Sam's eyes slowly opened. Her vision was hazy, and she couldn't remember what happened immediately. She slowly but surely recalled the scuffle with the premier and her wound as she slipped back into consciousness.
Her vision cleared as she awoke, and she remembered how she was brought into the helicopter for her quick operation. At least she thought it was quick. She had no idea what time it was or how long she was out. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours. She had no idea.
Sam noticed that the pain in her shoulder was completely gone. Well, she hoped it was. Her left arm was still completely numb, so she couldn't say for sure how sore it was. She certainly couldn't test it now, since her arm was completely limp with pain-killing drugs.
"Good, you're awake." The doctor nearby turned to her. "I'll have you know you've been all patched up and the bullet's been removed. Your recovery should go smoothly, as long as you don't put too much strain on that shoulder for a few hours. We cleaned up all the blood that was left over on your body, too."
Sam looked down to her shoulder. Like he said, the blood was all gone, and the well-stitched scar was the only evidence she was injured in the first place.
"Um," she said shyly, "may I please have a shirt?"
The doctor nodded and brought out a simple, teal T-shirt. He helped lift her limp arm and get the shirt on. When she was fully clothed, he smiled and turned back.
"Alright, well I'll leave you to yourself for a bit to go check on your friend. Just relax for now. We'll have you ready to leave soon enough." Before he left, he placed Sam's bag on a small table next to her, near her good arm. He left her alone moments later.
Now alone, Sam thought about all that was put on her shoulders. She was now in first aid alongside the most wanted man in the world, and she could easily lose her job quickly should the president discover what had happened. She didn't exactly know what Luke's job was or who hired him to do it, but she was sure Lloyd had no intention to keep Saburo alive. He approved of all the propaganda printed about the man, and was a fairly loyal ally to Japan's Prime Minister. She didn't know why Americans were assisting Saburo at all. None of it made sense to her.
Sighing, Sam reached to behind her and pulled the hairband that had kept her pony-tail in out of her hair. She didn't need to hide her hair anymore, anyway. Her long and wavy hair fell down her back. She wanted to put her bows back in, but unfortunately, she usually needed both hands to get the knots right. For now, this would suffice.
Reaching into her bag, Sam felt around for one of the manga volumes she kept inside. If she had to wait to get out of here, she might as well get some reading in. So Sam read in her bed, alone in a medical copter, waiting for Sam or Saburo or the doctor or
anybody to come in and explain to her what exactly was going on.