The field hospital at the National Security Army Intelligence Department base was thick with the acrid scent of disinfectant and the pained groans of the wounded. In one of the wards, the patient who had been suffering from a persistent high fever lay on his cot, his face flushed, his lips cracked and dry. He drifted in and out of consciousness, muttering weakly. Beside him, a nurse looked on with profound anxiety, busily wiping his forehead with a damp cloth in a futile attempt to break the scorching fever.
Just as the staff felt at their wit's end, a member of the Military Statistics Action Department hurried in. With a grave expression, he opened his medical kit and carefully extracted a precious vial of anti-inflammatory medicine. Handing it to the nurse, he said urgently, "Quick, inject this into the patient. We had a hard time getting our hands on this, but it might just save his life!"
The nurse took the vial, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. She quickly prepared the syringe and slowly administered the medication. The doctors and other staff gathered around, holding their breath, eyes fixed intently on the patient. The air in the room seemed to hang still.
Chapter 198