and in the wards on either side. The woman carrying the feverish baby led Jon and Randi past crowded treatment rooms, all with child patients. This was a pediatric hospital, and from what Smith could assess, it had once been up-to-date and thoroughly outfitted. But now it was dilapidated, with its equipment in various stages of disrepair.
Perhaps this was where he was to meet the famous pediatrician. Because they were in such different fields of medicine, he had no personal knowledge of him. He turned back to Randi. "Where's Dr. Mahuk? Ghassan was supposed to take me to him. He's a pediatric specialist."
"I know," Randi told him quietly. "That's why I was in the tire shop--- to make sure Ghassan made safe contact with an undercover agent--- obviously, with you. Dr. Mahuk is a vital member of the Iraqi underground. We'd expected you to have your meeting there in Ghassan's store. We thought it'd be safer."
The middle-aged woman with the baby stepped into an office with a desk and examining table. Gently she laid the baby on the table. As the infant whimpered, she picked up a stethoscope that was curled on the desk. Jon followed the woman, while Randi paused to look carefully up and down the dingy corridor. Then she stepped inside the office and closed the door. There was a second door, and she moved swiftly across worn linoleum to it. Warily she opened it onto a ward. Children's voices and cries rose and fell. Her face sad, she shut this door, too.
She took out her Uzi. Resting it in her arms, she leaned back against the door.
As Jon stared, her expression hardened and grew watchful, the utter professional. She was guarding not only the Iraqi woman and baby but him, too. It was a side of Randi he had never seen. As long as he had known her, she had been fiercely independent, with a compelling sense of self-confidence. When he had first met her seven years ago, he had found her beautiful and intriguing. He had tried to talk to her about her fiance's death, about his sense of guilt, but it had been no use.
Later, when Smith had gone to her condo in Washington to try to apologize again about Mike's death, he had discovered Sophia. He had never been able to penetrate Randi's rage and grief, but his love for Sophia had made it less necessary. Now he would have to tell Randi about Sophia's murder, and he did not look forward to it.
Inwardly he sighed. He wanted Sophia back. Every time he looked at Randi, he wanted her back even more.
The Iraqi woman smiled up at Jon as he helped her unwrap the blanket around the baby. "You will please forgive my deception," she said in perfect English. "Once we were attacked, I was concerned you might be captured. It was better you not know that I am the one you seek. I am Dr. Radah Mahuk. Thank you for your help in saving this little one." She beamed down at the child, then bent over to examine it.
Chapter Thirty-Two
9:02 P.M.
Baghdad
Dr. Radah Mahuk sighed. "There is so little we can do for the children. Or, for that matter, for any of the sick and injured in Iraq."
On the examining table, which had been repaired with nails and tape, the pediatrician listened to the chest of the baby--- a little girl. She checked the baby's eyes, ears, and throat and took her temperature. Jon guessed she was about six months old, although she looked no more than four. He studied her thinness and the translucency of her fevered skin. Earlier he had noted the eyes were an ivory color and veinless--- indicating a vitamin deficiency. This baby was not getting enough nourishment.
At last Dr. Mahuk nodded to herself, opened the door, and called for a nurse. As she handed the infant over, she stroked the little girl's cheek and gave instructions in Arabic: "Bathe her. She needs to be cleaned. But use cool water to help bring down the fever. I will be out shortly." Her lined face was worried. Weariness had collected in blue circles under her large dark eyes.
Randi, who had understood the doctor's orders, asked in English, "What's wrong with her?"
"Diarrhea, among other problems," the pediatrician answered.
Jon nodded. "Common, considering the living conditions. When sewage seeps into drinking eater, you get diarrhea and a lot worse."
"You are right, of course. Please sit down. Diarrhea is common, particularly in the older