by Misty Evans
At one point, several hours in, Jax felt a hand on his. He glanced up to find Beatrice had taken up residence in a chair next to him. Cal, looking fit to be tied, was on the other side of her.
“What are you doing here?” Jax asked, his voice raw.
“You’re family, Jaxon.” Beatrice smiled. “Where else would I be?”
Those bloody hot tears filled his eyes again and he looked away from her knowing face. “You should be headed back to DC. That baby’s bound to come soon.”
“I’m in an award-winning hospital sitting next to a doctor who saved two people in the same number of days. If this baby comes, he comes. So be it. We’re both in good hands.”
“She,” Cal corrected. “We’re having a girl.”
Jax wiped his eyes with the palm of his hand. “I’m not delivering your baby, boss. And with Ruby, as well as Elliot, I may have violated the Hippocratic Oath.”
“What part would that be?” she said watching the closest screen as the men and women in blue scrubs circled around their patient. “It is a common misconception that the oath states ‘first, do no harm’,” she continued. “although I believe that to be construed in all versions, from the original to the modern ones used in US medical schools today. However, correct me if I’m wrong—and I’m not—most oaths contain this statement: I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon’s knife or the chemist’s drug. You certainly have shown sympathy and understanding when it has come to the care given Agents Hayden and McKellen. The CIA, and Shadow Force International, owe you a great debt.”
He’d never actually taken the oath, but of course, Beatrice knew it by heart.
Somewhere deep within Jax, a little voice told him he should go back, finish his residency, and take that oath. He’d always wanted to be a doctor. A part of him still did.
But Beatrice was wrong. Sympathy and understanding weren’t going to save anyone’s life. “I screwed up big time. I nearly got our client killed, and you along with her.”
This time it was Cal who spoke up, leaning around Beatrice to look at Jax. “Bullshit,” he said in a low voice. “You did exactly what any of us would have done. We’re the best damn operatives in the business, but once in awhile, some asshole can still trick us or outmaneuver us. No one in the CIA, NSA, or the Department of Defense had a clue that Al-Safari faked his own death. What makes you think you should have figured it out?”
Because I was there when we picked him up. He’d taken Hayden’s word for it, the damn Moroccan intelligence group’s word for it, that the man they had arrested was Abdel Al-Safari.
“Even I didn’t see that one coming,” Hunter agreed behind Jax’s right shoulder.
Beatrice looked at Jax as if that confirmed it.
Maybe it did.
Cal was right. The SFI team was the best in the business. Beatrice was a genius. Hunter, a superhuman soldier. Emit, the man who supplied them with every high tech gadget he could create, including his own software programs the military and intelligence services around the world would kill to have. The men who worked for SFI, like Cal, were all former SEALs. The best of the best.
The kind of experts that Mohammed Izala liked to collect.
Only all of the SFI team members worked together because they wanted to, not because some asshole held them prisoner and tortured them.
Jax glanced over his shoulder at Emit, who sat behind him. “You still want me on board, even after I turned this assignment into a goatfuck?”
Emit chewed on a Twizzler, seemed to consider the question carefully, and for a second, Jax’s gut went south.
Then Beatrice gave Emit a look that made the man stop chewing and sit up straighter.
“You apprehended Elliot Hayden and cleared him of wrongdoing.” Bite, chew. “You saved Agent McKellen’s life, and stopped two major terrorists who found a way into our country from kidnapping her. The CIA is turning cartwheels, and her boss told Beatrice he plans to take Ruby back into Langley’s folds and prime her for an officer’s job.”
Another bite and a chew. “She’ll be running her own squad of operatives when she goes back into the field is my guess, and I just received a message from my contact at Justice—they’re reopening Elliot’s case, by the way, and he’ll probably be cleared of all charges. My contact’s been in a meeting with the president along with the heads of the Agency, the Bureau, and Homeland for the past hour, and guess what? The president reamed them all a new one for failing so badly at finding Commander Pierce and keeping scum like Al-Safari and Izala out of America. There’s an investigation into Homeland already—Elliot will need to help them root out the traitor—and, oh yeah, the president is awarding you a Medal of Honor for extraordinary heroism.”
“What?” Jax had to grab onto the arm rests. “I’m not even in the Navy anymore.”
As if that was the real reason for his argument. They all shot him confused looks.
“I mean, that’s ridiculous,” he continued. Ruby still wasn’t out of the woods and he’d created a mess at the airport, then fled the scene. “I’m no hero.”
Hunter snickered. “The president can do whatever he wants. Trust me, I know from past experience with the previous guy who sat in the Oval.”
“Jaxon.” Beatrice rarely showed irritation, but it was obvious in her voice and the look she gave him. “I only hire heroes. The cream of the crop. You know that.”
He started to argue—this was all surreal—but she shut him down with an arched brow and a feisty light in her eyes. “You will report for duty as usual tomorrow morning. Don’t even think about not coming back to SFI.”
He knew when he was beaten. There was a lot for them to talk about, but maybe right here, right now wasn’t the place. “I’m still not delivering your baby,” he said, only half teasing.
“Fine,” she said, and he heard a note in her voice that told him she was really thinking, we’ll see about that.
“And I’m going to need a day or two off to recoup,” he added.
She narrowed her eyes, understanding that what he was really saying was, I need to stay with Ruby until she’s okay. “I suppose you’ve earned a few days off after this latest mission.”
“Thanks.” He had to swallow hard around the lump in his throat. “Thanks also for everything you’ve done for me. Ruby, too.”
Her only response was to squeeze his hand.
The door to the viewing balcony opened and James stepped inside. In a lowered voice, he said to Beatrice, “Ms. McKellen’s parents are here.”
“Thank you, James.” She started to rise, and Jax grabbed her hand.
“I can talk to them if you need me too.”
Emit jumped up, putting a hand on Beatrice’s shoulder to keep her in her seat. “I’ll handle this. You two stay put.”
Beatrice nodded. “Agent McKellen’s boss at the CIA has already explained most of what happened to them. It came as a shock of course, since they didn’t realize she was an undercover agent.”
“No problem,” Emit said, following after James. “I’ve got this.”
Jax sat back and rubbed his tired eyes. “Do I still need to talk to the authorities about what went down at the airport?”
“Yes,” Beatrice said. “I’ve given them the details about your hunt for Agent Hayden and then for Al-Safari, but they’ll want full accounts from you and Agent McKellen, once she’s able.”
The next few days were going to be long and tedious, but Jax didn’t care as long as Ruby came out of this all right. “SFI could use a doctor on staff, don’t you think?”
He was staring through the glass, looking down on the surgeons who appeared to be wrapping things up. The heart monitor beat a solid, steady rhythm. The anesthesiologist was backing off the sedation into Ruby’s IV. One of the nurses turned and gave Jax a thumbs-up signal.
The tightness that had wrapped itself around his chest for the past several hours loosened.
He waited for Beatrice’s response.
He glanced at her faint reflection in the glass, saw one side of her mouth quirked up in a smile she was trying hard to suppress. About Ruby or about his subtle hint?
“Actually, I was thinking the same thing myself,” she said quietly, and the suppressed smile broke free.
Chapter Twenty-six
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RUBY WOKE WITH the lyrics to Stayin’ Alive by the Bee Gees running through her muddled brain. A muted beeping came from her right, keeping time with the beat.
Stayin’ Alive. Really?
Her body seemed too light, too not there. For a moment, she wondered if she’d died and gone straight to some sort of disco hell where 70’s music repeated in a never-ending track. Scared to open her eyes and find herself with a flashing neon ball spinning over her head, she tried moving her fingers instead.
Softness met the tips of her fingers, the sensation familiar. Stretching a bit farther, she probed. Yep, if this was disco hell, Jax was here with her. She’d know the feel of his short, silky hair anywhere.
As always, the thought of him increased her pulse, the beeping noise accelerating. With the escalation of her pulse, a flood of images entered her mind. Most made no sense.
At least not to her brain. Her body, though, responded. Sensation returned to her limbs in a rush. Her pulse jumped again, sending the monitor nearby dancing even faster.
With the return of sensation, she realized one leg felt extraordinarily heavy. Cracking her eyelids open, she saw a blanket over her chest, an IV line in one arm.
Jax’s head on her thigh.
His deep slumber reassured her and she glanced around at the foreign room. She was in a hospital bed, the blinds drawn, a couch nearby.
No Al-Safari. No plane.
Just Jax. He’d fallen asleep on her leg, one hand on her stomach, the other across her thigh.
She tried to remember what had happened, sorting through the fuzziness and chaos in her mind. Snatches of a car ride came back to her. Al-Safari, a plane…
Combing through the mess made her head throb. Her stomach lurched at the sudden gut memory of falling from the sky. A crash.
Izala.
Her breath caught at the memory of his cruel smile. The black end of his gun barrel.
He wants Jax.
She blinked her eyes, took a faulty breath. Her ribs rebelled, but they seemed to be confined.
Keeping one hand on Jax, she used the free one to lift the covers from her chest. Her shoulder injury fired at the movement, a trickle of pain, a lack of mobility. Under the hospital gown, she could see a ridge around her ribs where a bandage supported them.
She glanced over at her shoulder. Lifting her free hand, she probed the side of her neck, found another bandage there.
Shit, I’m a mess.
Her neck, her shoulder, her ribs. As she concentrated on breathing, the images flipping through her brain slowed somewhat, untangled.
She clung to the two most important ones.
Jax has saved her.
Izala was dead.
Her mouth was dry and her throat sore. Probably from the drugs they were pumping into her system to keep the worst of the pain at bay. “Ja…Ja…”
The x’s at the end of his name were lost. Her tongue would not form the necessary sss sound.
His breathing didn’t alter. Finally she pulled a strand of his hair.
“Ow!” He jerked awake, sitting straight up and swearing. “What the…?”
The curse died on his lips as he saw her smiling at him.
“Hello, beautiful,” he said, grabbing her hand and kissing her knuckles. “How you feelin’?”
“Weird,” she croaked.
He released her hand and grabbed a cup of water off the tray nearby. “Drink this. It’ll help.”
She did and it was the best damn water she’d ever had. A few more sips and her tongue worked again. “My head’s in a fog and my body is really stiff.”
“Not surprising after you survived a plane crash, poisoning, and two bullet wounds.”
“Poisoning?”
“Yep.” He grinned as he took her empty cup. “You poisoned yourself with that syringe in your pocket, sweetheart.”
“Oh, jeez,” she said and they both laughed. His was loose, hers was short, the bandage keeping her in check.
“Only you,” he said and his laughter grew.
She knew it was part relief. Her chuckle grew a little bigger too. Jax laughing so unrestrained was rare and she enjoyed the moment. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“Nope.”
She laughed harder, her ribs protesting, but it felt good. Cathartic. Tears ran out of the corners of her eyes. When she could finally breathe again, she asked, “How did you save me from that?”
“The doctors did that,” he said, wiping a few tears from his own eyes. “I just got you here.”
She had the feeling there was more to it than that. “I scared the living hell out of you, didn’t I?”
His face sobered. He squeezed her hand. “You ever do that to me again, and I’ll…”
“Kill me?” She grinned.
He grinned back. “Something like that.”
They stared at each other for a moment, so many things passing between them.
Jax pulled back. “I better get the nurse.”
“Wait.” She held onto him.
“Your parents are here. They’re anxious to see you.”
Her parents. That was good and bad. She’d be happy to see them, but not to explain what had happened.
She still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened. “Not yet. Just…wait.”
He sat back down in the chair he’d fallen asleep in. “Your prognosis is good. You’ll be back in the field in no time.”
She didn’t even want to think about going back in the field. “Izala’s dead, right?”
“I sort of blew him up. Or God did. Depends on your perspective.”
More to that part of the story as well. “I’m good either way, as long as he can never hurt anyone else. He wanted to add you to his collection. Just like me. I was a trap to get to you. He said he had diplomatic friends who helped get him into the country, a tie to Homeland as well. We should get my boss on it.”
“Always the spy.” Jax shook his head. “After all you’ve just been through, that’s what you want to talk about?”
“Did they find Commander Pierce?”
He rolled his eyes, but answered her. “Izala’s men are scrambling without him and Al-Safari. It’s rumored one of the other Moroccan 5 is trying to take over, but our team found a deserter and he’s talking. They’ve pinpointed the Commander’s whereabouts. He should be home by 0800 tomorrow.”
What a relief. “And Beatrice and the others? They’re okay, too? Elliot?”
“They’re all fine. Elliot’s recovering well at the clinic, Dan’s expected to get out of the hospital tomorrow and Zeb’s taking care of Woodstock. Elliot’s being cleared of the traitor charges as we speak. Beatrice and Cal are on their way back to DC. Her midwife mentioned she knew a way to stimulate labor by pressing a spot on the bottom of Beatrice’s foot. Sounds wacko to me, but Beatrice was all over that.”
“Wow. Is that possible?”
“Hunter said he’d heard about the technique, so who knows? He’s going back with her and Cal. Can’t hurt to try some nontraditional medicine at this point, I guess.”
“You’re a good doctor, Jaxon Sloan.”
“I will be.” He let out a deep sigh. “Possibly. In the future.”
She lifted a brow. “You’re going back into medicine?”
He shrugged. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“You.”
“Me?”
“Yep.” He nodded. “If you’re going back into the spy business, then I’m signing up to be your bodyguard. Permanently.
You know, if you’ll have me. With Hayden out of commission, you can’t go tromping off all over the world without someone to save your ass.”
“Hey, I’ll have you know I did a fine job of taking care of myself…”
He held up a hand. “You poisoned yourself on this last go around, hotshot, after you were taken hostage by a known terrorist.”
He had her there.
“You may be the Agency’s top spy, but that’s because you take too many risks. Your luck was bound to run out. You go back to it, fine, but I’m going with you, one way or another. I’ll have Beatrice contract me out.”
She was far from the CIA’s top agent anymore. Maybe Timms and the FBI would find a spot for her working counterterrorism.
The thought of working for Timms sent a shudder through her.
Maybe she’d tackle something new. She had plenty of field experience, she could train operatives, or even recruit new ones to the Colonel’s secret army—if he was still speaking to her.
She had a lot to think about. It appeared Jax had been doing some thinking about this future too. “I’m not going back in the field for a while. Maybe never. I don’t know yet.”
“I’ve heard through the company grapevine that the Colonel has some plans for you that I think you’ll like. I just want to clarify that I support whatever you decide. As long as I’m in the picture.”
Well, wasn’t that interesting? Both that her boss was making plans for her and that Jax wanted to be in her world, no matter what those plans were.
“Let’s get back to you,” she said. “You’ve got the itch for medicine again, for real?”
“Well…here’s the deal. I want to be wherever you are. But, yeah, I want to finish my education and get licensed. It won’t take much, Beatrice already looked into it. But you come first, Ruby.”
Was he saying what she thought he was saying? “I’m not sure I understand.”
“I’m pretty sure you do.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Spell it out for me, big guy. I want to hear the words.”