by Margaret Kay
Lambchop came over and sat beside Brielle. He took her hand. “Pray with me,” he said to Brielle. “Heavenly Father, wrap your son, Brian Sherman, in your protective embrace. Bring peace to Brielle’s heart and mind, for you have Brian and will bring him through with the help of your servants, Sloan and Doc, and the capable hands of the surgical staff who will care for him. We put our faith in you and turn our worries over to you in the name of your son, Jesus Christ. Amen.”
“Amen,” Brielle echoed. She wiped her tears. “Thank you.”
A few minutes later, they arrived at the Lady of the Sea Hospital in Cut Off, the chopper landing on the grassy expanse in front of the door to the emergency room at the rear of the hospital. Lambchop and Burke carried Sherman from the bird and into the hospital.
“Federal agents,” Sloan said, holding his badge and credentials up. “I believe the Coast Guard Operations Center at Port Fourchon notified you of our arrival.”
Two women in scrubs rushed forward with a gurney. “They did. Our surgery suite is ready and waiting for your GSW.”
Brielle watched as they laid Brian onto the gurney. His face looked as pale as the white sheet beneath him.
Doc pointed to himself and Sloan. “We’re both medics. We’ll accompany you. And these two men will stand guard outside the OR.” He pointed to Burke and Lambchop.
The nurses knew those decisions were above their paygrade. “Come with us,” one of them said. “And we’ll show you where the OR waiting room is.”
Mother guided Brielle to follow them down the corridor, the gurney with Sherman lying on it, leading the way. After several turns into passageways that led them deeper within the inner hallways of the hospital, the nurses stopped at the door that read Operating Room One.
“Medical personnel and the patient only beyond this point,” one of the nurses said. She pointed across the hallway to a door. “That door leads to the surgical waiting room. It’s empty as there are no other surgeries going on right now. Your group can have it.”
“Get me the doctor or your chief administrator,” Doc demanded. “Now!”
The nurse pulled a phone from her pocket. “The GSW is at the OR. I need an administrator to interface with the federal authorities.” She listened for a few moments. “Thank you.” She disconnected the call. “Wait here. Dr. Champlain will be out soon.” Then she and the other nurse pushed the gurney with Sherman on it through the automatic doors into the operating room.
“Champlain is French, most likely Cajun descent,” Brielle said. “Let me talk with him.”
“I’ve got this,” Doc said.
A man in blue scrubs and a white lab coat approached, eyeing the armed men cautiously. “I’m Dr. Champlain, I’m told you needed to see me.”
All the members of Shepherd Security presented their badges. Doc motioned to Sloan. “The two of us are the unit’s medics. We treated him on-site and need to be in the OR with him. We’re both level one trauma certified and can assist in the OR.”
“And our protocols direct that while any threat still exists, that we will stand guard outside a treatment room when one of our own is incapacitated,” Lambchop added.
Dr. Champlain sighed out loud.
“Dr. Champlain, please,” Brielle said, stepping forward. “That’s my man in there and he trusts these men.” She pointed to Doc and Gary.
“Brielle Jarboe?” He asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“I read your Parish Blog.”
“Well stay tuned to see what went down that got my man shot. Now please, let these men into the operating room and let the others stand guard.”
Dr. Champlain nodded. “No guns in the OR.”
Doc and Sloan handed their weapons over to the others. Dr. Champlain ushered them into the operating room.
Quebec
Danny handed a coffee cup to Brielle. She hadn’t asked for it, and she didn’t recall him asking if she wanted one either. Though she would admit that her thoughts were a blur. And the longer she sat, waiting for Brian to get out of surgery, the more clouded her mind became. The moment Brian was shot replayed through her mind like a bad movie on an endless, repeating loop.
She took the cup from him. “Thank you.”
She glanced at the clock on the wall. Three hours had passed. If Brian’s wounds weren’t serious, why was it taking so long? She wanted an update from Gary or Doc. Why wasn’t someone coming to tell them what was going on?
Madison and Cooper were in the room. They’d arrived only twenty minutes before. They updated her and Danny on the activity at the BioDynamix plant after they’d left. The DEA took control of the scene. The FBI had arrested Sheriff Henderson and Deputy Downey.
So far, there was no concrete proof of any wrongdoing that led them to Stuart, the Mayor of Galliano. Madison was hopeful that there would be some evidence at either BioDynamix or at the Sheriff’s residence or his office that would implicate Stuart. Until then, he was under surveillance by the FBI. They didn’t want to approach him without evidence.
ICE was called in, as the Chinese who were housed in the trailers had no proof of citizenship or legal entry into the country. Madison had conversed with a few of the women and learned they had been abducted from various locations and forced to work here, producing the heroin laced stickers. She also learned that there had been a Chinese woman who freely came and went from the facility, who trained them. They referred to her as Madame Butterfly, because she had a butterfly tattoo on the back of her neck. They identified the driver’s license photo of Jennifer Brubaker as that woman.
It was over. After months of wondering what was really going on out at the BioDynamix facility, Brielle had her answers. Drugs, the research and development, and the mass production of heroin on stickers for easy distribution that they hoped would evade law enforcement’s detection.
Gary came through the door into the lounge, and Brielle shot to her feet when he entered. “Brian?”
“He’s fine, stable. The surgery went well. I stayed with him in recovery until he was conscious.”
“How much damage was done to his arm?” Mother asked.
“It was a through and through, didn’t hit the bone. Took out a good portion of his bicep, good thing his was so well developed. And it’s his left, shouldn’t impede him too much. Physical Therapy and then weightlifting in the gym should get him back to nearly seventy-five percent in time. He was lucky. Under his arm was just a graze. This wasn’t a career ending injury.”
Gary’s frank reporting of the bullet wound was sobering. “When can I see him?” Brielle asked.
“He’ll be brought to a room shortly. You can go in as soon as they get him settled,” Gary said. “As soon as he can be moved, we’ll bring him back to HQ and care for him there, should be less than a day.”
Brielle nodded. She still felt numb, the events of the past few hours unreal. “He wants me to stay with him.”
Mother’s lips tipped into a grin. “Don’t worry, we won’t take him anywhere without you.”
Less than an hour later, Gary and Danny brought her to the third-floor room where Brian was. Rich and Landon stood in the hall outside his door. Landon gave her a sympathetic smile and reached his hand to her shoulder. “How are you holding up?”
“I’ll be better after I can see him.” She felt new tears flood her eyes.
Doc was with Brian when they entered. Brian was propped up in a half-sitting position. He was unconscious. He still looked ghostly white. His arm was bandaged, as was the armpit area. A deep purple bruise the size of a large grapefruit was on the left side of his torso, over his ribs. Brielle couldn’t help but stare at the wounds.
“He was lucky,” Gary whispered to her. “None of the wounds were serious. He’s going to be in some pain for a few weeks, but he’ll recover fully.”
Brielle nodded again, her thoughts overwhelmed and racing. “When will he wake up?”
“He was conscious in recovery. The pain killers knocked him back out,”
Gary said. “Sleep is best for him right now.”
“Can I stay with him?”
Doc pulled the recliner in close beside the head of the bed. “Get comfortable.”
“Give me a call when he wakes up and I’ll be back,” Gary said.
Doc handed her phone to her. “Don’t contact anyone but the team.”
She nodded. Who did he think she’d contact?
“And let us know if you need anything,” Doc added. “Lambchop and Handsome will remain on guard in the hall.”
Brielle watched the two men pass through the door, leaving her alone with Brian. She took a seat in the recliner and held Brian’s hand. Soon, though, she got antsy and stood. She wanted to hold him. It would be a tight squeeze, but she would fit on the edge of the mattress on the right side of the bed, far from his wounds.
Carefully, she crawled up into the bed with Brian. She wrapped her arm around his waist and gently rested her head on his chest. Her eyes scanned his resting face. His eyes were still closed. He looked peaceful. Then her eyes went to his bandaged bicep. She still couldn’t believe he’d been shot. If he hadn’t pushed her down, it could have been her. That thought made her shudder.
“I like waking up to find you in bed with me,” Brian’s weak voice said.
She angled her head up to look into his face. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been shot a couple of times.”
“You were.”
Sherman saw the moisture in Brielle’s eyes. “Hey, no tears. I’m okay.”
“Do you hurt?”
“No, they have me on some good pain killers.” He glanced at his bandaged left bicep. “How bad is the damage to my arm?”
“Gary said it was not a career ending injury.”
“Crawl up here and give me a kiss.”
Even though Brielle moved very carefully, her shifting the bed caused him to wince. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, her head hovering over his.
“Don’t be, just kiss me, baby.”
Brielle pressed a kiss to his lips. When she pulled her lips away, she beamed a beautiful smile at him that filled his heart.
“That’s my girl,” Sherman said.
“I was so afraid, watching Gary and Doc work on you, and while you were in surgery.”
“I’m fine,” he said.
“I was afraid I was going to lose you.”
A smile tugged at Sherman’s lips. “You mean a lot to me too. Can you live with this?”
“With you doing this job?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s what you do, who you are, Brian.” She nodded her head. “Yeah, I can live with this.” She embraced him and held him.
“Good, because I’ve fallen in love with you, Miss Brielle Jarboe, and I don’t ever want for you to not be in my life.”
Her tears spilled onto her cheeks. “I feel the same. I don’t want to ever lose you.”
“Did the team get them?”
“Yes, and the regular DEA moved in and took over. Sheriff Henderson and Deputy Downey were arrested by the FBI.”
Sherman nodded. “Good. Almost makes getting shot worth it.”
Brielle shook her head. “You’re crazy.” She pressed her lips against his, gifting him with another passionate kiss.
“Crazy about you, momma,” Sherman said when she pulled her lips away. He stared into her eyes and was thoughtful for a few moments. “I am, you know, crazy about you.” A smile came to Brielle’s face that made her glow. Sherman was pleased that his words brought about that reaction. “Have you started to write your piece on it yet?”
“No, I’ve been too worried about you.”
“I’m fine. Have Mother or Lambchop get you into my tablet and use it to write your story. This is your big chance.”
“Brian, you could have died. I had to be sure you were okay, couldn’t even think about writing anything while you were in surgery. And I’ve been here with you since they brought you to your room.”
“You agreed to move north with me.”
A smile spread over Brielle’s face that made Sherman smile too. She had a beautiful smile and all he wanted was to see it on her face every day for the rest of his life.
“I did,” she agreed.
“Don’t you renege on that.”
She giggled. “I don’t plan to. You’re stuck with me.”
“I like that,” Sherman said.
Twelve hours later, Brielle watched as Landon helped Brian mount the stairs into the Lear. Brian was very stiff, very sore. Thanks to the bulletproof vest, he suffered only two bruised ribs beneath, but he ached with every movement he made, with every breath he drew in.
“He’s going to be just fine, or he wouldn’t be out of the hospital,” Doc said.
Brielle made eye contact with him. “Did I look worried?”
Doc shook his head. “Honey, we all know you are, but don’t be. We’ve got him. We take care of our own.”
“His ribs hurt bad,” she remarked aloud.
“I know and they will for about a week or two,” Doc agreed.
“Taking a bullet to the vest feels like getting kicked by a horse,” Madison said, appearing beside them. “I took one to the vest last year. Besides the big, angry purple bruise, that hurt just to have clothing touch it, the pain every time I sucked in a breath was crazy.”
Brielle’s eyes met hers. “You’ve been shot?”
Madison nodded. “Last year. Hurt like a bitch and it didn’t even hit my ribs.” She massaged her stomach, dead center, about an inch or two above her navel. “Sherman will hurt for a few weeks, but then he’ll be fine,” she said dismissively.
Brielle nodded. Madison motioned for her to board the plane. She climbed the few stairs, still numb from it all. She made her way aft, to the seat where Gary was helping Brian get settled.
“You’ll be more comfortable reclined,” Sloan said.
“Let me just catch my breath before you move me again,” Sherman argued. He sat rigid, with his head pressed against the headrest.
Brielle watched as Gary fastened Brian’s seat belt. It was obvious to her that Brian hated him fussing over him.
“I’ll help you recline when you want to,” Gary said. “And remember, try to suck in some deep breaths every minute or two or we’ll be treating you for pneumonia.”
“I got it,” Sherman moaned.
Gary moved away and Brielle took the seat beside Brian. She took hold of his hand. “I hope this flight won’t cause you too much pain.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said dismissively.
Brielle leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek. Then she fastened her own seat belt. She took hold of his hand again and didn’t let go of it for the length of the flight. The flight went fast with little turbulence, which meant little jostling of Brian. Soon, the plane descended through the cloudy fall sky above the Chicago Executive Airport.
The landing brought about winces and groans from Brian. She could see the pain across his face. She couldn’t wait to get him home and help him into bed. She’d take good care of him.
Once parked within the Shepherd Security Hangar, Lambchop pulled Sherman to his feet and then helped him off the plane. He led him over to one of the SUV’s and assisted him to ease into the backseat. Brielle joined him, sliding in from the other side of the vehicle.
They drove to the Shepherd Security Building. Brielle got onto the elevator with Brian while the others unloaded the vehicles. Landon and Danny guaranteed Brian that they’d stow his gear for him. They rode the elevator to the fifth floor.
Shepherd’s office door was open. They entered. Shepherd, Garcia, and Jackson were there. She watched the men greet Brian with handshakes, gentle shoulder bumps, and hugs. Shepherd presented his hand to Brian, a frown curving his lips. “I’m glad it wasn’t worse.”
“Thanks, Shep. I’ll be fine.” He shook Shepherd’s hand.
“Take as long as you need to recover. You’ll be on limited duty in the office when you feel u
p to it. Don’t push it. Your recovery comes first,” Shepherd said.
“Let me help you take a seat,” Garcia said. “I know how much those ribs hurt. You need to take it easy for a week or two.”
Brielle watched Garcia gently lower Brian into a chair. “Should I stay?” She asked Shepherd. He still intimidated her.