When the Bulgarian nurses jostled Mike Dougherty onto the hospital bed, he noticed that the sheets were red and damp with someone else’s blood.
The American lay in a hospital in Plovdiv, Bulgaria, disoriented and in pain, hoping he wouldn’t die or lose his foot. A Bulgarian doctor had hurriedly bandaged his shredded hands, peppered with shrapnel, and sutured the gash on his bleeding foot. At the open window, pigeons clustered on the sill, cooing.
Suddenly, a Bulgarian plainclothes intelligence officer arrived with an English interpreter and ordered the medical staff to leave the hospital room.