by Laura Acton
“Copy that. Jon and Loki are ten minutes out. A paramedic with rappelling experience joined them. Keep our guy safe for now. We’ll be there to help soon,” Nick said.
“Copy that,” she replied. Keep him safe. That’s what they had promised earlier today. He deserved to be safe. He was family. He was an amazing and selfless man who protected those who couldn’t protect themselves, often at great risk to himself. She would do her best to keep him safe.
Lexa adjusted her crouched position so she could still apply pressure to his wound and be able to gently stroke her hand through his hair. She realized that this was the second time today she had done that. It felt right, so right, but she wished it wasn’t in situations like these.
An image of his WOW smile entered her mind. He was so ruggedly handsome—well, not right now. He was a bloody mess right now and he was gonna be bruised every shade of the rainbow soon. But normally he was magnificent-looking and attracted the attention of many women.
His sapphire blue eyes drew her in and he intrigued her—he was multilayered. She wondered if Dan was the marrying kind. Lexa checked herself. Where the hell did that thought come from?
She sighed. Today had been one for the record books. She couldn’t remember one with so many highs and lows. No wonder her mind was skipping into areas she never once thought of before with any man. She would chalk it up to the stress of the day and push it aside.
Lexa noticed that Dan was beginning to stir. She called to him, “Dan, hey, Danny. It’s Lexa. Help is on the way. Hang in there. You’re going to be okay. Can you open your eyes?”
Dan could, but he wasn’t going to. Was her tone really one of concern? No, it couldn't be. He wasn’t ready to see the condemnation for his failure in Lexa’s eyes. Dan remained still, keeping his breathing pattern slow, not giving any indication he had regained full consciousness—a skill he had learned many years ago and unfortunately had used often.
He just wasn’t ready to deal with the emotions. Lexa was stroking his hair gently and there was a painful pressure on his right arm. He hurt—the pain in his chest throbbed with each intake of air.
Startled out of her thoughts when a helicopter dropped low over the trees Lexa jerked. She lost her balance and her knee landed on Dan’s chest.
Pain—hot and intense—radiated through his chest. Dan couldn’t stop the gasp from escaping his throat or the grimace across his face.
“Dan, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Dan? Danny, I’m so sorry,” Lexa murmured to him feeling absolutely awful that she had caused him more pain. She looked up at the helicopter, relieved help had arrived.
He didn’t hear her. The blackness had claimed him again—blissfully taking him away from pain.
“Ready, Jim?” Jon called to the paramedic as they prepared to rappel from the police helicopter.
“Ready. Been a few months since I’ve done it, but it’s a skill you don’t forget,” Jim replied as he adjusted the medic bag on his shoulder and rechecked his line.
Jon, Loki, Colton, Paul, and Jim fast-lined down to the top of the ravine. They took in the overall scene then set to work. Jon, Loki, and Jim quickly descended the incline, sending rocks and dirt tumbling ahead of them. Colton and Paul followed more slowly and when they got to the bottom they crouched next to Aaron with saddened faces and wondered just what happened here.
Jim was the first to reach Lexa and Dan. He looked at the female officer’s face and noticed tears—that indicated to him that she cared about this guy. No duh, for the entire flight here he’d listened to the four guys in the bird talking about this officer.
Two of them were especially anxious to arrive and ensure this ‘Dantastic’ guy was okay. The man was obviously important to them—more than just a teammate and they’d clearly do anything for him. Jim had known a few guys who engendered that feeling in others. There were six such guys Jim would readily give his life for—correction, only four now, the other two were gone.
He quickly turned his attention to his patient. He’d been informed that the injuries didn’t sound life threatening, so he took a moment to take in the position of the body looking for any obvious indications of trauma.
Yes, ‘the body’ not ‘his body’. It was important for him to remain detached in his work now so he now deliberately thought in impersonal terms. There was a time in his life when it was all too personal and it had nearly destroyed him. So now it needed to be impersonal. Jim saw nothing indicating any broken limbs. That was good. He squatted down to assess the head injuries next as his vision shifted to the TRF officer’s face.
“Blondie …” was expelled on a faint wisp of air as shock coursed violently through Jim. He couldn’t move as his mind processed the image in front of him. “No! Not Blondie!” Jim shouted in anger and disbelief. His impersonal walls exploded and crumbled in ruins around him, exposing his heart.
Jon and Loki were surprised by the paramedic’s reaction. They quickly looked at each other and soundlessly mouthed ‘Blondie?’ Less than an hour ago they’d heard Trevor’s story where Dan was called Blondie. Did the paramedic know Dan from the military?
Lexa was just as confused and wondered what the hell did the color of Dan’s hair have to do with anything?
Jim shook himself out of his stupor a second later. It was Blondie—it was him—here and hurt. Criminy, hadn’t Blondie been through enough already? Luckily, Jim’s training took over and he immediately set to work assessing Blondie’s condition.
Unfortunately, he knew this body well. He did too many checkouts on it, stitched too many wounds, and cleaned too damned many thin gashes. Jim knew what this body could handle and how it reacted to injuries, so he was worried that Blondie was unconscious.
“How long has he been out?” Jim asked Lexa.
Lexa started calculating in her head and replied, “About thirty-five or so minutes since he has responded to anyone. Not sure if he was out the whole time or just unable to speak. He was definitely out when I got here, but it appeared he was beginning to come around until …” her voice trailed off.
“Until?’ Jim prompted.
“Until just before you rappelled. I shifted and my knee knocked into his chest. He gasped and I could see his face wince in pain, then nothing,” Lexa finished guiltily.
“Help me get his vest off, need to check his ribs,” Jim requested, silently hoping that it was broken ribs as those were easy to mend.
Lexa and Jon carefully moved Dan as they helped Jim remove the vest.
Jim cut open his shirts and started probing gently. Blondie was covered in wonderful shades of red, blue, and purple. A small smile crossed his lips. The kid always did bruise magnificently. Some bruising on his left shoulder and left upper chest was already turning blackish. Those had to be hours old. This wasn’t his first injury today.
“Was he injured recently?” Jim asked, already knowing the answer was yes, but needing to know general details to fully assess Blondie’s current state.
“Took two bullets to the vest early this morning—left shoulder and chest area. Knocked the wind completely out of him. He was given the all clear by the medic that checked him out,” Jon said staring at the badly bruised chest.
Loki added, “This afternoon he collapsed, hit his head, and was out for a bit. The medic said no concussion, but he had a small lump on the back of the head. No one knows why he collapsed after he took the shot and saved little Sara. We think he might’ve had low blood sugar or something. He hadn’t eaten today. Medic cleared him for duty then too.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it was because he was hungry. You should’ve seen how quickly he ate the lunch we got him,” Lexa said.
Jim’s probing wasn’t finding what he had hoped for, “Shit, not broken, wish they were broken,” he said distastefully not realizing he had said it out loud.
Disturbed by the words and tone the medic used, Jon asked with ice lacing his tone, “Just what the hell do you mean by that?”
“What?” Jim looked up at Jon,
caught off guard by the question and tone. He registered a set jaw and a fierceness that conveyed ‘I can kill you’. He scrambled in his head to figure out what caused that. Oh shit, he thought as Jim realized he must have spoken out loud and how it would sound to someone who didn’t know what he knew. How to explain?
“Relax, please,” Jim started. “I know him, I know how his body reacts, I was hoping for broken ribs,” he continued. The look didn’t change. Crap, not the right words, shouldn’t have said ‘hoping’.
He was dead, figuratively, if not literally, if he didn’t make Jon understand quickly. Jim explained, “Unconscious, broken ribs, easy to fix, but he’d go out with that type of pain. Not broken means it has to be something worse.” Whew, success. Jon’s demeanor changed from ‘I’ll kill you’ to ‘worried’.
“Explain,” was all Jon said.
“Blondie, err, Dan to you, has a high pain threshold. It has to be bad for him to be unconscious. Really bad either physically or ...” Jim didn’t finish. He didn’t want to share ‘or emotionally’ with them—it wasn’t his place, so he tried to deflect. “I’m worried there might be internal bleeding—all the bruising on his stomach and kidney area. That would be bad, something like that, he’d be out. It has me real worried,” Jim concluded.
“Boss, we need air-evac now, possible internal bleeding. The police helicopter can’t get him out. There’s nowhere to land, no clearing large enough, and it’s not outfitted with a hoist,” was Jon’s tightly controlled response to Jim’s explanation, although inside his guts were churning.
“Let me find out air-evac ETA, hold tight,” Nick responded. Switching to the proper channel he communicated the need and didn’t like the response. “Are you sure? Nothing else is available? Any others with a faster response time from surrounding areas? Do what you can, we have a badly injured TRF officer with possible internal bleeding.”
Frustrated and upset, Nick switched back to channel seven, “Jonny, bad news. Air-evac ETA is two hours. They’re busy with an eight-car pileup that includes a busload of high school kids. They say they have nothing closer with capability to extract without landing.”
“We need options guys—fast,” Jon replied. The team started considering possible options. They needed to get Dan to a hospital and quickly. No one was happy.
Chapter Twenty-Two
July 15
Army CH-146 Griffon Helicopter – 8:50 p.m.
Corporal Nathan Simons removed his radio headset and looked at his unit commander. “Captain Blain?”
“Yeah, Winds, what’s so important you’re using titles?” Blaze asked, knowing something was up. His best friend, communications specialist, and second-in-command was rarely formal. It usually indicated that something out of the ordinary was happening.
“Blaze, been listening to local air chatter. There’s a situation not far from us. The Toronto Tactical Response Force was dealing with a gang war and has an officer in need of air-evac. A paramedic who rappelled to his location says there’s possible internal bleeding. The civilian air-evac ETA is two hours—backed up dealing with a multi-vehicle crash. The TRF need a bird with a hoist to get the officer out because of the terrain. There’s no aircraft available sooner that’s outfitted with one. I was thinking we should help,” Winds explained.
“We’re finished with the training op. Let me see if we can get authorization. You locate who I need to speak with at TRF if we get it,” Blaze replied then proceeded to communicate with Major White at the Ottawa base to obtain permission to assist.
Once authorization was obtained, Winds patched Blaze through to the right channel. “This is Captain Blain, with Canadian Special Forces. May I speak with Commander Gambrill or Sergeant Pastore?” Blaze asked.
Sergeant Winter looked up to find the Commander engaged with the head of Guns and Gangs so he motioned for Nick, “Hey, switch to channel one, a Captain Blain from the Special Forces needs to speak with you.”
Nick switched channels. “Captain Blain, this is Sergeant Pastore. I’m a bit busy. What is it that you need?”
Blaze got right to it. “I hear you have a situation. We’d like to assist.”
“How can you help?” Nick asked with a curious tone hearing a loud whir in the background.
“We just finished a training op. Heard you had an injured officer that needs to be air-lifted. We’re currently about ten to fifteen minutes out from your location. Our bird is outfitted with a hoist and basket. We’re experienced in extractions. We can get your guy,” Blaze responded.
“Thank you. We would very much appreciate your help,” Nick said as relief swept through him. He then gave Captain Blain the coordinates and had him switch to channel seven.
Rouge Park – Ravine – 9:00 p.m.
Jon, Loki, and Lexa were standing a little away from Dan and the paramedic. They were still trying to come up with options—nothing looked good. When the Boss came back on and said, “Jon, good news, help is about ten minutes out. I’m patching in a Captain Blain so the two of you can define a plan.”
Blaze and Jon spoke and worked out a plan. When the helicopter arrived, they would send down two of their unit with the backboard, basket, and four harnesses. Once the plan was defined everyone felt a small relief.
Jim had checked Blondie’s vitals again and was setting up an IV—hoping to get it done before Blondie regained consciousness. He was concentrating on doing that, so Jim didn’t notice that Blondie’s eyes had opened.
Dan blinked a few times getting his eyes to focus. His head was turned to the right and he noticed Jon, Lexa, and Loki off to his right talking. “Ow!” Dan jerked hard at the prick of a needle. Every muscle in his body constricted and he tried to pull away from it.
Panic started to grow as the pain in his body increased with his jerking movement. Dan panted hard as he flicked his eyes to the left to see who was jabbing him with a needle. Thoughts of being ‘there’ started flooding in and threatened to overtake him.
His vision was blurred and swam, but the man he saw looked familiar. A name filtered into his head—Patch. Not believing his eyes, Dan blinked several times, but he was always presented with the same image when they opened. His kind brown eyes, his light ash brown hair—his face—so familiar when he was in pain and in need of medical help.
Dan realized he must be dreaming, or worse, hallucinating. It couldn’t be Patch—not here. How could it be Patch? Could it be him? He felt his arm trapped under a knee as he tried to speak. “Patch?” came out in a faint, hoarse sound, but was loud enough for Jim to hear.
If the ‘ow’ or his name hadn’t given it away, Jim would’ve known Blondie awoke by the jerk and rigidity of his entire body. Jim hated to start IVs on Blondie when he was awake, but he had enough experience in doing so that he had reverted to his tried and true method and knelt on Blondie’s arm trapping it while he inserted the IV. He quickly finished taping the IV in place and then looked into Blondie’s scared and questioning eyes.
Jim smiled. “Yeah, Blondie, it’s me. I was just as surprised to see you. Missed ya a lot, buddy. Hold tight. Evac is a few minutes out. Rest for now. I’m here. I’ll take care of you like always.” Then he placed a hand on Dan’s left bicep and gave it a small squeeze like he had done way too many times before.
Dan didn’t know what to think. Patch said he missed him. How is that possible? They hated him. How could Patch miss him? Dan recognized the gesture, a squeeze of his arm, one that had comforted him many times. Patch had told him once that he did it to let Dan know he cared.
So why did Patch do it now? Patch didn’t care about him anymore. How could Patch care? Dan had done the unthinkable—killed their brother. Patch hated him now. Unable to comprehend, his mind too jumbled, his body in too much pain, Dan simply stared at Patch, no hint of emotion showing.
Jim’s conversation attracted the attention of the team. They hurried over and knelt close.
“Dano, it’s good to see you awake. You promised me no naps in the forest. Pro
mised me no unacceptable risks. Do we need to review that definition again?” Jon said strictly, but with smile as he lightly patted Dan’s right leg.
“Got ya a cool ride. No regular air-evac for you, Wile E. Coyote. Got an Acme bird on the way—special ordered. Only the best will do for our Dantastic. But seriously, you have to stop this. Three times in the same day. This isn’t what we had in mind for a profoundly unique day. Just sayin,” Loki wisecracked needing to ease the tension.
Lexa stroked Dan’s sun-kissed hair, caressing his head. “You scared us. Just be still and let us help you. You’ll be okay. We’ll keep you safe,” she said softly with deep concern. Worry was etched on her face as she noticed that his eyes were completely devoid of emotion. He didn’t respond to any of their comments. Dan’s eyes had gone blank and that scared the crap out of her.
Dan was shutting down. He didn’t know how to handle this. It was too foreign. They didn’t act or say what he expected. Experience told him they were to yell and condemn him—to flay him alive with words for killing Aaron. His mind grappled for an explanation. Maybe he was unconscious and just dreaming—his mind creating the acceptance he so desperately wanted. But the pain he felt in his head, chest, and arms were all too real.
Too many conflicting emotions. This was too much—today was too much. In significant pain and feeling completely overwhelmed, Dan’s eyes slipped closed as he retreated into blackness as the helicopter appeared overhead.
Jim quickly checked Blondie’s vitals—his heart rate was a bit faster and still thready. Jim was glad the evac was here because something was seriously wrong with Blondie. There were physical injuries for sure, but the lack of emotion on his face scared the hell out of Jim. He wished Brody or Blaze were here, they’d know what to do. Brody was the best at pulling Dan back. But Blaze could do it, too. Jim wished with everything that Blaze was here now because he just didn’t know how to help Blondie with the emotional stuff.
His train of thought was interrupted as two soldiers rappelled down. Jim bent down, rechecked the IV and readied Blondie for transport—physical needs first. Perhaps he could call Blaze once he got to the hospital. They’d all been looking for Blondie for the past year and Blaze would be surprised as hell to find out Blondie was in Toronto and on the police force. Hopefully Blaze and Winds were still in country. Blaze would come and help with the emotional shit if he was able to get leave.
