The next morning a little before seven a.m., the sun was nowhere to be found in Rockford, Illinois, an hour and a half drive southwest of Milwaukee down first I-43 and then I-90. The cloud cover brought the temperature up to thirty degrees Fahrenheit, which felt like a heatwave given the recent cold snap. A light, damp mist partially shrouded the home of Dr. Aarav Sadana.
Sadana graduated from King George’s Medical University in Lucknow, India twenty-three years ago. The state of Illinois was the sixth friendliest to Foreign Medical Graduates, so after passing his United States Medical Licensing Examination, he matched with Southern Illinois University’s OB/GYN residency. He completed his training there in four years. His accent was heavy, and he initially had a hard time connecting with his patients. So he was thrilled when he landed a job at the Rockford Center for Reproductive Health. He took over as medical director three years into his practice and had served as the clinic’s lone physician the last fifteen years. His English improved over the years, and he knew he could build a busy obstetrics practice. But he felt the center’s patients needed him, and that kept him at the clinic.
Sadana had a good life. He lived on Sinnissippi, a private golf club built on the city’s east side more than ninety years before. He was introduced to the game while in residency and became hooked immediately. He was also a runner and six days a week he left his house at seven a.m. and completed a four-mile route on mostly asphalt-covered cart paths inside the country club grounds.
The FBI had assigned staff to protect all abortion providers within three hundred miles of Milwaukee. It took a lot of manpower but, with two separate physicians murdered within the last four weeks, nobody was taking chances.
Sadana had on black running tights and two thin top layers under a grey SIU fleece. He also wore a black stocking hat and gloves. The five foot seven Sadana did a couple quick stretches alongside the six foot two agent who’d been assigned to him, and they headed out behind his house at a brisk jog.
The path was clear for the most part, but occasionally they had to steer around ice or snow to avoid a spill. The agent led the way, his head on a swivel to spot potential trouble early. He wasn’t crazy about the morning runs, knowing two other doctors within a couple hundred miles had been gunned down recently. But Sadana was running with or without him, leaving the agent little choice but to accompany him. The agent was in superb shape, but he had to admit the smaller doc pushed him.