by Laura Acton
Winds stared down at Ripsaw. He enjoyed joking around with him, and it pained him to see him in this condition. “Won’t the antibiotics you have work?”
“I have no idea. I chose a broad spectrum one, but without facilities to determine the type of bacterium, what he is getting might be as helpful as water,” Patch ended sarcastically.
“We need to exfil him fast, don’t we?”
“Yeah.” Patch savored several sips before he rose. His next patient waited. The second round of dialysate was ready to be drained.
Brody moved from the chair to allow Patch to sit and went to the table to grab a glass of water. He stretched his aching muscles. He would never complain, but the constant care of Danny left him a tad sore. He sat on the bench and glanced at Mike who was kicked back against the wall with his eyes closed, yet he knew him to be awake.
Part of him still didn’t trust Mike … he was too close to the enemy being General Broderick’s lead security man. Out of left field, his tired brain conjured the image of Mrs. Broderick’s bruised face and splinted wrist. Though perhaps the night’s activities were the source of his disjointed thoughts. On the drive from the warehouse to the abbey, Ripsaw attempted to distract Blondie by telling him about Natia. How their actions tonight released many people held in that club against their will.
His thoughts shifted again, putting together things Mike told Danny, what Mason reported occurring in the vetting room, the way Panin behaved towards Mike, and Galloway’s reaction to Panin remaining alive. Brody realized Mike must’ve been held or sold by Panin at some point. His jumbled thoughts mixed and he wondered if Mike was aware the general abused his wife and if he condoned the action.
The idea of General Badass striking his spouse still bothered him. Although Danny indicated he didn’t believe his father hit his mother, he once shared a memory of the general beating him when he was eleven because he failed to perform adequately on the range. After the beating, Danny ran away but was found and dragged back to the Yukon base after he sprained his ankle.
That memory came out the night they got drunk after responding to a domestic abuse call during their time as MPs at CFB Petawawa. The triple murder-suicide, finding the two children and their mother lying like broken marionettes, and the body of the lieutenant with a self-inflicted bullet to his brain dredged up so many painful memories for both of them.
Unfortunately, Brody knew about domestic violence … all too well. His mom became skilled at hiding her bruises and crafting stories to cover for injuries. Sometimes he speculated why she didn’t take him and leave. Brody wished he could ask her why she stayed. One answer he would never discover the truth about since both parents were dead.
Pushing recollections of his childhood away, Brody reined in his negative and disjointed thoughts, consciously channeling them into a positive vein as he stood and went for Blondie’s pants he wore to the Cherry Club. Aware they needed to burn them along with all other biological trace items, he needed to retrieve Beauty from the slack’s pocket, then use his time constructively to build a playlist for Danny to listen to when he woke. Something to soothe him and lessen the pain. After getting Beauty, Brody sat on the bunk next to Danny.
Patch attempted to attach the discard bag to the junction catheter, but in his tired state he fumbled and dropped the bag. “Mason, I need a new one and another antiseptic wipe.” As he waited, a sleep-deprived Patch clasped his hands and squeezed, ticked at himself for his clumsiness.
Crawling on the tundra, shivering as he sought refuge from the cold, his sprained ankle shooting pains up his leg, Dan cried out for his dad. The howling wolf pursuing him scared him to death. His father would protect and save him from the predator if he came back in time.
Hunger pangs seized his tummy as he discovered a concrete wall. His bloody knees and hands hurt from crawling. Locating an entry into the crumbling building, he kept going until he found a tiny room and wedged his body into the corner on top of the rubble. As pain lanced his belly again, he curled up and cried.
His world shifted, and the frozen wasteland turned into scorching desert. The sounds of the wolf morphed into malevolent laughter and fire engulfed his entire body, yet the inferno centered in his gut. Lying on a table with his legs and arms tied spread-eagle, sharp stabbing pains as red-hot needles drilled into his abdomen caused him to shriek and cry, begging to be released from hell.
“Stop. Let me die. No more. I want to die!” Dan screamed startling everyone in the room. He blinked open his eyes and saw a burning needle poking out of his stomach. It hurt so much, searing him to the core. Dan reached for the needle, needing to yank it out.
“Blondie, no!” Patch reacted instantly, grabbing to restrain his hand before he succeeded in pulling out the dialysis catheter.
Dan’s eyes lit on The One. Surprised to find his arms untied, he lashed out with all the power he possessed, striking the menacing entity with his fist, “Die you sadistic bastard!”
Knocked to the floor by the forceful and unexpected blow to his jaw, Patch blinked away stars as Brody and Mason rushed to the bed.
Struggling against Grape Man and Traitor as they held him down, preventing him from pulling out the painful needle, Dan roared, “Noooo! I’m gonna kill you all. You’re dead. Hear me? Dead!”
Mason pinned Blondie’s arms to the mattress to stop him from touching the abdominal catheter. Unable to maintain a proper hold on Blondie as he bucked and twisted, he yelled. “Patch, sedate him!”
While Patch scrambled to his feet to ready a syringe, Winds raced to retrieve the sedative and met him halfway. With a steady hand, Patch drew up the dosage as Winds chanted, “Come on, hurry,” then hustled to assist trapping Blondie’s legs, only achieving a grip on one as the other kicked out.
“Stop, Danny. Please stop. You are not there. You’re safe. Not there,” Brody kept reiterating as he attempted to cut through the panic to reach his brother before he hurt himself more as he held down Danny’s shoulders.
The commotion woke Blaze from a sound sleep. He dashed over to help restrain the kid but arrived too late to prevent the Foley catheter from ripping out as Blondie flailed.
“Arrrggghh!” burst forth from Dan as the urinary tubing tore from his sensitive organ, leaving a trail of blood and mucus.
Blaze captured the other leg as Patch pushed the medication into the IV port. Blondie’s piercing screams bounced off the walls of the room, ringing in everyone’s ears. Brody never stopped his litany of pleading as they all held Dan, preventing him from causing further harm to himself.
The thrashing and yells ebbed as the sedation took effect. Dan’s eyes cleared for a moment, locking on Brody’s tear-filled eyes. Dan begged, “Brody, don’t leave me here all alone. Save me.”
“You’re with me, brother. I’m here. All your brothers are here. You are safe,” Brody’s choked up voice said.
As his eyes flickered shut, Dan whispered, “Stay. Don’t go, Brody.”
When Dan’s body went limp, they all released their holds. Brody’s moisture-filled eyes turned to Patch. “I don’t want to further his injuries, so if you tell me no, I’ll understand, but can I hold him? He needs to know I’m here.”
Unable to vocalize his consent for fear of his voice breaking, Patch only nodded as he strove to return to medic mode and assess Blondie for injuries.
Mason swiped at his eyes before he cautiously lifted Blondie. “Slide in behind, and we’ll situate him like we did the first time he ate oatmeal.”
Brody positioned himself against the wall, straddling the bed then received Danny in his arms as Mason gently lowered him. He stroked Danny’s hair as he spoke in a soft tone. “I’m not going anywhere, Danny. You’re stuck with me forever.” His volume dropped even lower as he continued to speak, hoping Danny’s subconscious would recognize he was not alone.
Winds turned, swiping across his own wet eyes to find Anastasia with tears streaming down her cheeks, Mike’s features set in grim lines, and Dom with his he
ad bowed and one hand over his mouth. He read shock on each one of them. A Blondie nightmare such as this was difficult to view, even someone with the hardest of hearts would be moved.
Noticing the blood on Blondie’s leg, Blaze placed a hand on Patch’s shoulder. “What do you need?”
“Several gauze pads and saline.”
Blaze retrieved and handed over the requested items. “Did he do any permanent damage?”
“Not sure yet. Traumatic dislodgement can create problems. If the bleeding stops on its own things should be alright. Since there isn’t an obstruction causing no urine, I’m not going to insert a new one.”
Dom regained control of his emotions which had plummeted to the depths of hell observing William’s son fight demons from his captivity. The intensity of this far exceeded what he witnessed in the hotel room. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Knowing Patch would have the medical arena covered, Blaze turned to Dom. “How about we give Patch and Brody a few minutes alone to square away Blondie.”
Dom nodded. “Are there any supplies Patch needs? I planned to go out and procure clothing for my daughters, now seems the right time if someone will keep an eye on Nicolette and Anna-Marie.”
“I’ve got everything I need at the moment,” Patch answered.
“I’ll watch your girls,” Mason said.
“You shouldn’t go alone,” Blaze stated.
“I’ll go with Dom. Let me grab a hat and change shirts,” Anastasia responded as she wiped away the tears. As she pulled off the black shirt to don the one she wore the night she met the unit on the tarmac in Kandahar, her heart shattered for Dan. This nightmare was far worse than the one she witnessed two days ago. With the previous one, he only whimpered a little before he lashed out and he regained awareness of his surroundings rather rapidly. This one … the pain and anguish of his captivity were on full display.
She understood nightmares, suffering from them for years after Tyson attacked her and killed their son. Though she often woke screaming and drenched in sweat, she never experienced anything remotely like this.
As Anastasia pulled on a ball cap, she scanned Blaze’s men, noting their pain but also how they behaved as if nothing out of the ordinary occurred. Amazing how they came together, rushing to help, almost like a well-rehearsed dance. Sadly, she realized it was a practiced motion which meant Dan suffered ungodly nightmares often. Her admiration of this group of men grew. They shared a bond of brotherhood which would never be broken.
Needing time and distance to process his emotions after witnessing Dan’s torment, the scope of which now dimmed the humiliation and pain he suffered at Panin’s hands, Mike gruffly offered, “I will go too. I’ll recon and gather intel on how much effort is being put into finding Dan and Mason.”
Blaze nodded, and the three left. He turned to Winds and said, “How about we round up dinner?” Getting a nod, they also exited the room.
Sacred Heart Abbey – Storage Room
Blaze halted and placed a hand on Winds’ shoulder. “We need to talk.”
“Yeah, we do. I’m sorry.” Winds blew out a breath.
“No. I’m the one who is sorry.”
Winds shook his head. “My mouth … I spewed crap … intentionally, to provoke a rise out of you.”
“As was necessary. I appreciate you keeping me honest and focused on the right path when I tend to be too rigid and have blinders on.”
“I went too far.” Winds eyes sought forgiveness.
“And I haven’t?” Blaze squeezed the back of Winds’ neck. “You remember that night about six years ago when we were at the Last Glass Brewery?”
“Yeah, what of it?”
“I razzed you mercilessly along with the rest of the guys when you backed out of the bet to kiss the waitress Gambit picked out. I—”
“Not the same thing. You didn’t know she was my Sally and I wasn’t about to tell the others.”
Blaze’s eyes saddened as he recalled egging Winds on, never realizing she was Winds’ high-school girlfriend and ex-fiancee who ripped his heart out, dumping him when he joined the Army. “No, I didn’t, but I should’ve realized something was wrong and stopped.”
“I never held what you said against you. You all were three sheets to the wind.”
“Wrong. I was sober enough to drive home. I should’ve treated you better.” Blaze halted as Winds smirked. “What?”
“You didn’t drive yourself home.” Winds chuckled.
“Yes, I did. I distinctly remember gripping the steering wheel.”
Winds snorted. “Nope. You held on to the paper plate I gave you as you sat in the passenger seat and made vroom sounds.” Winds burst out laughing at Blaze’s astonishment. “Daphy helped me put your drunk ass to bed and we had a helluva time prying the plate from your hands as you tried to steer your bed claiming you were about to win the race.”
Blaze broke out in a grin. “Damn, that explains why Daphy laughed for a week and only used paper plates for meals. She never did explain why … I thought she was just acting weird.”
Winds stopped laughing. “We good?”
“Yeah, we’re good. Thanks for pulling my head out of my ass. Blondie would be suffering a hell of a lot more without sedation.”
Nodding Winds said, “Shall we round up grub for everyone? I’m starving.”
The air cleared, bonds tested and true, reaffirmed best friends and brothers strode out of the room together to find the kitchen.
Truth and Lies in the News
47
May 29
Turka Café – 1855 Hours
Tucked into a booth which allowed him a view of the men’s clothing store Anastasia and Dom presently shopped in, Mike lifted his tiny cup of Turkish coffee, taking a sip as he spread out the newspaper on the table. After locating appropriate clothing for his daughters, Dom insisted on purchasing items for Dan and Ripsaw. Both had their jeans from when they started the mission, but Savoy believed both required more comfortable pants for exfil.
Mike conceded with Ripsaw’s leg wound and the catheter in Dan’s stomach that sweatpants would be more suitable. He scanned the outside of the restaurant before he returned his gaze to the local newspaper. Plastered on the front page was a picture of the real Maksim Gennadiyevich and a sketch of Mason labeled unknown suspect.
The article claimed the federal law enforcement agency issued arrest warrants for a mass shooting at a local nightclub, resulting in the death of an unreported number of people. The politsia instructed if citizens spotted the armed and dangerous men not to approach them and to contact authorities without delay. Mike found it odd that neither he nor Anastasia had been indicated as being involved. Savelievich was not a stupid man, he must know by now they and all the minors escaped and put two-and-two together.
Flagging the waitress, Mike ordered two more coffees as he noted Dom and Anastasia exiting the shop. A few minutes later, both coffee and cohorts arrived at the booth.
Sliding in first, Anastasia glanced at the beverage. Speaking French to keep their chat private, she said, “Mmm, I love Türk kahvesi. The grounds are often used for fortune-telling.” Noticing the front page, she choked on her sip. “Oh no. We don’t need an oracle to tell us moving day will be difficult.”
Dom turned the paper to him and read as Mike said, “No mention of lost lambs or the other three shepherds. Something doesn’t sit right.”
“I agree,” Dom said as his mind churned in several directions. “Though, Warg would cover up the missing lambs to avoid exposure by explaining their presence. The shepherds, however, are another matter.”
“Makes me believe Warg left the country,” Anastasia said using the code name for Panin they agreed upon while traveling to the first store. Panin’s last name, size, and nature fit a Warg … a huge, evil wolf in Norse mythology.
“Why?” Mike asked.
“With so many sheep turned out to pasture, at least a few who fled are likely to be found, and the fact Warg
feasted on them will come to light.” Anastasia glanced at the menu and said, “Speaking of repast, I’m famished. We should eat here and perhaps take some back for the boys. The sweet ladies have been more than accommodating.”
Dom smiled. “They will be compensated. As one of the recipients of the dispersed assets, they’ll receive funds necessary to continue their work.”
His mind focusing on wanting to rid the world of Savelievich, Mike said, “Where do you think Warg scurried off to?”
“All in due time, here and now, is neither the time nor place. We must address more important matters. I refuse to allow William’s son or any of you to suffer consequences. Danny wouldn’t do well caged up after what we witnessed.” Anastasia’s eagle eye conveyed to Dom he slipped, and her words confirmed his rare blunder proving to himself he was more rattled than ever.
“You share a personal relationship with his father, don’t you?”
Mike sat back waiting for Dom to answer wondering if he would confirm her suspicion.
Turning to Anastasia, Dom took her hand and spoke in a sincere tone. “Yes, but you cannot inform the others. It is imperative my link remain unknown. We enjoy a long friendship, and I am godfather to his daughter. Blondie doesn’t recall meeting me, and his ignorance must persist for now.”
“Why?”
“The situation is complicated and not my business to disclose. Please, for his sake, do not remind him I am acquainted with the Oracle. I fear it will be detrimental, and he is dealing with more than enough issues at the moment.” Dom’s eyes beseeched her to agree with his minimal explanation.
Anastasia pinned Mike with astute eyes. “You knew, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” Mike didn’t need to say more as he steadily held her gaze.
“You’re aware of the reason too.” When Mike nodded, Anastasia assessed what she perceived about each man. She determined it was not her place to reveal the association, and it appeared both men acted out of concern for Dan’s well-being. “Alright. I’ll keep quiet, but if you hurt—” Anastasia started.
