On the Colombian Ecuador border
Angelique cursed under her breath at the sound of small-arms fire as she tied off the last suture in the leg of the four-year-old boy lying on her exam table. The ongoing civil war and the war on drugs constantly spilled over the border as a steady stream of predators crossed from the neighboring Colombia. All were heavily armed and dangerous. They stopped at the field hospital the locals were calling Manos de Ayuda when one of them needed patching up. Angelique begrudged them every inch of 4-0 silk used to stitch their wounds.Equally as bad were the mercenaries looking to make a profit off the backs of those less fortunate. Rough-looking men with rough behavior, which they often visited upon the women of village.