by Laura Acton
Patch grabbed his thermometer and inserted into Ripsaw’s mouth. “How long has he been restless?”
“Just started. He was quiet until a moment ago,” Winds uttered.
“When it beeps take it out for me. I’m going to examine his wound again.” Patch pulled on clean gloves and set to work not liking what he found.
At the beeping, Winds removed the thermometer. “One hundred four point three.”
“This isn’t good. This is the fourth time I’ve cleaned the wound. Full blown sepsis is around the corner if he doesn’t receive the right antibiotics.” Patch poured more peroxide in the pus oozing wound, and it bubbled, but Ripsaw didn’t even flinch.
When he finished, Patch administered more fever reducer and sat back on his heels. “Blaze, we gotta get him to a hospital soon.”
As he bathed Ripsaw’s face, Blaze said, “Dom has an idea. Do I need to wake him now to discuss?”
Checking the time, Patch inquired, “When did he return?”
“A few minutes ago. You might have two other patients. Anastasia supported some nasty bruising on her face, and Mike was coughing. When they torched Panin’s club, he may have inhaled smoke.”
Patch’s eyes rounded. “They burned down the club?”
Winds nodded. “D.A.M. covered our asses.”
“Dam?” Patch questioned.
“Short for Dom, Anastasia, Mike.” Winds swiveled his head to the door as Mike and Anastasia walked in sporting their natural blond shades of hair. For the second time tonight, he became speechless, but only for a moment. “Where did your brown hair and bruises go?”
A tired smile covered Anastasia’s face. “The wonders of makeup and temporary hair-coloring. One shower and I’m myself again.” When Mike coughed, she requested, “Patch, can you examine Mike? He ate some smoke when he carried out an unconscious police officer.”
“I’m fine. It is only a bit of irritation from the cigarette smoke. A little sleep and I’ll be back to normal.” Mike dropped the bag of clothing he had worn tonight in the pile of items to be burned before they left and plopped down on a bed, throwing his left arm over his eyes.
Regardless of what Mike claimed, Patch picked up his stethoscope and moved to him. After listening to Mike’s lungs, Patch reported, “No rales or wheezing. Any other symptoms such as chest pain, headache, abdominal pain, nausea, or vision problems?”
“No. As I said, I’m just fine. Can I sleep now?”
“Yeah, but if you experience any of those, tell me.” Patch realized he had reacted to the word fine … the way the unit now used Blondie’s term. Mike not being aware of the acronym they used, he accepted Mike meant okay.
Anastasia found her bed and sighed as she sat. “How are Dan and Ripsaw doing?”
Blaze responded, “Ripsaw’s fever is increasing. Blondie woke once more lucid and the vomiting, diarrhea, and excessive sweating appears to have stopped. Though, he hasn’t peed yet which concerns us. So, you stole the physical evidence and gutted Savelievich’s place?”
“Yes.” She went on to tell them the details of their night. How she distracted the desk guard so Mike could slip in to pilfer the collected samples, and how Dom broke through the Makhachkala police firewall and planted a virus to eliminate all images of Mike and her, leaving no trail of their visit.
She concluded, “Dom also hacked the lab’s database and deleted the electronic inventory. They’ll have one heck of a time recreating their chain of evidence. To prevent them from resampling, we declared naptime for the police guarding the club, and we lit the house of horrors up like a roman candle.”
Noting her red-rimmed, tired eyes, Blaze said, “Get some sleep. We’ll discuss how we leave later.”
Anastasia detected Blaze’s anxiety, and although she didn’t want to increase his worry, she must tell him all she learned. “The idea to send Ripsaw through the security checkpoint with a splint won’t fly. I overheard that they will be scrutinizing anyone with an injury who meets our general descriptions. Though they didn’t capture any face shots of Ripsaw, his smaller size might be a give away.” She yawned and blinked, trying to stay awake.
“Rest now. You’ve been busy. I’ll think on the issue. We are indebted to you three for your service tonight.” Blaze squeezed the back of his neck. His notion of sending Ripsaw out tomorrow with Winds nose-dived.
Lying down, Anastasia glanced at Ripsaw and Dan … she would face the risk again in a heartbeat for both men. Her lids fluttered closed.
Patch reviewed the log on Blondie. “No urine yet?”
Returning to the kid’s bedside, Blaze shook his head. “No, but he woke about four and a half hours ago, took two spoonfuls of ice chips. He reported pain level five, and we gave him a prepared dose. He was aware of his surroundings until the drugs put him to sleep. He’s been restful since.”
Lifting the sheets to check for wetness and finding the protective pad dry, Patch blew out a frustrated breath. Though he was relieved to discover no additional urethral bleeding … a positive sign Blondie sustained no permanent damage when the Foley yanked out. After covering Blondie’s lower half, and uncovering his torso, Patch disinfected his hands and donned a fresh pair of gloves to begin draining the dialysate. “Blaze, you and Winds need sleep now. I’ll wake Mason or Brody if I need any help.”
“Alright.” Blaze lay his weary body down, understanding he needed to be clear-headed to resolve their exfil problem, he was asleep before Winds brought Patch a piping hot cup of coffee and laid down himself.
Sacred Heart Abbey – Unit’s Room – 0630 Hours
Intense pressure on Dan’s bladder roused him. His eyes flickered open finding himself lying flat on the bunk, no longer in Brody’s arms. The urge to piss became compelling. Through a dry throat, Dan croaked out, “Patch.”
Patch turned from taking Ripsaw’s temperature, relieved it dropped over three degrees and now registered one hundred one, and further pleased to see Blondie gazing at him with lucid eyes. “Hey, you’re awake. Level?”
“Three. Manageable. Gotta pee.”
A bright smile crossed Patch’s face as he rushed over and grabbed the urinal. “News is gettin’ better all the time.”
Brody smiled from his spot at the table, sipping liquid caffeine. “Fantastic.”
When a groggy Blondie tried to rise, Patch directed, “Stay still. Let me turn you on your side. With the catheter in place, I want to move you cautiously.”
“Need help?” Mason offered.
“Nah, I got this.” Patch positioned Blondie on his side and held the bottle for him as he averted his gaze, giving the kid a modicum of privacy. He began mentally reviewing the test he could now perform to determine the level of diquat in his system.
Hit by a tsunami of pain in his gut, Dan automatically curled up in reaction as he groaned and slammed his eyes shut. Immersed in agony, Dan was unaware of the mess his movement caused nor did he care at the moment.
“Shit!” Patch exclaimed as he jumped back when Blondie inadvertently doused his hands and pants with urine.
Brody flew across the room to Dan’s side, giving him a hand to squeeze to death in his agony. He anchored Danny in this world as he fought the extreme pain. He glanced at Patch’s fluctuating expressions, shock, dismay as his wet pants began to cling, and relief. Danny pissed. Brody’s quirky sense of humor kicked in and teased Patch. “That piss is liquid gold, not shit. Perhaps you should’ve paid more attention in medic class.”
A surprised chuckle slipped from Patch. Leave it to their resident comedian to joke about this. He retorted as he tried in vain to not smile, “Shut it, Brody, or you’ll be wearing the rest.” He raised the partially filled urinal and shook it mock threateningly towards Brody. Blondie’s catheter popped into his mind, and the smile dropped as he knelt and lifted the sheet to check. Worry eased once he determined no problems.
Mason relaxed reading Patch’s face. Thank goodness little brother didn’t dislodge the tubing. He chuckled quietly at t
he interaction between Brody and Patch. He rose and held out a towel to Patch. “Go wash up. I got Blondie.”
Dan’s eyes opened as he rode the wave of pain on the downward side of the crest. He realized what he did and croaked out. “Sorry, Patch.”
“No apologies necessary. I should’ve given you something for the pain first. Mason, give him half a dose, I want him awake to do an exam. I’d do it, but …” He stopped before saying ‘my hands are covered in urine,’ and took the towel. Striding over to the far corner, he grabbed the pack containing the clothes he wore at the base bar the night they left on this mission.
As Patch headed out, Ripsaw quipped, “At least it isn’t barf, like when Blondie had a migraine and hurled on Winds. You don’t stink.”
Awakening with Patch’s exclamation, Winds opened his eyes halfway. Checking the time, he calculated he slept four hours. Part of him wanted to go back to sleep, but his stomach rumbled, communicating loudly he was hungry. And Winds also couldn’t resist a comeback, “Patch, you gotta learn to move out of the way quicker.”
Patch poked his head back in the room. “Careful, Winds, or I’ll share with you as you shared with Ripsaw.”
Remembering hugging Ripsaw and transferring puke to his shirt when he told him he stunk, Winds snickered. He grinned at Ripsaw as he realized his buddy was awake and joking. His fever must have dropped.
Ripsaw softly chuckled recalling the same incident.
Dan groaned with embarrassment wishing he had not urinated on Patch. He still felt terrible for throwing up on Winds too. When am I gonna quit adding to my list of humiliating moments?
Kneeling, Mason injected a half dose of Blondie’s pain medication. “Sunshine, meds onboard, relief coming soon. Do you still need to pee?”
His grip on Brody lessened as Dan nodded.
After putting on gloves, Mason picked up the plastic bottle and repositioned Blondie. “Let’s do this like before, no muss, no fuss.”
When Dan finished his business, he watched Mason cap the urinal and slide it under the bed. Though discomfited by his action, Dan realized none of them would tease him because he was not in control when pain lanced through his body. The burning in his gut consumed him like a wildfire when it hit hard and nothing in this world registered.
Brody flexed his throbbing hand to restore circulation as he gave Dan a damp washcloth to wipe his hands. “Now that you’re awake and not puking your guts out, we should wash you up.”
“No. Leave me be. Moving a muscle, any muscle, isn’t happening.” All Dan desired to do was fall back into a drug-induced sleep.
“You don’t have to move. You can’t shower with the tube, so I’ll bathe you right here.” Brody grinned at Dan.
The last thing Dan wanted was a bath from one of the guys, not even Brody or Mason … more humiliation. Dan scowled. “Not happening. Rather stink.”
Anastasia stretched as she turned over to peer at Blondie. She withheld her laugh noting Dan’s petulant words and countenance. “We bought new clothing for Blondie and Ripsaw. And deodorant for you all. They’re in the gray bag.”
Ripsaw turned to Anastasia. “Why?”
Sitting up, she smiled. “‘Cause your jeans won’t work, and you two deserve a little comfort. There is a selection of sweatpants, shorts, and t-shirts.”
“If you want to comfort me, you can play nurse and bathe me.” Ripsaw winked as he beamed at Anastasia. “What da ya say?”
“How about I check with Sister Agatha?” Anastasia chuckled.
Blaze grinned hearing Ripsaw’s banter as he rubbed his bloodshot eyes then stretched. Everyone except Blondie, Ripsaw, Patch, Winds, and him had showered and changed at some point in the past twenty-four hours. Patch was now in the process, helped along by accident.
He recognized he should clean up and the kid would be more comfortable with less of an audience. Rising from his bed, Blaze said, “Winds, you and I need to hit the showers.” Noting Mike shuffling towards the coffee pot, he added, “Mike, go with Anastasia and round up some grub for us.” Then he glanced at Dom and decided it would be okay if he stayed. His focus was on his girls and Blondie would not want Dom to leave on his account.
Their plans halted as sisters Mary Catherine, Agatha, Maria, Clare, Frances, and Esther entered carrying buckets of water, sheets, towels, washcloths, and soap. The abbess addressed the group, “We are here to attend to ablutions for Ripsaw, Blondie, and the children. Breakfast is waiting for the rest of you in the kitchen.” She turned to Mason and asked, “Would you mind staying a moment to help us move your friends to clean beds?”
“Be happy to assist.” Mason removed and tossed the gloves in the trash.
Blaze smiled as he grabbed his change of clothes. “Thank you, Abbess. Winds and I will shower first and join the others after.”
As Sisters Agatha and Clare approached him, Ripsaw blushed. He fully understood Blondie’s dilemma. Although being bathed by a nursing nun would be better than any of the guys, he was still self-conscious.
Touching Ripsaw’s forehead, Agatha smiled. “Fever is down. Excellent.”
Anastasia handed the bag with Ripsaw’s and Dan’s new clothes to Mary Catherine as she exited the room with Mike, Winds, Blaze, Brody, and Dom. The sisters set to work and Mason did as bid, first moving Ripsaw to another bed then Blondie.
Sister Maria smiled at Blondie. “My name is Maria. Relax, I have done this often.” She kept her eyes on his face as she covered him with a lightweight sheet to preserve his modesty before removing his hospital gown.
Surprisingly, Dan found himself relaxing under the gentle ministration of the nun. He actually drifted into a light doze as she washed him.
Maria thanked God for allowing her to first glimpse the extensive scarring on his chest while he slept. She gasped last evening, but forewarned now she maintained a pleasant, non-reactive smile as she deftly washed, rinsed, and dried the young man all while keeping his body discreetly covered. When she finished, Maria noticed his face was less drawn to pain lines, making her happy she gave him a modicum of relief.
Mason ended up staying in case either of his brothers needed him. When he finished stripping and remaking both their beds with clean linens, he noted Blondie appeared more relaxed and his gratitude for the succor the nuns provided them all increase tenfold. “Do you need help dressing him?”
Glancing at the man Elsa called the gentle giant, Maria smiled. “I can manage but thank you for your kind offer. However, once he is clothed, if you would return him to his bed I would appreciate the assistance.”
When Agatha asked Mason to move Ripsaw, he said, “Yes, ma’am.” As he lifted Ripsaw Mary Catherine restacked the pillows to prop his leg. Mason set him down and asked, “Pain level?”
“Doing alright. Two.” Ripsaw stomach growled. “Hungry though.”
“Great sign. When Patch returns, we’ll check if you can eat.” Mason put a pillow behind Ripsaw’s back, so he was at a slight incline as the nuns cleaned up after the bath and left with the sisters who attended Dom’s daughters.
With practiced ease, Maria put on Blondie’s underwear and a pair of soft, cotton sweatpants. She chose a loose-fitting t-shirt and queried, “Are you able to sit up so we can put your shirt on?”
Merely lifting his hips as she pulled up his boxers and pants zapped Dan’s energy. “No. Probably better not to put it on. Patch might make me drink more of the foul bentonite. It will end up dirty.”
“Alright.” Maria stood, gathered the soiled linens and picked up the bucket. “I’m finished, Mason. You may move him.”
As Mason settled him in place, Dan heard Mason’s stomach rumble. Opening his eyes, he said, “Go eat.”
“I’ll hang here until the others return.” Mason pulled covers over the kid and smiled when his breathing changed to slow cadence indicating sleep. He checked on Ripsaw, noting he dozed off too. He retrieved the book Sister Maria lent him and sat near Blondie. Recalling pleasant memories of putting his little sister Cal
a to bed, Mason began reading aloud.
“Child as he was, he was desperate with hunger, and reckless with misery. He rose from the table; and advancing to the master, basin and spoon in hand, said: somewhat alarmed at his own temerity: ‘Please, sir, I want some more.’
“The master was a fat, healthy man; but he turned very pale. He gazed in stupefied astonishment on the small rebel for some seconds, and then clung for support to the copper. The assistants were paralyzed with wonder; the boys with fear. ‘What!’ said the master at length, in a faint voice. ‘Please, sir,’ replied Oliver, ‘I want some more.’ The master aimed a blow at Oliver’s head with the ladle; pinioned him in his arm; and shrieked aloud for the beadle.”
Mason continued to read until Sister Maria entered and offered, “I will sit with them so you may go break your fast.”
“Thank you, sister, but I prefer to remain here. I’ll eat later.”
“He is special to you?” Maria said.
Studying his snoozing brother, relieved he survived poisoning, Mason’s face softened. “Yes. My little brother is an exceptional man and much loved.”
Brody entered with a smile having overheard Mason. Yeah, Danny’s loved by six brothers who will go to the ends of the earth for him as he does for us.
A smile graced Maria’s face. “He is lucky to have you as a big brother. Elsa is correct. You are a gentle giant. May God bless and protect you all.”
Creative Tricks of the Trade
50
May 30
Sacred Heart Abbey – Kitchen – 0710 Hours
The group, now minus Brody who didn’t want to leave Danny alone and rushed through his meal, sat at one table at the back of the kitchen relishing a basic yet delicious and nourishing meal of fried eggs with kielbasa and dill, buttered bread, and coffee. After Brody left and their hunger was sated, Dom sketched out his strategy. When he finished, he scanned the others, sipping coffee as he waited for the inevitable questions.
Winds considered Dom’s words carefully. “Anastasia, Ripsaw, Mike and I entered the country with Blondie as Maks. Although they reviewed the security tapes when we arrived, and don’t possess images of our faces, there are distinguishing features. Anastasia is tall, blonde, and drop-dead gorgeous. Mike’s copper blond hair is almost as distinctive as Blondie’s golden locks. Ripsaw’s stature is another problem, but Patch’s idea for a splint won’t work since they’re searching for anyone with injuries. We’ll never pass through security as a group without raising suspicion.”
