Love In The Time Of Outbreak

"Are you lost, baby girl?"

Deanver Magallon turned off the engine of his car and turned to a beautiful lady. But when he approached the said woman, he suddenly became nervous. Just by the woman's face, it looks like she is just a teenager and it seems that she is flirting with him back.

"Hey kiddo, actually I'm right where I'm supposed to be."

He had expected that the woman would be annoyed with him for calling her a kiddo, and sure enough, he got the reaction he'd expected. The girl's green eyes flashed with indignation, and her pale cheeks turned red.

The girl gave him an evil look, then folded her arms. "Seriously, dude, what are you doing here?"

Dean got out of his Jeep. "I have an appointment with Dr. Ricafort."

Her eyes widened. "Are you a patient?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "No. Are you?"

"No." She huffed out an annoyed breath. "Fine. Come on, I'll take you to Thalia."

"Wow! You're so kind, Miss..." He waited for the girl to say her name.

"Nadine," she said grudgingly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Nadine. By the way, I'm Dean."

Grabbing his canvas messenger bag from the backseat, he trailed after the teenager, who, despite the heat, was surprisingly energetic as she led him toward the covered porch of the clinic.

It was really hot that day, especially since the sun was shining brightly as Dean traveled there. In fact, his body was full of sweat, and his chest seemed to be heaving because his top was wet with sweat. And he couldn't stand the heat anymore so he just took off his top. Every woman he passed by almost turned his back on him.

Also, the people there are not used to having a stranger's car get stuck there. Valera was one of the poorer towns in San Jose, just a small settlement at the base of the mountain. The only good thing is that the scenery there is refreshing to the eyes, because all you can see around is green. With a population of barely a thousand, the town of Valera was nothing more than dilapidated brick houses scattered, isolated farms, a surprisingly busy marketplace and this MD International clinic located on the outskirts of town.

"Thalia's in the back," Nadine said as they stepped towards the entrance of a building.

The girl stuck to a brisk pace, but Dean was still cautious around her as they walked down to the medical facility. What he knows is that the doctors at the said clinic are all foreigners, and they also move around in different places around the world.

The hallway they were walking was dark but clean. The waiting room he and Nadine passed was small, but offered rows of plastic chairs and toys for the children waiting with their parents. He also saw doors there, probably where the doctors would examine their patients. A room with swinging doors opened and Dean caught a glimpse of hospital beds inside.

"You get a lot of overnight patients?" he asked the teenager.

She turned to him. "Sometimes. There's always a few patients in the AIDS wing, but the general wing isn't usually so full."

"But it is at the moment because of the cholera cases that have cropped up, right?"

Nadine turned to him again, but this time there seemed to be doubt in her eyes. "How do you know about those cases?"

"I'm a journalist," he immediately responded. "It's my business to know everything."

The teenager was mesmerized. "You're a journalist? No way."

Despite the fact that he is lying, he still shouldn't reveal it. "Yes, I am."

"Who do you write for?" She challenged him.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Everyone. I'm a freelancer, so I'm constantly traveling the world, searching for stories."

It took him three days to travel there. But he decided to keep that to himself. He can't say, "Hey, guess what? I used to be a soldier, but now my own government hunts me down." For sure, the girl will not believe him.

Unfortunately, it was the cold, hard truth. For the past eleven months, he'd been hiding out with the two remaining members of his former unit. The ten-man team used to be reduced to three. Because seven of his colleagues were killed in their last mission in San Jose. But he knew that the death of his colleagues was no accident. After the unit had been recalled back to the camp, those men had been systematically killed off, presumably because they'd seen so much during that last op.

He almost died in their last mission, fortunately he was immediately saved by his remaining colleague Pierre Paredes and his commanding officer Guiller Tatum.

Up until three months ago, he would've insisted there was nothing off about that mission to rescue Roger Edison, the American doctor who'd been held captive by rebel fighters. But as it turned out - the doctor hadn't been a hostage at all. And the villagers who died there were not killed by the rebels, but because of the virus that the said doctor planted in them.

Unfortunately, that was all Dean knew. The key to finding out who authorized the killing of his unit was in discovering who authorized the manufacturing of a virus he still knew nothing about.

He just hope it changes today. For months on end, he and the others kept their eyes and ears focused on unusual medical developments in San Jose.

He didn't know if these cholera cases in Valera were related to Roger Edison's virus, but he was damn well going to find out. Pierre and Tatum knew that leaving their safe house in El Salvador to investigate was worth the risk, and even though he really didn't want to be exposed to the public like this, he was determined to use every second of his time.

"So what are you doing here, kiddo?" he asked in a conversational tone. "You're clearly too young to be a volunteer."

"My dad works here." Nadine said. "He's a surgeon."

"Impressive." Dean smirked. "So he just let you come along during his travels? He doesn't think school is important?"

She glared at him. "I'm homeschooled. But FYI, there are more important things than school. Like saving lives."

He wouldn't argue with that. Because it's true that human life is more important than anything else. Especially staying alive, which was his one and only goal at the moment.

Nadine took him to the room at the far end of the hallway and it opened on its own when they were about to enter it.

The slender brunette who'd slid through the threshold stumbled in surprise, then let out a laugh as her gaze met Dean's. "Mr. Magallon, I presume? I was just coming out to meet you."

"No need. Nadine was so kind enough to escort me to you," he replied and gave the doctor a charming smile.

"Nadine is so kind? I'd like to see that."

Instead of objecting, the girl just shrugged her shoulders. "You know me too well, Doc." Then she lifted her nose up and frowned at Dean. "Later, dude."

After Nadine left, Dean immediately turned to the doctor. "Nice kid."

She grinned. "She can be a handful, but her bedside manner is surprisingly remarkable. She's also kind with the patients." The doctor extended her hand to him. "I'm Thalia Ricafort. I'm a Filipino-American doctor."

"Dean Magallon. Also Filipino." He said and shook hands with the doctor. He was just surprised because the doctor's grip on his hand was tight, especially that her hands were so small and dainty.

In fact, everything about this woman was dainty. Delicate, even. Her height was average for a woman, but she was just too skinny for him. He doesn't care if a woman is chubby. Looks like the doctor needs to eat a little more. But in fairness, the curve of her body is just right. Her butt is also round.

Because he'd always been an ass man, the tantalizing sight stirred his groin, serving as a reminder of his eleven-month-long stint of celibacy. Getting laid wasn't something he'd given much thought since going into hiding. Granted, it was easy not to think about sex when your only company was two bad-tempered soldiers and a case of beer.

"How was your flight here?"

"Good thing, nothing happened to me."

"Sit down," she said, and motioned him to a small plastic chair. While Thalia went around her desk to sit on the swivel chair. Dean, on the other hand, fit himself into the very small chair and forced himself to be comfortable.

His shifting and sliding earned him another grin from Thalia Ricafort, and now that he focused on her face rather than her too-skinny figure, he realized just how pretty she was. Not classically beautiful by society's standards, but her face is very light and gentle.

"Okay, what do you want to know?" She asked directly at him.

"It looks like you want to send me right away." He couldn't help but tease.

"Actually, no. I'd rather just sit here at my desk all week. I'm really tired, I'm always hungry, and I can't remember the last time I talked to someone who was healthy and not dying in front of me." She let out a breath. "But what can I do? I knew what I was getting into when I signed the contract to be deployed here."

Her blunt tone and frank words intrigued him. When he'd set up this bogus interview, he'd expected to hear a bunch of praise for the MD International organization and heartfelt speeches about saving the world and making a difference.

"Sounds like running this clinic is a tough task," he remarked.

"Tough is an understatement." She stopped. "Aren't you going to take notes?"

Ah, yes. He should take notes. That is the job of a journalist.

He bent down and got a notebook, ballpen and mini recorder from his messenger bag. When he had the recorder in hand, he met Thalia's gaze and said, "Do you mind if I record this?"

"Not at all."

As he set up the recorder and opened his notebook to a new page, Thalia shot him another one of those no-nonsense looks. "I read some of your online articles just this morning. You are a good writer."

Thanks to Ina. His commander's fiancee.

Next time he should treat Tatum's fiancee better. He didn't like her when he first met her. Then again, when a mysterious chick showed up asking your commanding officer to risk his neck and kill a man for her, will you immediately give your trust?

But in the end, Ina proved that she can be trusted, and thanks to this, if it wasn't for Ina, Victor Ortez's evil doing would only continue to spread.

Also thanks to Ina, because of this he became a fake journalist. It had only taken Tatum's hacker fiancee a day to establish Dean Magallon as a bonafide freelancer, mostly by hacking into newspaper sites and changing the by-lines. The story wouldn't hold up under deep scrutiny, but they figured Thalia Ricafort and her colleagues wouldn't have time to do a thorough background check on the man who was coming to write a glowing piece about their organization.

"Thanks," he said, hoping Thalia wouldn't ask him specific questions about being a journalist. "Though I'm surprised to hear you have internet access here."

"We do it in the clinic, but it's expensive, so we only use it for work purposes. Communication-wise, we've got a radio we use to connect with other clinics on the island, and a satellite phone for emergencies."

"What about cell phones? I noticed that the signal of my cell phone here is gone."

"There's a cell tower somewhere around here, but like yours, the signal is always gone. Last night, we had a signal for an hour, and our midwife was very happy because she was able to call her grandchildren." She said with a smile. "I swear, it's like we're partying here every time we get a bar signal."

He also laughed at her behavior, and at that moment, he forgot about the interview he was going to do here. It seems that he enjoyed his simple conversation with Thalia Ricafort. It's been a long time since he's been talking to anyone other than Tatum and Pierre.

"Anyway, off-topic again," she said with a chuckle of her own. "You may begin your interview, Mr. Magallon."

"Just Dean."

"Okay, Dean."

"All right, why don't you start by telling me a bit about the set up you folks have going here."

With a nod, she leaned back in her swivel chair and gave him a quick rundown of the MD International organization. She described their goals, the way the organization was structured, the equipment they had on hand. Every now and then, Dean interrupted with a question to give credibility to the whole interview thing, but in his head, he was trying to figure out the best way to bring up the topic about the dying patients in the next room.

"So you do have an MRI," he cut in, pretending to be fascinated.

She nodded, her dainty fingers toying with the end of her long brown braid, which fell over one shoulder. "We do, but we don't have an on-site expert to handle the results. The scans are sent to the central lab in town, and the diagnoses and results are emailed back to us."

He asked a few more questions that he didn't really care about the answers to, except that he was amused to listen to the doctor's speech. Because this is not the type that he usually meets with doctors. She can actually speak Filipino sometimes, and her attitude was really Pinoy.

Also, her voice is beautiful to listen to - it's sweet and mellow to listen to. He felt suddenly warm when he looked at the doctor's lips. Those pouty lips that pursed each time she paused to organize her next thought.

Damn, it's just that he suddenly turns on by the doctor. He has to resist the strange attraction he feels for her. Not now.

"So you're saying that," he said with another laugh, "you're overcrowded or understaffed, or are you short on tools here?"

"Pretty much," she confirmed.

He studied the random questions he had written in his notebook, and pretended he had more questions ready. "What about the rebels?" he asked her. "Are you getting any resistance from the UFF soldiers in the area?"

"Actually, no."

Dean was surprised by her statement. It was no secret that the United Freedom Fighters resented the alliance between San Jose and America. For the past ten years, the UFF has only caused trouble in the San Jose area. What started out as an admirable movement to fight a genuinely oppressive government had transformed into violence, unrest and borderline terrorism.

"I've been here for eight months and so far, the rebels haven't messed with us here. They might not appreciate American interference in their political affairs, but I believe that most of the rebels really care about the people of the country. Because they didn't mess with medical workers like us who also help people, like the ones they are fighting for."

"That's a good point." Readjusting in his uncomfortable chair, he carelessly crossed his ankles together. "Let's change the topic first. Tell me about the inpatient care you offer. Nadine said that you have AIDS patients in-house at your clinic..." He said innocently. "And something about cholera?"

Thalia nodded. "We do treat a handful of AIDS and HIV patients, but as you probably discovered in your research, this area isn't heavily afflicted by either one. We tend to see more outbreaks of cholera and malaria."

"So at the moment you're dealing with a cholera outbreak?" he asked casually.

She smiled and shook her head. "No. We're keeping about a dozen of patients for observation, but only until their blood test results come back. It's a precaution to test for cholera if the patients exhibit any of the symptoms, but I'm pretty sure none of the patients here have the parasite."

"But a few patients did recently have it, right?"

"Yes, but those were just isolated incidents and not indicative of a major outbreak."

"Can you tell me more about the cases? You don't have to reveal their names or their private details."

"They come from the same family, that's why I don't believe that we have a cholera problem here. The family in question neglected to take the preventive measures we encourage the locals to employ. Unfortunately, they themselves don't want to protect themselves. They didn't even come here immediately to the clinic for treatment. By the time they did, it was too late."

The pain in her eyes told Dean that she was the kind of doctor who actually cares about her patients. Then again, he wasn't surprised by that. Because if it's really just about money, she can build a clinic in the Philippines or maybe in the U.S. so that she has her own income. But instead, she works in a place far from civilization, like here in the remote area of ​​South America and Africa."

He continued to be curious about the doctor, and maybe he couldn't bear to ask the doctor why she chose to work here in a foreign place. But he can't just change the topic, not when they were on the very subject he'd come here to talk about.

"How many were killed?" he asked.

"The mother of the six children and their grandmother who also lives in their house. The father did not get sick. But he was the one who was hurt the most. He lost his loved ones in just one week."

Dean felt a strange pain in his emotions. Because he knows the feeling of how painful it is to lose a loved ones in life.

But this is not the right time for him to think about painful things. He came here to find out if the virus that was nested by Dr. Edison was connected to cholera, but it appears to be a false alarm.

Unless Dr. Thalia Ricafort is an accomplice to the people who want to kill him. She might be the one to continue the secret project of Dr. Edison by killing their patients.

He let the possibility absorb for a moment, then dismissed it. Nah, he seriously doubted that. This doctor's appearance does not seem suspicious.

"I hope we can do something more for these people," she said in a hopeful tone. "But it's very difficult. Our organization only gets funds from private donors, and with the recession, we're not seeing as many donations as we used to. A small fund means we only have a few supplies, and we can only hire a few staff."

"But that's better than nothing," he pointed out. "You've done your best, Doc, which is more than anyone else has done."

"You are also doing differently," she said with a smile. "You're shedding light on the issues, forcing the people back home to open their eyes to the conflicts and inequality, and inferior health care others are struggling with."

An arrow of guilt pricked his chest, and for a moment he wished he was writing an article, just so he could put another one of those beautiful smiles on Thalia's face.

Damn, it's confusing. Because when it comes to women, he doesn't have an exact type, not unless temporarily counted as a type. He also never had a serious or long-term relationship, and Thalia Ricafort had serious and long-term written all over her. She is a doctor, for chrissake, their seriousness is no joke.

And why was he even thinking about this, anyway?

He only came here to do an interview with the doctor, and not to like her.

But his body seems to be saying something else. Instead of doing his job well, he seems to be lusting after a good doctor.

"Dean?"

He dropped the notebook he was holding in shock when the doctor spoke, because he was deep in thought. When he picked it up, his finger was sliced with the paper.

"Damn," he said and immediately sucked the blood from his finger.

Thalia's hazel eyes sparkled with amusement. "Paper cut?"

Something about her teasing voice snapped him into flirt mode again. "Yup. Wanna patch me up?"

She laughed, but he noticed the blush on her cheeks. "Really? A big tough guy like you is worried about a little paper cut?"

"Yeah, deathly worried." He tilted his head. "So what exactly did you say, Doc? Are you going to kiss my wound so it will heal quickly?"

*****