and placed a call. He drummed his fingers on the counter top waiting for the phone to be answered. Clearly, he was in a rush. Whatever it was, the matter was very urgent.
The doctor snapped to attention when the phone was answered. "Mr. Sloan?" After a pause he said, "We have an emergency down here. A young female is here in Emergency. It's a gunshot case. Two bullets, both still in the body, one lodged in the shoulder while the other severed the small intestine and lodged against the spine. We need permission to operate immediately. The woman's life is in immediate danger. She will be dead if we do not begin to operate within the next twenty minutes!"
He listened for a moment and then said, "Is that your last word?"
A moment later he slammed down the phone and muttered, "You no-good bureaucratic son-of-a-bitch!" His shoulders slumped in defeat as he started to head back to the emergency treatment room.
Jumping out of her chair, Caitie moved in front of him causing him to stop suddenly to keep from walking over her. "How is she, Doctor?" she asked softly.
"Did you hear my conversation just now?" he responded. When Caitie nodded, he continued, "Then you know the story. And in case it wasn't obvious to you, he said, 'No way!'."
"Doctor... ?"
"Caulkins," the doctor replied.
"Please begin preparations for the operation immediately. I will have the authorization within fifteen minutes. Is that time enough?"
"I guess so," was the answer. "It will take us about that long to round up the surgical team and get her fully prepped."
"Where is your wonderful Mr. Sloan, anyway?" Caitie asked. "And how do we get to his office?" As she asked her questions she nudged Prince. She knew that Bellevue was an enormous hospital, but she also knew that the tigers had an astonishing sense of place. Regardless of the complexity of the directions, Prince could get there.
When the doctor finished giving directions to Sloan's office, she grinned at the tiger and said, "Prince, I'm sure you can get us there a lot faster than I could. Would ... Could ... Is it possible for you to give me a ride?"
"You would ride on me, Divine One?" Prince asked, utterly astonished at this development.
"Could you carry me? Can you carry all my weight?" she asked with her eyes wide.
Rather than answering, Prince dropped to the floor and lay there flat. Although she was skeptical, Caitie got on top of him astride his shoulders. To Prince, Caitie's weight was nothing at all. Getting to his feet he started to trot down the hall following the directions he had carefully memorized. Because the hospital's doors had been designed with Gurneys in mind, all Prince needed to do was push against them to get intervening doors to open.
For Caitie, it was great fun. The tiger moved in a flowing pace that was incredibly smooth. She took the opportunity to gently stroke his head and his lovely coat. "This is such fun!" she cried. "Could we do it again, sometime?" Then with concern she added, "I'm not wearing you out, am I?"
"Angel, I have never been so proud in my entire life!" Prince exclaimed. "Just imagine! Me! Just a tiger, carrying a real angel on my back."
Then he assured her that he had often served as a marriage bed for his king and queen, Tom and Bobbie Conroy. "And one of my buddies, Rajah, often exercises with his mistress, Joyce Johnson, doing ballet movements while standing on his back. And she weighs at least three times as much as you do," he said, "and that's while he's running at full speed, too! And for that matter," he added, "she often takes a nap while on his back. Princess Joyce claims that our pace is very smooth with just enough sense of motion to lull her into a deep sleep." Turning his great head he inquired, "Do you find it so?"
"It's so incredibly neat, it's beyond belief!" Caitie enthused.
At one point Prince stopped at an elevator and told Caitie to press the "up" button. When the car arrived, rather than telling her the floor, with great care he extended a claw and pressed the proper button himself. He told her that he was being very careful so as not to hurt the button. Finally, they found themselves in the administrative headquarters of the great medical complex after passing through a series of increasingly elaborately decorated offices.
Stopping in front of a door, Prince announced, "We're here, Little Angel." Then he lay down to allow Caitie to gracefully step down to the floor.
"Dear Prince," Caitie whispered, "are you supposed to obey me in all things?" With his eyes wide, the great tiger could only nod his head rapidly. "In that case, it is my command that you call me Caitlin, or Caitie." With a lovely grin she announced, "I really like Caitie best!"
Again, all the animal could do was nod. He was congenitally incapable of failing to carry out any request of hers. Then Caitie opened the door, and entered the office with Prince following proudly behind. They found themselves in the outer office, now empty on a Saturday, and could see a man sitting behind a large desk in the windowed office beyond. Presumably this was the Mr. Sloan whom she had come to see.
Horace Sloan was sitting behind the desk engaged in his favorite occupation: shuffling papers. Horace was the consummate bureaucrat. At age forty, he was a veteran of over fifteen years of paper-pushing wars. Although a senior hospital administrator, he had next to no idea of the operation or mission of the hospital. But no matter: Paper pushing was paper pushing wherever it was found, and so were the bureaucrats.
Horace operated on a single overriding principle that had served to further his career: Unless someone could show him in writing that he must do something, the answer was always "no." Since bureaucracies operated on the basis of number right minus at least ten times the number wrong, the easiest way to avoid making a mistake was to do as little as possible, and, at all costs, avoid taking the initiative. If a decision must be made, call a committee meeting to syndicate any risk.
When he had received Dr. Caulkins' call a few minutes earlier, the decision was optional, so of course the answer was no. While he reviewed the papers in front of him, he considered the advisability of calling a committee meeting on Monday morning. Given the number of people who would need to attend, he figured it would be possible to schedule the meeting — on an emergency basis, of course — in as little as two weeks. The fact that the victim would be dead in an hour unless the operation was performed never even entered into his mental equation.
He was wrapped up in his thoughts, trying to figure out who should be included in the meeting, so he did not notice the little girl until she was standing right in front of his desk.
"Ahem!" Caitie said loudly to attract Sloan's attention. When he looked up, she continued, "You are Mr. Sloan, I presume?"
Utterly baffled by this sudden event, Horace could only nod.
"Great!" Caitie exclaimed with a very warm smile. "Then pick up your phone, call Dr. Caulkins, and authorize the emergency surgery immediately."
By now Sloan had recovered from his surprise and adopted his customary pompous manner. "Little girl," he declared sternly, "this is a restricted area. Leave immediately or I shall be forced to call security and have you removed!"
"That would not be wise," Caitie said softly. Turning to Prince she said, "It wouldn't be too wise, would it, Prince? After all, Aunt Sheila's life is in immediate danger." Only then did Sloan become aware of the presence of the tiger. For some reason the animal had seemed to almost blend into the surroundings.
"My God!" Sloan exclaimed. "What is that... that beast?"
"Prince," Caitie continued, "why don't you go around the desk, introduce yourself, and explain to Mr. Sloan why he wants to give Dr. Caulkins immediate permission for the operation."
Prince seemed almost to flow around the desk, so gracefully did he move. Then sitting in his house cat pose with his tail neatly wrapped around his left paw, he extended his right to shake hands. Sloan, frozen into immobility, did nothing.
With a little shrug, Prince lowered his paw to the floor and then his demeanor changed dramatically. From behaving like an overgrown cat, he was instantly a deadly tiger. His green eyes changed from warmth to glacial ice. Baring his teeth, he emitted a growl that just grew in volume and intensity until it seemed to echo from the walls of the office.
"That's enough, Prince," Caitie said softly. "I think you were very eloquent in your explanation." Turning to Sloan who was now white as a sheet and visibly shaking she said, "You did understand Prince, didn't you, Mr. Sloan? Or perhaps you would like additional reasons?"
With his jaw open, Sloan was incapable of speech. All he could do was to shake his head. Once he began, he just continued, moving his head from side to side faster and faster.
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