Surgery

Werner lay, drugged fast asleep, on the white table. His head lolled a bit to the left, so Nikolai was forced to fetch something to keep it in place, it was a brace of some sort and it did it's job well, but it looked terrible, almost like something out of a medieval torture chamber. They prepped the drill by cleaning it thourougly. The small skalpell that would be used to cut the tumor out was disinfected, along with the other equiptement; tweezers and serveral small metal rods. Wojciechowski put on his lengthy white gloves and handed a pair to Nikolai who put them on with great diffeculty, they were a bit too small for his hands. 

"Have you ever assisted an operation?" Wojciechowski asked Nikolai as he shaved Werner's head. He left 3mm of hair everywhere exept for the place he'd need to enter the young man's skull. Nobody would notice it; the hairstyle was commen among soldiers.

"No." Nikolai addmited. "I was always more of a shooter than a doctor." He joked. Wojciechowski appreciated the younger man trying to break the ice, it made operating more comfortable. 

"Well, after today you'll be a surgeon as well as a soviet spy."

"Am I that obvious?" Nikolai asked with a chuckle. Wojciechowski nodded and smiled.

"You're far too Russian to be German." 

"Ah well, as long as the Nazis don't realize, or don't have evidence." 

"I'm afraid they do." Wojciechowski replied. "I thought the men working me were careful, but they were ratted out. I think you need to watch your back."

"Of course! I try to be carefull. But it's not always easy..."

"Of course not." Wojciechowski began to wipe the area clean where they would drill into Werners skull. "I wish this could have happened in a few weeks, we were so close to the cure, but he'll still have to be operated on. I feel so bad for him."

"What are the chances?" Nikolai asked gravely.

"About fifty to one." Wojciechowski replied. "And I see that you are eying me like you want to kill me, please don't. I know you might find it without a purpose, but there's a reason I'm doing this."

"And it would be?"

"If I don't our whole operation would get exposed, I'm sure of it. And all of us would die, inculding Sokolov, Morozov and Bojarski." 

"And yourself."

"I will die anyways, Nikolai. I have no future past Auschwitz. But I hope that we can complete the cure first." 

"Just do your best, I liked the kid." Nikolai said, gently resting his hand on Werner's shoulder. 

"I promise I will." And Wojciechowski pulled the swab away. He fixed the light over their heads and grabbed the drill. "This will go fast, you need to be ready to help me when I need you." He didn't look at Nikolai when he talked, he was too focused on his task." I am going to drill into the place where the bump is, that gives me more distance from his brain tissue. I need to focus; so tell me, this is very important, if his whole skull starts cracking." Nikolai nodded and watched attentivly. 

The polish doctor turned the drill on, and slowly held it to Werners skull, it only made a small hole, but even out of this blood began to trickle. Nikolai watched for cracks but they never appeared. Werner looked peacefull and oblivious of the pain; how drugs could be so strong as to mask such an invasion baffled Nikolai. 

It didn't take long, Wojciechowski soon broke though the skull to the cave inside. Nikolai got his first glimpse of a brain that was still working and alive. It wasn't pretty, it looked like tons of reddish tubes sewn together, tubes that were alive and throbbing. But to Nikolai it was beautiful and to Wojciechowski it was precious. "No cracks?"

"No." Nikolai answered.

"Hand me the skalpell and the tweezers please." So Nikolai reached for them, he almost knocked them off the tray as he picked them up and his clumsiness reminded him that he was intoxicated. Had his drunken mind missed cracks on Werner's skull? It was possible wasn't it? In panic he looked at his young friends pale face, but he didn't see any lines of blood; then again, he was still half-drunk. He handed Wojciechcowski the instruments with shaky hands, but he didn't notice. 

Wojciechowski put his magnifying glasses to the side and took even thicken ones. He commenced cutting the tumor out. Nikolai watched in fascination. He'd never seen anything like this before. His drunkeness wavered, leaving him a bit tipsy at times and completely sober at others. He'd drank so much in his youth, and since he'd had to come hom sober, he was good at faking his soberity, so good in fact, that he could completely convince himself of being sober. This was one of the times it saved his skin; Wojciechowski would never had known he'd drunken if it wasn't for the taste of vodka on his breath. 

After cutting a good chunk of the tumor off and picking it out with the tweezers, forcing it through the slim hole, Wojciechowski proceded to clean up the tiny mess he'd made, assure that Werners brain was not bleeding in any part and then, carefully, stitch the skin back over the whole and, subsequently, bandage the young man's head. 

For Nikolai it seemed like the operation had gone several hours; or maybe only several minutes, he couldn't decide. In truth, the Russian had been there since an hour. "You can go back to whatever you were doing, thank you, Nikolai." Wojciechowski said. "You were a big help. He's stable. I'm going to wait another hour or so before calling the Lagerführer..." He turned away from the Russian. "I have to disect Ziegler now..."

"Should I help?" Nikolai offered kindly. 

"No, it's too risky for you to stay. Please go." 

"Alright. I'm glad I could help. Fetch me when Werner wakes up or if you need anything."

"I will." Wojciechowksi replied. He was now already starting to regret brushing off the Russians help. He could use another pair of arms to hold up Dr. Ziegler, and later, move Werner from the table to the chair. "Listen, Nikolai-."

"You do need my help. I'd be honoured to stay." And the middle-aged man was so nice about it, that Wojciechowski didn't even feel embarrassed.