Upon reaching the counter, Kim scanned the group for a recognizable face. No one looked familiar and none seemed to recognize him. In fact, the only person to notice his presence was the clerk, a young college-aged boy who was most likely a student at the university.

"I'm Doctor Reggis," Kim said. "What's happening?" He motioned to all the people.

"They're just taking a breather," the clerk said. "The shooting victim and the last car-accident patients just went up to surgery.

"Who's the acting head of the emergency department for the evening shift?" Kim asked.

"That would be Dr. David Washington." the clerk said.

"Is he here at the moment?" Kim asked.

The clerk glanced around the area to be sure. "No," he said. "I believe he's back with an orthopedic case.

"How about a head nurse or nurse supervisor?" Kim asked.

"That would be Nora Labat" the clerk said. "She's with a psych patient."

"I see," Kim said. "Thanks."

Kim proceeded down the counter until he was at the very center. Raising his hand, he called out: "Excuse me, everybody! Hello!"

No one acknowledged Kim's voice or gesture.

For another moment he glanced around, trying to make eye contact with anyone. It was impossible. Instead he reached across the counter and lifted a metallic in-and-out basket from the desk top. Holding it above his head for a moment, he thought someone might notice. They didn't.

Kim brought the metal basket down to crash onto the Formica counter. He smashed it down twice again, each time with more force until the basket became distorted to the shape of a three-dimensional parallelogram.

That got everyone's attention. Conversations stopped in mid-sentence. Residents, nurses, and orderlies all stared at Kim. A security man who'd been standing over near the bank of elevators came running over, his hand holding the clutch of keys attached to his belt.

Having worked himself up to a fury, Kim's voice was tremulous. "I know you all are busy, but you certainly don't look busy at the moment. I've been waiting here for two and a half hours with my daughter. As a professional man myself, my time could be spent in much more valuable ways."

"Excuse me, sir," the security man said. He took hold of Kim's arm.

Kim yanked his arm free and spun around on the man. "Don't you touch me," Kim snarled. The security man wisely stepped back while he grappled for his two-way radio. Kim was not only a half a foot taller but also significantly more muscled.

"No need to contact anyone," Kim said. He pulled out his hospital ID and held it up to the security man's face. "I'm on the staff here, even though no one here in the emergency department seems willing to concede it."

The security man's eyes narrowed as he read Kim's ID card. "Sorry, Doctor," he said.

"That's quite all right," Kim said with a controlled voice. He turned back to the desk. Monica Hoskins had stepped forward.

"I'd like to talk with Dr. David Washington." Kim said.

"I'm sorry you've had to wait," Monica said. "We're doing the best we can."

"Nonetheless I'd like to speak to the acting head of the department," Kim said.

"Dr. Washington is tied up with a pneumothorax," Molly explained.

"I want to see him now," Kim said evenly. "I'm sure there must be at least one resident competent to handle a pneumothorax."

"Just a moment," Monica said. She stepped back, and out of earshot from Kim, conferred with Molly and several of the other staff. In less than a minute, she returned to Kim. In the background one of the nurses she'd been talking with picked up a phone.

"We'll have someone here in authority to talk with you momentarily," Monica said.

"It's about time," Kim remarked.

Kim's mini-tantrum had unnerved the staff and most of them vacated the nurses' desk for the interior of the ER. Monica took the in-and-out basket Kim had bent and tried to bend it back. She was unsuccessful.

Kim's pulse was racing. A sudden commotion behind him made him turn around. A teenage girl was being escorted by a vanguard of EMT's. She was sobbing. Both wrists were bound with bloody dishtowels: a clear suicide attempt, no doubt in this young woman's case a desperate cry for help.

Kim looked expectantly into the ER depths after the teenager was taken in. He expected to see the doctor-in-charge appear at any moment. Instead he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Turning around, he was surprised to see Tracy.

"Where's Becky?" Kim asked.

"In the restroom" Tracy answered. "It's a routine visit this time, but I have to get right back. I just came in here to beg you not to have one of your narcissistic rages. When you stood up in the waiting room to come in here, I didn't think I cared whether you got into a furor or not, but I do. I'm convinced it won't improve an already bad situation. In fact it might cause Becky to have to wait even longer."

"Spare me your psychobabble," Kim spat. "All I'm planning on is a sane but pointed conversation with the man who runs this place. I mean, this is unacceptable. Plain and simple."

"Just try to control yourself," Tracy said icily. "When you're done, you'll know where to find us." Tracy turned around and walked back toward the waiting room.

Kim drummed his fingers impatiently on the counter. After a while he looked at his watch. Another five minutes had passed. Once again he leaned out into the corridor to peer back into the ER depths. He saw plenty of staff but no one came striding in his direction. Kim's eyes met the clerk's who immediately averted his gaze. The rest of the ER staff avoided looking at Kim, instead busying themselves with paperwork.

A muffled bell sounded to herald the arrival of an elevator. Kim looked over to see a hefty man dressed in a conservative gray business suit disembark. To Kim's surprise, he came directly up to him.

"Dr. Reggis?" the man inquired. His voice was robust and commanding.

"I'm Dr. Reggis," Kim agreed.

"I'm Barclay Bradford," the man said stiffly. "I'm a vice president of the hospital and the acting chief administrator for the evening shift."

"How convenient," Kim said. "What I'd advise you to do is to go back into the ER, locate the asshole acting head of the department, and drag him out here. He and I have something to talk about. You see, I've been waiting for two and a half hours to have my daughter seen.

"Dr. Reggis," Barclay began as if Kim had not even spoken, "as a member of our professional staff, particularly a surgeon, you of all people know that triage is necessary in a busy ER. Life-threatening problems have to take precedence over simple juvenile diarrhea."

"Of course I understand triage," Kim shot back. "I've worked in ER's all through my training. But let me tell you something. When I walked in here ten minutes ago, there had to be a dozen ER staff hanging out behind this counter drinking coffee and chitchatting."

"Appearances never tell the whole story," Barclay commented condescendingly. He fluttered his eyelids. "They were probably conferring with each other over particularly difficult cases. But regardless, your childish behavior of pounding a letter box on a countertop cannot be tolerated. It's entirely inappropriate for you to demand special treatment."

"Special treatment!" Kim sputtered. "Childish behavior!" His face reddened and his eyes bulged. The administrator in front of him suddenly embodied his frustrations about the present emergency-room experience, the hospital merger, AmeriCare, and modern medicine in general. With a sudden fit of fury and losing all semblance of control, Kim struck the administrator with a lightning blow to the chin.

Kim shook his hand and clasped it with his other in response to the sudden pain in his knuckle. At the same time, Barclay rocked back on his heels, teetered, then fell heavily to the floor. Kim was stunned by his violent reaction. Taking a step forward, he looked down at Barclay and felt an impulse to help the man up.