Malpractice Incorporated

By Mark Hopkins

In Salt Lake City, Utah, an Ob-Gyn doctor places an emergency phone call. Soon after, he is discovered dead in his office. His death is reported as tragic and attributed to suicide, but when his wife calls the last number dialed on his cell phone she reaches a Dr. Mark Adams, formerly of Utah. Dr. Adams previously embroiled in a conspiracy involving corporate health care two years earlier (Hospital Privileges) unwittingly agrees to help her. After she disappears, Dr. Adams begins an informal investigation of her husbands death. He enlists the help of some old friends including a police officer from Vail, Colorado, Scotty Corrigan, and uncovers a deadly conspiracy involving the collusion of malpractice attorneys, attorneys defending doctors and malpractice insurance companies. As he attempts to gather evidence he finds himself on the run for his life. A race begins between the pursuit of truth and justiceand his very own life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Apr 25, 2011
• ISBN: 9781456729592

Mark Hopkins

Mark A. Hopkins, a person who is highly motivated and determined to accomplish what he sets out to accomplish. Although it’s has been a long road that brings Mark Hopkins to where he is today. Mark had to overcome many trials and Obstacles, and with The Lord’s Help and Determination, he was able to overcome them, as he continues to overcome even more.Mark A. Hopkins loves to see other’s accomplish their goals and live a better life. And believes that we all can accomplish what we set out to accomplish.WE JUST HAVE TO GET BEYOND THAT THING THAT’S STOPPING US.

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Discovery, Salt Lake City, Utah

Friday, August 10th 2007

Gloomy portentous clouds loomed over the Great Salt Lake with the distant thunder rumbling and getting closer and closer. As Dr. Steven Abraham hastened his pace down Cottonwood trail he glanced over his shoulder.

Now, there’s nothing there, just my imagination playing tricks on me.

He continued to pick up his pace toward the parking lot where his car was parked. Now he wished he exercised more and that his round abdomen were flatter. He began to breathe heavily and sweat began to roll off his forehead. He was unsure if it was trepidation or simply physical exertion.

They couldn’t possibly know. How could they have found out, how could they know, oh my God!

When he caught sight of his car he began to feel relieved. He hurriedly unlocked the door and jumped in. As he maneuvered the vehicle down the winding road of Cottonwood Canyon toward his office in Salt Lake City he glimpsed behind in the rearview mirror to see if any cars were following him. He observed no one.

Just my imagination.

He heaved a sigh of relief, sweat still dripping off his forehead and his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his ears.

Two minutes later a black Lexus pulled out of the same parking lot travelling down Cottonwood Canyon.

Stay back; give him plenty of lead time. We don’t want him running, the driver said with a devilish grin carelessly throwing his half finished cigarette out the window.

Dr. Abraham accelerated down the winding road crossing over the double yellow line on a blind curve nearly hitting another vehicle head-on. The irate driver honked his horn at him loudly.

Slow down, relax, you don’t need a speeding ticket on the way to your office.

As he pulled into the parking lot it was empty as he had anticipated. It was Friday, but he had decided to close his office that day for a three day weekend. It was the ideal time to catch up on paperwork with no one to pester him with questions on prenatal medicines, prescription refills or emergency phone calls. Sort of a three day weekend…except he was working on his day off.

He was not so sure if he would get away with what he had done and kept looking over his shoulder imagining that someone was following him. His heart began to pound again. As he walked into his office everything looked customary, stacks of papers, charts and dictations to sign. The life of a doctor in private practice when I should be home with my family here I am in the office working on my day off. Well at least I got my morning hike in, he thought, Working six days a week, sometimes seven and just making enough money to pay my malpractice insurance of $150,000 a year. Although I guess I should feel lucky because this is only average for an Ob-Gyn physician. I know some doctors paying close to $200,000 per year and I don’t know how they can possibly afford to even keep their doors open. I know why they are moving to physician friendly states, states where the politicians actually support the doctors, nurses, hospitals, patients and other healthcare workers. The AMA liability crisis map1 is one key to comprehending the whole dilemma and now I intend to put an end to this corporation, to this parasitic infection of medical practices. Why can’t more patients (aka health care consumers…) find out about organizations like protectpatientsnow.org? Why can’t every state be like Texas and enact tort reform?2 He looked down to the document he was reading shaking his head in consternation, Here they are, the malpractice attorneys and trial lawyers schooling each other in techniques to sue Ob-gyn doctors for medical malpractice for birth related injuries to the brain3. It is truthfully a miracle that we have Ob-gyn doctors still delivering babies in Utah or in any other state for that matter. The preponderance of both medical and legal current evidence has completely exonerated the majority of the Ob-gyn doctors who have been sued in the past for medical malpractice for TBI (traumatic brain injuries4).

The rain started to come down in giant drops hitting his window with a pattering sound. A nearby lightning bolt made him jump. The lights began to flicker. His window had a view of the parking lot and he pulled the shutter open glancing fretfully but he only observed his car through the downpour. He began to sweat profusely with his heart pounding again. He reached up with a handkerchief and wiped his forehead.

The black Lexus with its two occupants unhurriedly pulled into the parking lot next to Dr. Abraham’s Ford Taurus.

Charlie get down there and get the tracking device off the good doctor’s car, ordered Ralph in an authoritative voice that Charlie would not question. Charlie knelt down and reached under the back of the Ford Taurus retrieving a small 1 in. diameter metallic device. Charlie was a slighter man, mid forties and balding on the top of his head. He walked up to Ralph trying to cover his head from the torrential rain.

OK boss, can we pay the doctor a visit now? It’s not raining in there. He pointed to the building.

Ralph smiled and opened his jacket revealing the 9 mm berretta. He had a daunting appearance, 6 foot four, 250 pounds with a glower in his eyes that told you that he didn’t care about anything or anyone.

Let’s go, barked Ralph.

Dr. Abraham continued to work on his charts intermittently glancing over his shoulder and then noticed the black Lexus. Oh my God, they found me, where to run, he quickly rummaged around the papers on his desk. Where did I put that number, he’s the only one that can help; I can’t be sure about the police, the influence of MINC is too far reaching. As he frantically sorted through the papers Ralph and Charlie closed in on the office. There it is, finally, he quickly pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number. It was ringing… Please answer please, he said with his voice trembling with fear.

Dr. Mark Adams peacefully reclined on a chair in the shadow of a palm tree on a beach in the resort in the Caribbean. Mark and Stephen, his two sons, and his wife, Polly found comfortable shaded spots as well relaxing sipping their ice water and were enjoying a picturesque view of the ocean.

You know I wonder what’s next. After the first book, Hospital Privileges and the settlement from the FBI I’m still speculating what we should do. I miss the practice of medicine but don’t know if I miss it enough to go back to it, said Dr. Adams conversing with himself and anyone who happened to be paying attention. After what he had been through he was unenthusiastic to do anything too hastily. Having been on the run for his life from a colossal multibillion dollar corporation so dominant that it had ties to the government, he was reluctant to get back into the same medical practice that had caused all these troubles in the first place. Maybe I should just be a commonplace civilian leading a run of the mill humdrum life like the rest of everyone in this country not concerned about the continued immoral and unethical character of the corporations, not concerned about the corruption in our government. I could just carry on with a writing career or just retire for good, perhaps I could become a recluse or hermit, maybe move to Canada. It would be prudent and out of harm’s way. As he continued to debate the future with himself, Polly intervened.

Oh you know we just received a postcard from Courtney, her family has a houseboat on Lake Powell and she wants to know if you feel like coming up this summer to vacation, said Polly trying to get his mind on something else. She had been wedded long enough to him to know when he was brooding.

What’s Courtney up to now, scaling Mt. Everest? Dr. Adams laughed heartily picturing her on the snow-capped peak doing jumping jacks with a hundred pound backpack.

And then Stephen chimed in, Do you know where the bathroom is? turning to Polly.

Why didn’t you go in the house before we came to the beach? No never mind, there’s one on the other side of the pool. Polly smiled and shook her head.

Dr. Adams cell phone began to ring. Who in the world would be calling me here, no one even knows I’m here. I do not want to answer this phone call.

Polly looked over at her husband, "I thought you weren’t supposed to use that cell-phone anymore, didn’t they say it could be traced and to use the new one?

Well I kind of kept it for sentimental reasons. answered Dr. Adams sheepishly.

Go ahead and answer it. Maybe it’s Courtney, said Polly, ever the optimist. His phone continued to ring and ring…

Oh alright, I’ll answer it. Dr. Adams picked up the cell phone and answered, Hello this is Dr. Adams. Hello this is Dr. Adams. Hello is anyone there? OK goodbye.

He turned to Polly. That was peculiar, no one on the other end of the line, almost certainly another wrong number. He debated redialing then decided not to. Dr. Adams looked at Polly shaking his head inquisitively, then reached down and turned his cell phone off. OK, now we can really relax. Dr. Adams smiled as he put his cell phone in their beach bag permanently disabled.

Ralph burst into Dr. Abraham’s office with Charlie close behind. Dr. Abraham rapidly shut off his cell-phone sliding it under some papers. He had an expression of dread on his face. Ralph looked at the papers smiling with a devilish smirk.

Doctor, doctor, you’ve been a bad boy and now we need to terminate your contract. The corporation sent us. Who have you been talking to about the corporation? If you let us know and give us the names we won’t hurt you or your family, we’ll simply have you sign this contract that removes all of your interest in the corporation. Sound fair enough? said Ralph in an imposing voice. Oh and one more thing, hand over the cell-phone.

Dr. Abraham broke out into a cold sweat. His hands were trembling as he pulled the cell phone out from under the papers where he had tried to hide it. You won’t hurt me if I give you the names and promise you won’t hurt the other two doctors?

As I see it doc you’re not in much of a position to bargain here, but sure we won’t hurt the other docs. We don’t even plan on hurting you. As soon as you sign the contract we’re out of here and you’re free to get on with your life, said Ralph smiling with Charlie smiling in the background. We’re your friends, just sign the contract, said Ralph as he shoved it in front of the doctor. Just sign the last page."

Dr. Abraham started reading the first page of the contract, I, Dr. Steven Abraham do hereby on August 10, 2007 dissolve all interest in MINC and hereby will forever remain silent and will keep highly confidential any prior communications with MINC…

Ralph walked over to him and put his hands on his shoulders and said, What are you reading the contract for, I thought you trusted us, don’t you trust us? Ralph slid the first three papers forward just a little bit exposing the signature block on the fourth and final page.

OK I trust you and I’m signing it now, said Dr. Abraham visibly shaking. OK the names of the other two doctors are Mark Rosenberg and Peter Stone; you can find their numbers in the phone book. I haven’t talked to anyone else and am really not sure what their plans are, said Dr. Abraham as he signed the contract.

Hey Doc, why don’t you look up the numbers of those two doctors to make it easier on me? said Ralph situating his face about 2 inches from the doctor’s face.

Dr. Abraham fumbled through his telephone directory and recited the telephone numbers to Ralph.

OK doc that’s all we needed. Now that wasn’t too hard was it?

Hey doctor, so, you’re right handed huh? said Charlie as Ralph turned around facing the door.

Why do you want to know if I’m right handed?

As Ralph faced the door with his back to the doctor he donned a pair of black gloves.

Oh doctor, did you read the last page of the contract before you signed it, that might answer your question, inquired Charlie smiling.

Dr. Abraham pushed the first three papers aside and started reading the last page. But this is a suicide note and that means I have to be dead, he said with a countenance of terror on his face. Dr. Abraham looked at him with a pleading look on his face too terrified to say anything with tears streaming down his cheeks.

Dead, said Ralph as he whirled around and fired a single shot at point blank range hitting the doctor in the forehead splattering blood over his shirt and face. I hope he doesn’t have anything contagious, said Ralph laughing.

Hey boss, I think he’s dead, said Charlie laughing along with Ralph.

Charlie finish up here while I cleanup in the bathroom. I just bought this shirt, next time remind me to wear one of my throwaways, said Ralph as he sauntered out of the office.

Charlie pulled out the contract and removed the first three pages. Now what’s left is your signed suicide note, said Charlie, All I need to do is hand you your gun and we’re all set. He planted the gun firmly in the doctor’s right hand letting it drop to the floor afterwards. Oops, you dropped your gun doc.

Ralph ambled in and put his gloves back on pulling the cell-phone out from under the papers. We better leave the cell-phone here because someone might be looking for it but before we do that let’s check the last number called and the winner is 435-901-2073. Write it down Charlie.

Do you think they’ll believe it? asked Charlie.

Who cares, answered Ralph chuckling as he left the office, The important thing is that he’s not talking anymore.

They indifferently walked to the black Lexus and drove off. Ralph let Charlie drive. He pulled out his cell phone. Listen, I need a trace on this phone number 4359012073. It may be nothing but I don’t want to take any chances. When you find out, call me back.

Consider it done, said Ned. Ned was a slender geek-ish looking computer whiz with black framed glasses who sat at an office surrounded by electronic equipment. He reached over to the phone and pushed a speed dial button.

You have reached the office of the Deputy Secretary of Defense, may I help you?

Yes, I need to speak to him, to Herbert Rasmussen and tell him it’s Ned Porter from the National Security Agency.

I’ll put your call through now, this was followed by a series of clicks and then the deputy secretary picked up the phone. Why are you calling me here?

We have a problem. He may have placed a call on his cell phone before his accident and you know who I am talking about. We need to know this number: 4359012073. I’m prepared to put a trace on this number, but it needs to be official business.

How official?

Sir, you know the drill; in support of the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act, the USA Patriot Act of 2001 and the Protect America Act of 2007.

We did not need this now. We’re already coming under scrutiny and cannot draw attention to ourselves…Fine, assign a team to it and have them get in touch with Dan at the National Reconnaissance Office, goodbye.

Ned answered, So I take it I have your approval sir to monitor this phone number and begin a formal training operation?

Yes, call it Training Operation Delta; you’ll have the paperwork on it later today.

Thank you sir, I’ll get right on it, Ned speed-dialed the NRO.

National Reconnaissance Office, may I help you?

This is Ned Porter from the NSA. I need to set up a training op. Put Dan Roberts on the line.

This is Dan Roberts. How may I help you?

"Hi, it’s Ned Porter. We will be setting up an SCI (Sensitive

Compartmented Information5) training op. I have authorization from Herbert Rasmussen, Deputy Secretary of Defense. We will call it Training Operation Delta. You’ll receive the official paperwork on it later. This is sensitive compartmented information, no one knows about this, no one asks about this unless they go through me first, understand? This involves MINC."

Yes, I understand. replied Dan.

Ned walked down the hallway to the office of Signals Intelligence. As he walked into the room, a slender Asian female was busy at her desk surrounded by computer terminals and electronics equipment.

Ned turned to her and showed her the cell phone number he had scribbled on a piece of paper. Who is this? We need to trace this telephone number as part of Training Operation Delta.

She started typing on her computer, typing in the phone number, Let’s see who this is and it is coming up now. So interesting it’s Dr. Mark Adams current address not listed, that’s odd, location unknown. Who is this guy, a secret agent? Shay-lee giggled to herself. Let’s look a little deeper, and this was followed by rapid typing on the keyboard. This is interesting, this guy’s under some sort of protected status with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

Do you miss working at MINC at all?

I get to play a lot more here than I did when I was over there and you have nicer toys over here too. They kept me on a short leash at MINC. You know, after I finished programming all their systems and had everything up and running they didn’t treat me the same. They cut my salary and told me I could either accept it or leave. Yes, I like it here a lot better. Those attorneys, they would always speak with a forked tongue, answered Shay-lee and as she answered Ned’s question, she thought to herself, Yes, my little MINC, I left you a sort of going away present before I departed. You better not mess with me, but then she turned her attention to Ned again.

Can you access that site? asked Ned.

I am the queen of hacking, I can do anything, said Shay-lee laughing, Just give me one minute, there we go, obtaining presidential clearance, now we have oh very interesting, very interesting indeed. Shay-lee paused staring at the computer screen waiting for a response from Ned which she knew she would get sooner rather than later.

Well what? said Ned.

Well look. Dr. Mark Adams, witness protection program, the Federal Bureau of investigation. What was he involved in? This is going to require some research. Anyway, here’s his former address: 3252 American Saddler Drive, Park City, Utah 84060, and his current protected and highly secret no more address is ta da: 1704 East Trade Winds Court, Flagstaff, Arizona 86001. Let’s find out why he is under federal protection. This was followed by more typing on the keyboard and now the monitor started flashing a red warning signal:

Top-secret, sensitive compartmented information

Synopsis: This witness is responsible for the conviction of Richard Rushy in Southern Surgical Centers Inc. Dr. Adams was instrumental in uncovering the plot that resulted in the convictions and sentencing of executives at Southern Surgical Centers Inc. as well as I.C.C. Inc., International Communications Corporation Inc. I.C.C. Inc. was also indicted for their part in the ownership of surgical centers. They continued to read the detailed report and Ned showed a look of increasing concern on his countenance.

This is not going to make the boss happy, said Ned, I’m calling him now.

Hello Sir, I have the information you need. Is this phone secure?

Yes, proceed, snapped the deputy secretary obviously in a bad mood which was about to get worse.

We have the identity of the person associated with the phone number that you requested. He is another doctor by the name of Dr. Mark Adams. He is under the Federal witness protection program.

I remember reading about this in the paper. Is this is the doctor who came off with a wild theory that no one believed at first? And that resulted in the conviction of Richard Rushy of Southern Surgical Corp. as well as Lloyd Anglais from International Communications Corp. in Chicago?

Yes indeed sir, answered Ned.

It was too close to home. I remember it well; he became a national hero overnight, achieved some sort of celebrity status for bringing down the big corporation, the so called David vs. Goliath type story that the media loves and the public loves even more. It came very close to undermining our operation but fortunately the connection to us was never made. You know what to do, assemble a team, keep it quiet and tell me when it’s over.

I’ll take care of it sir, responded Ned.

Shay-lee turned to Ned, This isn’t any training operation. This is for real isn’t it? Shay-lee had an obvious look of apprehension on her face.

You are correct. Don’t mention this to anyone outside of this office. Are we clear on that?

"I won’t mention anything, but why are we so interested in this doctor?" asked Shay-lee with a quizzical look, and then she smiled knowing that Ned’s chilly temperament would quickly melt away.

That is for me to know and for you to never know, clear? said Ned smiling back. Shay-lee just smiled back in return. Remember, this operation will be classified sensitive compartmented information and called Training Operation Delta, we need to track this person, you know what to do. I will assemble a team today that will start working immediately. OK, I’m not supposed to tell you this but he’s possibly in some type of danger and that’s as much as I’m going to say.

Shay-lee nodded her head, smiled and began typing on the keyboard. Ned strolled back to his office, made a few phone calls and awaited his next visitors.

About one hour later two rough looking characters sauntered into Ned’s office.

I’m Hector, said the large Latino with a crew cut, missing one of his front teeth.

And I’m Lenny, stated a large, tanned, muscular man with blond hair in a spike.

So what are your stories? asked Ned.

Hector answered first, Former special ops, got in trouble for fighting.

Ned looked at Hector as he was thumbing through his file, And during that fight one person was killed with a single punch, ruled accidental. Did I miss anything?

That’s the story and I’m proud to serve, and one more thing sir, he deserved it! answered Hector saluting Ned with a smirk on his face.

Ned then turned to Lenny who answered, That trouble in Iraq supposedly for pillaging, murdering 15 men and raping several women in a village, sir, they could never prove anything and I received a court martial for disorderly conduct.

Ned frowned carefully studying both Lenny and Hector and then briefed them finishing with, Here are your plane tickets, don’t miss your flight.

We are on it, replied Hector as both of them strolled out of his office.

Ned walked back to his office and called Shay-lee in. So what’s the scoop?

I have everything on Dr. Mark Adams, home phone, cell phone, Internet IP address, vacation reservations and much more. Would you like me to insert a spyware program on his computer to obtain his passwords sir? queried Shay-lee smiling.

Let’s go ahead and do that too, because I think it will be easier to track his locations that way, thank you, great job Shay-lee, said Ned smiling back nodding his head.

Hector and Lenny had a van labeled Intermountain Heating & Air Conditioning waiting for them at the Sky Harbor Phoenix International Airport when they arrived. They drove it directly to Flagstaff, Arizona and then to Pine Canyon golf resort. As they approached the guard house they were waved over.

Lot 26 Adams put in a request for an air conditioning estimate. We just need to take a look at the property. They’re expecting us, said Lenny smiling as Hector sat in the passenger seat.

The guard checked in the logbook, Hopkins, lot 26 for Intermountain Heating & Air Conditioning estimates on August 10th 2007. It was just called in a few minutes ago. Do you know where to go?

Well actually, we could use some directions, answered Lenny smiling courteously.

Turn left at the T intersection, then head up the hill and take the first right, then turn on to Trade Winds Court and you’ll see their house. Take care,