Beautiful(7)

Like the rest of the wounded, she was taken to a nearby military hospital, which was better equipped to treat injuries of this nature. These were wartime injuries, from massive explosions, normally never experienced by civilians. Véronique was one of the last to arrive at the hospital, and was rushed into surgery immediately. There were people on gurneys crowding the halls, waiting for rooms and operating rooms to open up, as nurses and doctors did triage up and down the halls. Less severe injuries were being treated by paramedics, but there were very few minor injuries. Most were very extreme, with some of the victims burned on their entire bodies, and others who had suffered severed limbs. One woman had lost both arms and both legs. Children were being treated as a priority.

Belgian officials had sprung into action. Three suicide bombers died in the explosions, but they had taken thirty-two souls with them, and injured over three hundred others. It was a massive terrorist attack on Brussels. The police had been following leads on other terrorists concealed in the city, but had not succeeded in rounding them up and stopping them in time.

Véronique spent seven hours in surgery that night, to remove the vast quantities of metal and shrapnel that had entered her body. It would require many operations, but they attempted to remove the most acute pieces, which were the most dangerous and were threatening her arteries. She was categorized at the highest degree of critical, and never regained consciousness again after giving her name. The surgeons worked diligently to save her, and to treat the deep lacerations on her face.



* * *



—

Bernard Aubert was sitting in the office he had shared with Marie-Helene Vincent for thirty years. He had first heard the news of the attack in Brussels on his way to work that morning. He knew that Marie-Helene had been in Brussels for two weeks, but assumed she would be taking the high-speed train back to Paris. She had told him she was taking the rest of the week off, but hadn’t told him she was going to Miami. Unlike Véronique, she hadn’t been carrying a purse, but had a belt with a money purse around her waist, with her passport in it, and since he was listed as the person to notify in case of emergency on her official papers, the Brussels police called him that afternoon.

Bernard was sixty-five years old, and had been divorced for years. He was planning to retire at the end of the year, and had told Marie-Helene his intentions a few months before. They had been practicing law in their shared practice for thirty years. He considered her a close friend, and had a deep affection and respect for her, and he was in shock when they told him that she had died at Zaventem Airport. They questioned him about another victim with the same surname. They said that they had a Véronique Vincent at the hospital, listed as severely critical. She was still in surgery at the time.

“Oh my God, that’s her daughter. I didn’t know she was with her.” They told him that he would be kept closely informed, but if she survived, the doctors’ intention was to put her in a medically induced coma after the surgery, and she was expected to have more surgeries in the next few days. He was shaking when he hung up, and burst into tears. He couldn’t believe what had happened, that Marie-Helene had been killed and Véronique was fighting for her life. Since she wasn’t conscious, he decided to wait before he went to Brussels. He could offer no comfort or help in the circumstances.

Their secretaries and paralegal, and a junior associate who was working on some of their cases, all moved around the office as quietly as they could, devastated by the news. Bernard looked gray as he sat at his desk, alternately crying and staring into space. It was a cruel end for his colleague and dear friend, and even more tragic if her daughter died too, at twenty-two.

The reports on television of the bombings were harrowing, with terrifying photographs of the departures terminal after the two bombs exploded, and the metro station. A third bomb had been found at the airport, which hadn’t detonated. A terrorist group had claimed responsibility for the attack, which was believed to be tied to the November attacks in Paris four months before.



* * *



—

Bernard waited until the next day to go to Brussels, and was only permitted to see Véronique for a few minutes, in the intensive care unit. She was deep in a controlled coma after the surgery. He spoke to the doctor in charge of her care, and was told that her survival was still gravely in question. Her body was still full of shrapnel, some in critical locations. They had removed as much as they could for now, but by no means all. And if she did survive, she would do so with some shrapnel in her body forever. Removing some pieces of it was just too dangerous. She was at risk for losing an eye as well. Bernard saw that her face was heavily bandaged, and the doctor told him that she would need reconstructive surgery for the damage to her face, and she had suffered internal damage to her vital organs as well. He cried again while listening to the doctor, and knew how heartbroken Marie-Helene would have been to know the condition her daughter was in. The doctor estimated that she had a fifteen to twenty percent chance of survival, but was not optimistic. The only thing in her favor was that she had youth on her side, which would help her recover if she survived her injuries. The people who had built the bombs had maximized the damage they would cause to the human body, and had done so very effectively. It was small consolation that the bombers were dead as well.

Véronique was scheduled for another surgery in two days, to continue to remove the shrapnel that was threatening her life. The risk of infection and septicemia from the filth with which the bomb was made was great. The apartment where they had been built had been discovered by then, and the bombs identified as triacetone triperoxide bombs, similar to those in the Paris attacks. The components were all items easily obtained in pharmacies and hardware stores.