by Laura Acton
Fear for Dan driving him, Ray leaned over and muted Dan’s headset, and ignored Boss’ guidance not to push. “Cut the crap, Dan. I’m muted and now so are you. You need to be straight with me for one damned time. Close your eyes and pretend I’m Jim, but for once be entirely honest with me.”
Dan closed his eyes and conjured up Patch’s … Jim’s face he corrected himself. He struggled to tell Ray the full truth, but the trust he needed didn’t exist yet. He had no problem owning up and taking responsibility when he screwed up. Like his decision to go after a subject with an injured arm which could’ve resulted in harm to Ray.
However, it remained ultra-difficult to be open with his physical and emotional states. Both of those he held close because they revealed weakness. His vulnerabilities had been used against him many times. Major Plouffe and Brogan Snow were two prime abusers. Men in positions which allowed them to exploit his soft underbelly. Deflection and half-truths became an ingrained and unyielding defense mechanism. Dan now only shared his limitations with people who earned his trust through consistent actions.
Although the team was part of his chosen family, and he wanted to confide in them, many barriers still existed. He made strides in lowering some of his shields with Lexa and Bram … which is why he could tell Lexa he was tired.
Dan liked Ray a lot, but their friendship had not progressed to the point where he could drop his guard. About to answer Ray with a generalization, the voice of a man he trusted with his life rang crystal clear in his ears. He’s here. I’m not alone.
“Blondie, injury report,” Patch stated in a no-nonsense manner as he stood at the command post. The call he received at home from dispatch to contact Pastore, as he and Heather watched the local news, sent him dashing out of his apartment with nary a word to Heather.
She caught up to him at their car, shoved his raincoat at him, kissed him, and told him to call her once he knew Dan’s condition. Though he had not called Nick yet, they both grasped the request meant Blondie must be at the bombed building. Few things rattled Jim to the core … Blondie in trouble topped the short list. A call to Nick on the way confirmed his fears.
At Jim’s voice, a wave of relief cascaded over Ray, and he quickly switched on Dan’s comms unit.
Wearily, Dan answered Patch honestly and as thoroughly as possible. “Blood visible in my urine. Cold, but sweating. Rapid onset of fatigue hit me like a ton of bricks. Sharp intermittent pains in right flank and abdomen are level nine. Constant and increasing pain in my back is a six.
“Vomited several times, still nauseous, thought I had food poisoning … hurts almost as much as Visinata poisoning. Pulse double regular. Right wrist might be broken near my previous ulna bone fracture, throbbing at a four. One positive, respiration is normal.”
Dan’s volume lowered. “Patch, I feel like shit. I’m tired. Can I go to sleep?”
The team’s concerns heightened when they detected a note of pleading in the ordinarily stoic intonations of their youngest member.
Jim’s eyes teared up, wanting to be inside prepping Dan for transport to a hospital instead of standing under a tent as the rain pelted down and men attempted to find a way to reach the trapped officers. His tone transformed to soothing and caring one, “Thank you, Blondie. Are you lying down?”
“No, sitting.”
The tenderness persisted as Jim instructed, “You need to lie down and remain still, but you cannot sleep yet. I need you to stay with me. Can you do that, little brother?”
“Roger,” Dan breathed out. He moved endeavoring to comply and found Ray’s hands helping him to shift to a prone position.
The team listened to the conversation between Jim and Dan amazed by the amount of detailed information Dan gave Jim without hesitation. Everyone anticipated the day Dan was as open and honest with them.
Jim transitioned to medic mode when he gave precise instructions. “Ray, remove his vest, elevate his legs above his heart keeping his head level or lower, and if possible, cover him with something. I’m certain he is going into shock. You must keep him warm and still.”
“Okay.” Without removing Dan’s jacket, Ray undid the straps on both sides of the tactical vest and slipped it off before resettling Dan’s head on the cushion. Surprised Dan accepted his help with no complaint or resistance, Ray lifted Dan’s legs and draped them over the sofa’s padded armrest. After shedding his coat, Ray laid it over Dan’s torso.
“Done. He’s lying down now. It is cold in this basement. I guess somewhere around seventy. I’m going to search for the air conditioning controls to raise the temperature and find more than my jacket to warm him,” Ray apprised everyone, before addressing Dan, “I’ll be back shortly. No napping, while I’m gone. Don’t want to repeat startling you.”
His decline gaining speed, combatting the desire to slip away from the pain and give in to the pressing exhaustion, Dan cracked his eyes open with difficulty and acknowledged Ray with a slight dip of his chin.
To keep Dan engaged, Jim reverted to a gentle tenor. “Got yourself into another situation, didn’t you? What am I gonna do about your bad habits?”
“Jim, you remember Unicorn?” Dan changed topics.
“Yes, I remember Clay Sheldon. Why?” Jim answered, bowing his head and closing his eyes. That mission had been terrible from start to finish. He tried for so long to revive Clay, but Unicorn was gone. Blondie blamed himself though no one could’ve foreseen the dreadful chain of events. Why is Blondie asking about Unicorn now?
To remain awake, Dan continued talking, lethargy evident in his slow speech. “I thought about him today. Can you believe this is all the result of unicycles and unicorns attacking me? Karma sure bit my ass today.”
“Blondie, are you experiencing hallucinations?” Jim asked as he glanced at Nick, confusion and increased anxiety written on his face.
Nick put a hand on Jim’s shoulder to anchor the medic and shook his head. “No, he isn’t hallucinating.” He explained how Dan had been buried by unicycles at the Bike-Minded shop, and what Ray shared about Dan’s run-in with the unicyclists dressed as unicorns.
Jim stared at the rain as thunder boomed, the storm conjuring up memories of the mission where Unicorn died. “I swear, an unprecedented amount of weird crap happens to you, Blondie.”
“Uh huh.” Dan’s eyelids slipped down as he lost the battle against fatigue.
After a few moments of quiet, Jim said, “Talk to me, Blondie.”
Nick studied the paramedic, pondering Jim’s use of Blondie. The overt agitation in his body language made it apparent Jim feared for his friend’s life. Just like in the church when Dan bled copiously. Nick rubbed his face as his apprehension amped up in unison with Jim’s. I refuse to lose anyone today!
Jim yelled, “Ray, go check on Blondie. Now!”
Racing back, carrying five lightweight lab smocks, Ray halted and knelt. “Dan? Hey, buddy, open your eyes.” He got no response. “Jim, Dan is out.”
“What is his heart rate?” Jim clenched his fists as time ticked by slowly.
“Ninety-eight,” Ray reported as he covered Dan with the thin fabric. “Should I shake him awake, and give him some water or something?
“No liquids. We can’t tax the kidneys. Let him rest and monitor his pulse for me every five minutes. We’ve done all we can for now. Keep an eye on him and inform me if anything changes.” Jim crouched, dropped his head in his hands, and waited. He wished to be with Blondie, … no, Dan he finally corrected. Jim silently prayed Dan held on until he reached him.
Sitting vigil, praying they overrode the lockdown soon, Ray realized he asked something of Dan which would be unattainable without extensive work. The undeniable trust and connection between Dan and Jim had been built over years of hardship. He hoped to one day to earn Dan’s confidence.
As he passed the time, Ray’s mind switched to Loki … his brother from another mother. A man he trusted like Dan did Jim. His friend would wrestle with guilt because he couldn’t defuse
the bomb. And he would be saddened by the loss of Lucille. “Hey, guys no teasing Loki over Lucille’s demise. He’s gonna be dealing with enough if Dan doesn’t make it, and ev—”
Lexa cut off Ray, shouting, “Dan is going to be okay! If an armor-piercing bullet can’t kill him, a bruised kidney won’t.”
“Copy,” Ray, Jon, and Boss voiced with conviction, though each fought an internal battle, believing if they made different choices tonight they could’ve done something which would’ve resulted in an altered scenario … one which didn’t end with Dan’s life in jeopardy.
Shoulds, Woulds, Coulds
11
January 7
St. Michael’s Hospital – Room 1033 – 6:00 a.m.
Nick ended the call and pushed open Loki’s and Dan’s hospital room door. He had stepped into the hall, not wanting to wake either as he conversed with Commander Gambrill. Upon entering, he studied his non-admitted officers.
Jon had not moved from his position leaning on the wall. The tactical lead’s expression solemn, with his arms crossed, as his eyes shifted between their two injured members. He understood Jon’s anger and frustration, but successfully counseled him to view their actions in the entirety of the situation they faced last night. Jon’s demeanor spoke more of carrying guilt for his own choices.
Changing Jon’s mind in that arena would be difficult since his friend shared with him that he ignored his gut and agreed to allow Dan to go in after the subject. Nick appreciated that element too. He possessed the same feelings. Shoulds, woulds, and coulds monsters, if not appropriately dealt with, destroyed officers from within.
A poem he read years ago when starting out on the police force came to mind. ‘Build your shoulds as do the woods, with showmanship and flair, and water and air. Build your shants as a lively dance, with rhythm and grace, and cloth and lace.’ He was never sure quite why the poem spoke to him in times of self-doubt, but it did.
Shifting his eyes to Lexa, he smiled. She exhibited grace under pressure. Their conversation while in the waiting room enlightened him to her strategy and he tended to agree. Although counterintuitive, too much hovering might cause an opposite reaction from their rookie.
Lexa explained her insight, every time they coddled him, Dan’s defensive barriers rose. The shields Dan used to protect himself were deep-seated. Until they earned Dan’s trust, they would need to dance around them gracefully.
Noting Bram reclining in the too small chair, though most chairs fit that category for their massive combat specialist, Nick had to smile again. Bram skillfully handled Mrs. Baldovino, taking exceptional care of the dear, distressed woman. He arranged for Kellie to drive Loki’s ma home and to pick her up later today to visit.
Confident Donata would return with enough Italian food and freshly baked bread to feed an army, Nick’s stomach rumbled a little at the thought of her cooking, wishing he would be here when it arrived. No such luck.
The last member he scanned appeared to be deep in thought sitting near Loki. Of all the uninjured, Ray endured the worst angst while in the locked basement. For one fear-filled hour, Ray sat vigil with an unconscious Dan, unable to do anything to stop his deteriorating health.
Though Jon had a civil discussion in the waiting room with Ray and apologized for his outburst while trapped, Ray wore a heavy cloak of guilt like Jon. Their information specialist maintained he was the only one cognizant of Dan’s injured wrist and he should’ve stopped him from going in. Ray believed if he would’ve said something, he could’ve prevented Dan from being trapped, and their sniper’s condition would not have deteriorated to near death.
Should, woulds, and coulds again. Dangerous beasts with enormous appetites for conflict and self-doubt. Nick pulled himself out of his musings. “Gambrill made some changes. Charlie Team will cover our shift until four, so we can grab a few hours of shuteye. With Dan and Loki in the hospital and Ray off today.” He turned to Ray, “You need time to recover from food poisoning, no arguments. And with Crispin and Carl still on medical leave, Brett, Sean, and Noel of Echo will fill in for our guys. So, we all need to head home to rest.”
“I’m not leaving until they wake.” Jon pushed off the wall and strode closer to Loki’s bed. I should’ve stayed with him. I could’ve made sure Loki exited with enough time. If only I told Dan to wait, then Loki would’ve left sooner and gotten out uninjured. Jon’s grip on the gear in his hand increased.
“Jonnie, you …” Nick trailed off, noticing Loki’s eyes flickered open. He strode forward. “Hey, you decided to join us,” Nick whispered aware Loki’s head would be pounding with the concussion he suffered.
All eyes turned to Loki, and they crowded around his bed, waiting for him to wake fully, knowing it most likely would be short-lived given the pain meds Loki had been prescribed.
Several slow blinks brought Loki’s world into focus. Seeing their smiling faces … all their faces, he grinned. “Hey.”
“Bet your throat is dry.” Ray offered a cup of water with a bendy straw at Loki’s raspy word.
After sucking up the cool liquid, quenching his thirst, Loki said, “You got out. I’m happy.” Then he realized the team was one shy. “Where’s Dan?”
Bram shifted, opening a gap in their semi-circle giving Loki a view of the other bed. “Right here. He’s sharing your room, buddy.”
His eyes widened, drawn first to the red bag hanging from the IV pole. As his gaze moved to Dan, taking in his pale complexion, he asked, “What happened? Was he hurt in the explosion?”
“No, unicorns got him,” Ray quipped.
“Uh?”
Ray explained what occurred after Loki lost consciousness, ending with, “Glad Jim was there to stabilize Dan. He required surgery to stop an internal bleed in his kidney. I forget what the urology surgeon called the procedure, but he used a minimally invasive technique, reaching Dan’s kidney through a large blood vessel in his groin. With a week of bedrest and a couple of weeks on light duty, Dan will be back with us.”
Noting the brace on Dan’s wrist, Loki asked, “His arm?”
“A sprain.” Lexa took hold of Loki’s hand, happy he appeared in little or no pain. “Dr. Fraser expressed his surprise that his wrist isn’t in worse shape given a computer fell on it.”
Loki nodded, grateful Dan would be alright … again.
“I’m sorry Lucille didn’t make it out, buddy.” Jon held out the gear he salvaged, the only discernable piece of the robot he found in the blast zone. “Thought you might want this. Sorry I couldn’t find more of her.”
Shoulders slumping, a sad pall descended over Loki. “Uh, thanks.” He accepted the offered gear and set it in his lap as his fingertips brushed over the only piece left of Lucille. He took a moment to recall the enjoyable hours working on the bomb-sniffing robot.
Lucille is gone. Jon bringing this to him was a nice gesture. Loki understood they all teased him about Lucille being his girlfriend. To be fair, he treated her like she was real. But really, he knew the difference. Lucille was metal, plastic, gyros, treads, lubricating fluids, and software. Every single piece could be replaced and rebuilt, recreating her as if nothing ever happened.
Lifting his eyes, Loki roved over Ray, Bram, Boss, Lexa, Jon, and Dan. His team, his brothers, his sister, and the man he thought of as a father were flesh and blood and irreplaceable. They were the reason he stayed so long trying to defuse the device. He couldn’t have lived with himself if his failure to neutralize the threat resulted in their deaths.
Lexa put her hand on Loki’s shoulder, none of them would dare tease him about his loss. Using a gentle tone, she asked, “What are you thinking about?”
Loki peered up at her. “How glad I am you all are alive and alright.”
She leaned down and hugged Loki. “We’re glad you are okay too. You need to give yourself more time to get out. What would we do without you?”
A blush pinkened his cheeks as Loki shrugged.
To lighten Loki’s spirit, Ray said, �
��Yeah, who would make us laugh by switching our uniform pants if you weren’t here?”
I do not lie, why don’t they believe me? On an emotional rollercoaster, frustrated no one believed he didn’t pull the prank, Loki asserted with force behind his words, “It. Wasn’t. Me.”
“Yeah, right!” Jon chuckled as the others only grinned.
Dan woke in stealth mode and listened to each word spoken from the time Boss explained the mixed team for the next three shifts. Comprehending he messed up and everyone would be pissed at him, he remained quiet hoping to avoid the stern lectures coming his way until he was ready to deal with them.
Hearing the irritation in Loki’s voice changed his mind. He would mend at least one fence, and right a wrong. He understood what it felt like not to be believed and Loki didn’t deserve to feel that way. And perhaps an underhanded diversion might stall the scolding. Dan opened his eyes and turned to Loki. “He didn’t do it. Loki is telling the truth. Lexa and I set things up. We thought it would be fun to pull a prank on the ultimate prankster.”
Dan quickly shut his eyes not believing the scene playing before him. There is no way in hell that is real. Safer to keep my eyes closed.
Surprised by his comment, Lexa whipped her head to Dan. He is awake? His words registered, and she smiled. She would go with his proclamation because she noticed Loki becoming upset again with no one believing him. The joke had gone on long enough, and Dan’s solution was perfect. He must’ve perceived Loki’s frustration too. One more thing to like about the multi-faceted man—he cares about people’s feelings.
Stunned by Dan’s declaration, everyone gawked at him before erupting in loud laughter. Realizing their volume would cause Loki pain, they rapidly lowered their voices.
Loki sputtered, “Oh, you two are so in for it. You’ll be lucky if I don’t find something to hang you both upside down with.”
As Loki continued to ramble on, Lexa smiled at Dan. She could get away with it now based on the outrageous thing he said, but she was beaming because she was unreservedly happy Dan survived. He was deathly pale when they brought him out of the damned basement—looking like he was on his way to the undertaker instead of the hospital.
