Warshond switched on the light.
The overhead fluorescent fixtures cast a harsh, clinical glow across the spherical space under the pier.
He cast away his mask and tore off his coat. A groan of pain parted his lips, cold sweat dripping from tousled hair.
"Do you need help?" asked the girl, fidgeting by the entrance vault with her head low, her eyes flicking between Warshond and his blood stains on her.
"I did ask you to help me, didn't I?"
"Yeah, but I thought you meant to use me like a crotch –" her voice trailed off upon seeing his smile.
Pulling out a drawer of surgical supplies, Warshond glanced at her over his shoulder. "Ever cut a man before?"
Her big green eyes widened, gaping like emeralds.
"Of course not." He chuckled to himself. "But you'll have to make your first today."
"What? I can't! I mean I do want to study medicine. That doesn't mean I can! Not now! And wait, how do you know what I want –"
"Come here," he cut her baffling short, his hand beckoning as he plopped into a chair with his back to a wall mirror.
She gulped and edged toward him.
He grabbed her arm – it felt even thinner than it looked – and held her close. "Let's start easy," he crooned. "Help me get out of this damn shirt."
Her lips trembled, her breath short and shaky. She drew a long breath and steadied her eyes at his wound. "I suppose I'm not getting my ride if I let you die here, is that it?"
Warshond considered her for a moment. Under the harsh fluorescent light, her wheat-colored skin paled with a flush across her round cheeks. Her eyes batted, dodging his gaze. "You're clever," he continued. "You can figure a way out somehow, I'm sure. Up to you." He let go of her arm. Then, tilting to the secured landline nailed to a wall, he tugged at the receiver and dialed.
"Yes, boss?" Erdem's voice came over the phone.
"Call Taylan Dinc now, and arrange the health check for the sailors tomorrow morning," he grunted, toiling for breath. "I need you to drive to my place first and pretend you're picking me up so the mileage is recorded. When you get to the Port, stop by the pier. I'll meet you there. Text me the time once it's confirmed with Dinc, and again ten minutes before your arrival."
"Ok," the boy replied, his voice tentative.
"Questions?"
"The pier?"
"Yes."
"You ok, boss?"
"Do as I said, and I'll be."
"Copy."
Dial tone cut in. Warshond hung up. "See?" He glimpsed the girl. "Just booked you a ride." He reached to unbutton his shirt.
She stayed his hand. "Well, I, I hope you have no sentiment attached to this shirt." Gulping her words, she snatched at the drop of a hat the scalpel from the drawer and ripped his shirt from the back. "The blood is sticky," she added, matter-of-factly, despite the quavers in her voice. "It's easier this way, that I know,"
A little taken aback, he chuckled. "Good job." His eyes bored into her, imbibing the beauty of her features in stark contrast to the nerve in her eyes. "I'll tell you where to cut. But first, I need you to sterilize the scalpels."
She evaded his loaded gaze. Her quivering hand coiled around the scalpel. "Sorry, I –"
"What for?" He leaned to the drawer as he took the brachial plexus block, his face close to hers. A glimpse caught two red swellings on the lower back back of her neck, possibly bug bites, or mosquitos. "You're brave, and I appreciate it," he added while giving himself a shot of the anesthesia.
Shivering as she turned her back to him, the girl fumbled for isopropyl.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Huh?"
"Your name."
"Ely…" She clammed up, her voice hitched in her throat. "Evan."
Warshond narrowed his eyes. Evan Ginsberg? A chuckle came hissing through his parted lips. No wonder you look familiar.
"I think I'm ready," she said, taut with jitters as she turned her face around with a leery glance up at him. "My hands are sanitized too, and gloved, and, and…"
He groped her chin and made their eyes meet. "You can do it," he said, his voice weak but measured. "You have the guts, and you're agile. I saw you at the Port. Seemed to me you know how to make the most of your situation. So, you are no fool, either. You can do it, and I trust you."