by R L Dunn
"I need another set of cardiac enzymes as well as an HCG level," Elizabeth’s voice quivered.
"I'm having trouble finding a vein; can you come here?" he whined.
Elizabeth shrieked when Satanta twisted her hair around clenched fingers and dragged her to him. “Please, if I don't draw the blood, you won't know if Toni is having a baby. Let me help my nurse."
Bouncing on his tiptoes, he let her free. "Alright, don't try anything."
Striking like a cobra, Martin swept her behind him. He pushed her to the floor and drew his gun. "On the ground!"
Jasper lunged, cold steel raised above his head. Without hesitation, Martin fired a single shot into his shoulder. The knife skittered across the floor, and Mathias and Emerson raced in to take control of their prisoner. Martin knelt beside the shaking Elizabeth.
"Marty, oh God, you… You...." Her right hand clung to him as her eyes glazed over.
"Shh, Sunshine, you’re safe. I got you. Come on, Patrick needs to examine you." He made sure she could see his face as he spoke, aware her ears had to be ringing.
"Keller, Slater, check over Ms. Torres." Patrick followed Martin, carrying Elizabeth to an exam room.
"I'm fine." Elizabeth was full of bravado if not sense.
"Let me be the judge of that. Pulse seventy-two." He pulled the blood pressure cuff on the wall, to measure hers. "92/64." Elizabeth was wet with a cold sweat. He and Martin removed her lab coat before shawling her in a blanket. "Let's lay you back." He elevated her feet. "Beth, can you wiggle your fingers?" Patrick checked her circulation and sensation.
"Just put it back in, Pat," she pleaded.
"Is this your first dislocation? He punched you. Did you hit your head?" His fingers ran over her facial bones, and he flashed a beam of light in each eye. "I want to give you something to relax." Elizabeth shook her head to all Patrick's questions.
Martin averted his eyes and swallowed back the curse forming on his lips. Lewis had to be the cause of a previous one.
"Please, just do it."
"I'll try once. If it doesn't go, I'm sedating you. Ready? Farmer, hold Elizabeth's right hand. Distract her."
Martin's posture remained stiff as he took her hand. "Let me see your beautiful eyes.” His lips caressed her swollen face.
Patrick bent Elizabeth's arm to ninety degrees. Before he rotated her shoulder until it relocated, he waited for her muscles to loosen. "I'm going to order an x-ray and an immobilizer. Then I want you to go home to rest." He cleaned the wounds to her throat.
Elizabeth gritted her teeth. "Sensation is coming back."
"Sunshine, you need to listen to Viper."
"You have one of them too?"
"I do." The tension in Patrick’s face released.
"You don't act like a snake." She tilted her head to the side.
"I'll tell you the whole story if you go home and rest."
"But the unit? And Tonette."
"Steven is on his way. I'll cover with your residents until he gets here. Your swaddle is keeping Austin placid. Tell me about Tonette?"
"Left wall MI. She's twelve weeks along, meaning conception occurred in jail. She coded when I asked her if she was raped."
"C'mon, Sunshine. Let me take you home. Patrick will worry about Tonette." Martin and Patrick shared a concerned glance.
"Don’t worry about anything, Beth. Let me find that immobilizer."
She braced herself with her right arm to sit up. "Marty, you need to be here with Austin. Familiar voices are important as his brain is recalibrating. My car is here; I can drive."
"Work with me. Allow Tate to take you home, and I'll come by in the morning to pick you up." Martin's cheek rested on her head that lay against his heart.
The door opened. "Tate, would you accompany Martin and Beth to radiology? Beth, let me prescribe some meloxicam. What pharmacy do you use?" Patrick's voice was soothing.
"Beth, Martin would prefer I stay with you," Tate told her on the ride.
"I guess that is something we need to discuss. It will take me some time to acclimate to Marty's protectiveness. Are you all this way?"
"I guess so. My wife calls me a Neanderthal sometimes."
"You're married?"
"That surprises you? We have two sons, ages ten and seven. She’s used to deployments."
"You guessed my question. I'm exhausted. I think I'll have a cup of tea, take a bath and crawl into bed," she yawned.
"The adrenaline does that. Happens to the best of us. How are you doing?"
"So-so." The color drained from her face.
"Beth, you don't need to be so stoic. Let me stay with you?"
"How do you do this every day?" Martin's calm demeanor in Tonette's room and Patrick's story played on repeat in her head.
"We don't so much anymore. But all of us had our share of the shakes."
"Maybe you could come in for a while? Would you tell me something about Marty? A story about working with him. There’s so much time to make up for."
"Sure thing." He pulled into her driveway and helped her out of the car. "Someone sent you a present." Three sealed jars of gourmet honey sat inside a cellophane-wrapped basket. The typed card read, Didn't mean to bother you. Detective Young. "Wow, a detective apologizing is unusual."
"I called Mr. Newsome. He tried to question me yesterday. Are you sure you don't want anything to drink?"
"Water would be great. So, you want to hear a Martin story?" He pulled up a seat at her table after performing a walkthrough of her house.
She handed him a water bottle. Tearing the gift packaging, she put a spoonful of honey in her tea. "Were you with him when he got that scar?"
"Which one?"
"Not so good at fishing, huh? I guess I'll start with the one on his chest."
"I'll let him tell you that one, but I will tell you a story about his first tour to Afghanistan. December 2001, we were assigned to Task Force K-Bar. The original name was the Combined Joint Special Operations Task Force - South, part of the first major ground invasion in Afghanistan Operation Anaconda. The military loves long words and acronyms,” he said, chuckling.
“Martin was new to the teams and to our squad. Three weeks into the deployment, the mission tempo was so high we stopped counting the number of assignments. One night, eight of us hiked about eighteen hundred yards up the side of a mountain. On the other face was a Taliban stronghold. Our job was to photograph and destroy a lightly-manned outpost, but the intelligence was bad—it was a fully-operational base. Caves stored tons of arms and munitions, and tunnels moved troops and vehicles. We counted at least one hundred fighters.”
“Oh my God,” Elizabeth worried.
Tate closed and reopened his eyes. “Our plan changed to avoid being caught: gather the intel, relay it, and get out of there. The flyboys would blow it up after we were tucked in bed.”
He shrugged. “Plans have a way of falling apart, though, because a nasty storm rolled in. A job planned for a few hours grew to three days. Then things went to hell, and Greece got sick about five hours later. It turned out he had kidney stones blocking his tube and a severe infection."
"Did you have any antibiotics and pain meds?" Even though it was over fifteen years ago, she worried about the soldier.
"We did, but not enough for three days. Martin, along with our medic, Alamo, were tasked to stay with him. By day four, he was burning up and in agony." His shoulders tightened.
"Wait, you said three days?" Her brows fretted.
Tate smiled. "Welcome to the military. Weather refused to break, leaving us stranded. The longer we stayed increased the jeopardy. Greece understood if he cried out, our position wouldn't stay secret. We took turns lying beside him to keep him warm, sharing our supplies with him, trying to keep him hydrated and comfortable. Martin told us his mom used to fill socks with hot salt when he got an earache. He carried him over his shoulder in a blizzard up another thousand feet to a small cave and built a fire. No salt, but he filled a sock wi
th sand."
"Old-fashioned hot packs." She was proud.
"On the sixth day, the weather cleared, and we managed to hike out to a rendezvous spot. In the service and working for Chase Security, I witnessed Martin do things like that often. He finds a way out, even at his own risk."
Elizabeth's eyes were drooping.
"You’re tired. Let me stay?"
"No, Tate. The best thing for me is to go to sleep."
Chapter Thirteen
Martin guzzled from a water bottle, then crushed it and hurled it against the wall in frustration. Aware he almost lost Elizabeth again, as soon as she left the hospital, he demanded an explanation about why the two cops abandoned their post. Janice and Matteo's presence stopped him from throttling Lieutenant Irvin Lamb, who arrived to take his complaint.
His parents found him pacing the room designated for the family to wait in private. "We took Janey home to rest a while; Patrick told us what happened. Where is Elizabeth?" Fay eyed her son.
"Tate took her home."
"Marty, you need to rest too." Dennis put an arm around his shoulders.
"I almost lost her again. Today, seeing that bastard holding that knife, I promised myself no one would hurt her again. I broke my own promise."
"None of us can make those promises, no matter how much we love someone." Fay opened her arms to her firstborn.
"Mom, it’s so hard. As much as I want to, I can't lock her away to keep her safe," he admitted.
As the afternoon moved into evening, Martin paid attention to the encrypted notes on his laptop.
Joseph “Red” Canel from Bravo team posted that Troy managed to buy some pot from fellow prisoners. Troy was posing as Royce Mills, a thirty-six-year-old pretrial remand for domestic abuse, auto theft, and possession for sale and distribution. His rap sheet said he’d been in trouble since his teens, all for offenses involving drugs.
More violent pornography traced to the Silverton distribution hub hit the internet. Facial recognition examination of the material identified two males and one female as indigent inmates who were listed as “died in custody.” None of the children seen in the pictures were identified, including the Jane Doe.
Indigent deaths all went through the office of the Director of Corrections, Clay Jenner. A picture of him triggered a sense of familiarity, but his background record showed nothing irregular. Martin texted Mike to repeat all checks into Jenner, as well as a new request to investigate the circumstances of Tonette's incarceration.
The last file contained the recent updates on other requested information. Shaun Murray was no regular soldier; he left the Air Force as an E-9 Chief Master Sergeant in Intelligence.
Patrick came in smiling. "Austin opened his eyes. To be honest, I didn't expect this. I'm not sure how much he understands, but this is…" His hands opened, palms up. "Keep the visits short; this is a strain on him."
Martin stood in the corner watching the family take turns speaking to Austin. As the evening moved toward the night, Austin's eyes started to track Janey. At his turn, Martin held his hand, "I love you, baby brother." He jumped when Austin squeezed his hand in return. "Aus, squeeze my fingers." Gray eyes similar to his blinked. He teared up when Austin squeezed his hand followed by a not-quite-regulation sign—his middle finger rose.
"Austin, I'm Seth. Can you raise your hand?" Seth, head of the Chase Denver Medical Center, smiled as the former Marine responded to simple questions with sign language.
Martin tousled his hair like he did when they were kids. Able to read his brother's pleading eyes, he broke the news, explaining to Austin he’d been shot five days earlier.
Y? His thumb and pinky pointed up while his three others curled to his palm.
"Not sure." Martin sat beside him.
Janey. Austin's fingers moved with effort.
"She's with Mom, eating and drinking something."
Baby?
"Not yet,"
U help. Austin's heart rate increased.
"Mom, her mom, Mandy, and Livvy plan to come. But if she'll let me, I'll be with her too. I promise."
Austin's motions became frenzied. Alarms sounded. Ur godson.
"Shh, I'll do anything for you. A boy. Godfather? Shit, bro. Wow." He knocked his fist against his heart.
Austin's lids lowered, and he stilled.
Seth called out from his station where he was monitoring the dialysis, "Wrap it up."
Austin's eyes opened. Shot?
"Yes, five days ago."
What? Austin repeated.
"The EMTs found you in a drainage ditch. Elizabeth Reed spent ten hours operating on you."
Austin yanked on Martin's wrist. Martin included how she saved him and what was beginning to happen again between them.
He signed, you two.
"I hope so. I want it to be. I never stopped loving her."
Duh. Austin tremored, and his hand collapsed on the bed.
Martin held up his hand to the two PAs. "I'm going. Janey will be back to say goodnight. Now, close your eyes."
Tears welled up in his eyes, and Austin snatched at Martin's arm. U care her. I die u care.
Martin pulled his hand against his heart. "You aren't going to die."
Martin saw the strange look on his mother's face and the wet spot on Janey's skirt as she waddled in. He quirked his brow, and Fay nodded. "Aus, oh, honey. My water broke," Janey cried.
Austin flailed in an attempt to sit up, but pain and weakness won. I...U... The monitors started shrieking with alarms. Seth and the other PA, Tess, raced to either side of the bed.
"Austin, stop. I got it." Martin leaned over his face. "I'm going to check Janey into the maternity ward. I will relay everything ASAP." He kissed his brother's head.
Martin whisked Janey in a wheelchair toward the elevator. Bravo team’s Trask "Head Cap" Winslow was posted at the entrance to the ICU. "Head Cap, call Raptor, tell him Austin's awake and his wife is in labor. I need a set of coms and a video set-up. Also, ask him to dispatch two operators to Labor and Delivery. I don't want the press to interfere with this."
"Good luck, ma'am. I'll take care of things, boss." Trask squeezed Janey's shoulder.
Once Janey was safe with his mom and the delivery room staff, he returned to the ICU to find Austin struggling with Seth. "Cut it out. Your kid needs you healthy. I have an earpiece for you and video coming. But if Seth or Tess tells me you need rest, I'm shutting the feed. They’re starting an IV and checking her out. After I call Elizabeth to tell her about you, I will go right back to Janey."
TY. Austin fell asleep.
Elizabeth ached. Her phone was heavy in her hands. "Sunshine, you did it. Austin...he's awake. And Janey is in labor.”
"Do you want me to come?" Her voice was raspy.
"No, Sunshine, go back to sleep. I'm sorry I woke you. If I can't leave here, someone will pick you up in the morning. I love you so much."
"I'm so glad. I love you too, Marty. Today and always." Her head fell back onto the pillow.
Martin scanned the pastel-colored room. It looked like Easter eggs exploded. "Mr. Bailey, I'm Lois Massey, Janey's obstetrician. Your mom filled me in on the situation and what you did for Beth. Thank you. Janey is moving right along for a first baby. She's at five centimeters. I'm going to change, and I'll be right back." The sculpted brunette in her thirties headed out the door.
"Hey, honey, how ya doing?" Martin pulled up a chair.
"I'll skip the epidural, I think."
"How about we try to talk to Austin? I'm going to put this in your ear. If you tap it here, you’ll be able to talk to him. Seth or Tess will help him answer you." The small earpiece rested in his palm.
In the back and forth, Janey made the decision to skip the epidural and asked Martin to stay as a substitute coach. Wolf showed up about thirty minutes later with a video setup. "Mrs. Bailey, I'm Archie Stevenson. I'll make sure you two can see each other."
"Marty said your name is Wolf." Janey scrunched her brows.
>
Fay laughed. "Janey, these military men all have nicknames. Marty's is Farmer. You can ask Austin how he got that." One eyebrow rose.
"Marty grew up on a farm, right?"
"They used to call him Iowa. Austin helped him earn Farmer." She offered an amused smile.
"How long have you known, Mom?"
"Five minutes after Ian called from Iraq to speak to Austin. Janey, 'Iowa' was stationed in Iraq when Austin decided he would cheer his brother up by sending him some drought-resistant seeds. Marty got the seeds to grow. His crop-sowing almost cost him his career. Austin thought it would be funny to send him pot seeds."
Janey laughed and groaned in time for the next contraction. Martin stood. "Janey, breathe with me." The preparation Ian ordered him to go through during his wife’s pregnancy was about to pay off again. "Another breath."
Wolf flicked a switch. "Good luck, Mrs. Bailey. Farmer, I'll be with Head Cap if you need anything."
Every time Janey moaned, Austin's monitors alarmed through his com. "Austin, she's doing great." Martin was the coach for both his brother and sister-in-law.
By two a.m., Janey was miserable. The contractions rolled in one on top of the next. "Ready to have this baby?" a cheery Lois asked.
Janey snapped, "I have been ready to push for the past three hours." The com hit the wall with an angry outburst directed at her husband for making her pregnant. Her mom and Fay tried to help.
Austin's alarm screamed. "Bro, she still loves you; I swear. Means the baby is close. Janey, I'm going to get my eyes off the action area and come up by your shoulder. Yell all you want."
Lois Massey gowned and gloved. "Next contraction, push from your bottom."
The pain hit too fast for Janey to respond. She was exhausted and unable to focus after pushing for an hour, combined with her lack of sleep since Austin was shot. Lois appeared worried, and Seth spoke to Martin through his com.
"Austin, chill. Janey, I don't care that you’re tired. It’s too late to change your mind. Next contraction get mad. I want you to stare at that ugly abstract art on the wall and push all the anger out. Anger at Austin for not being here and anger at the man who shot him."