by Laura Acton
The nurse was more than happy to comply. She immediately set to her work and delicately washed the blood from his body and rinsed it from his hair. She left no trace of the other man’s blood on the young constable. One of the orderlies stripped off the blood- and vomit-splattered gown placing it in an evidence bag. He was about to put on a clean one when Gambrill stopped him.
“A favor, please. Dress him in pants of some sort and a t-shirt. He will feel more comfortable and more in control. It’s important,” Walter implored looking directly at the nurse in charge.
The orderly hesitated and looked questioningly at the nurse who nodded as she said, “I’ll see if I can find something, scrubs maybe.”
She was about to go when Jerry, the orderly, piped up, “We’re about the same size. I have a clean pair of comfortable sweats and t-shirt in my locker. I don’t mind, it’s a small thing I can do.”
The nurse smiled and nodded as Jerry trotted off to get them. They knew who this officer was from the news accounts and after all he’d gone through yesterday they wanted to help in any way they could.
When Jerry returned with the clothes they transferred Dan to a new bed, one not covered in blood. Then dressed Dan quickly in a pair of very soft dark gray sweats, a black t-shirt, and a pair of warm socks. Jerry had also grabbed the socks out of his locker also because just as he left to get the clothes his hand had brushed against the officer’s feet. They were ice cold.
It was another small comfort he could offer this officer. Jerry had learned that sometimes it was the small things had the greatest impact. When he was dressed, Jerry and the nurse covered Dan with a warm blanket. Then Dan was moved to another room and reattached to the monitors.
St. Michael Hospital – ICU – Outside Room D – 3:25 a.m.
Officer Fargusson had watched quietly, standing out of the way. Once Dan was in the new room, he moved the chair to the front of it and promptly took up position. He would only allow the medical staff entry—no one else, not even the Commander. The kid needed rest and quiet and Marc would make sure he got it—even if it cost him his job or his life.
Gambrill watched silently as the medical staff did their work. Dan was too young to have had this much pain. It hurt watching what it did to him.
Until now he had carefully hidden the fact that Dan was his godson and that he’d known Dan since he was born. He didn’t want to cause Dan any issues at TRF like those he had to endure in Special Forces being the son of the General. Walter realized he’d undone that earlier tonight by giving details of Sara’s death to Alpha Team. He was sure Nick would ask him about it. And now it was in the record of this incident. He prayed it wouldn’t cause Dan more problems.
Director Reed Caldwell and Agent Kendall Stevens carefully approached Gambrill outside Dan’s new room. Stevens could see he was deeply affected by what had just happened to Dan. Who wasn’t?
The haunting words Dan spoke before passing out had hit Kendall the hardest. Dan was talking to his dead friend, the one he had accidentally killed, asking for help, the one he had accidentally killed. She was scared by what he meant when he said ‘Wait for me. I’m coming’. Did it mean he was planning on joining Brody? She hoped not.
Gambrill looked at them and said, “Alpha Team is going to want our hides for this one. I don’t blame them. We promised them he would be safe. Made them leave. We nearly got him killed. Dan would be dead now if Donner didn’t turn the gun on himself. I screwed up.”
Stevens had trouble maintaining her composure as she spoke, “Sir, I’m so sorry. I knew Donner was losing it, but I never imagined this. We screwed up.” Kendall felt that she shouldered part of the blame.
“Walter, if we can be of any help just let me know. This is just so, so ... hell, I have no words for what this is. I had no idea Donner was that far over the edge. What did you mean he was the son of the driver that killed Sara?” Caldwell asked guardedly.
“Caldwell, we may need to push the interview sessions out a day or so. I trust you will allow Alpha Team and the Special Forces men access to Broderick. I’ll be assigning Alpha Team as protection detail beginning tomorrow. Consider the Special Forces men as his family,” Gambrill stated decisively choosing to ignore his question about Sara, for now at least.
Realizing he wasn’t going to get an answer to his Sara question, Director Caldwell responded, “It’s outside protocol. But given that this is all way outside protocol, I’ll agree on the condition that they don’t speak with him regarding the shootings until he has been interviewed.”
Reed Caldwell sighed, this was the damnedest situation he’d ever come across as Director of NRB. “But we must speak with Broderick as soon as possible—he’s the only one that can shed light on how Constable Plouffe and the two subjects died. Aaron’s family needs to know what happened.”
“Agreed, but I won’t push Dan at this time. He’s in a fragile state, both mentally and physically. His well-being is my priority,” Gambrill returned. Walter’s mind was already shifting gears to the call he had to make to William. It wasn’t one he was looking forward to making.
Caldwell and Stevens stood watching Dan for a few moments then reluctantly took their leave. Stevens said she would check in at one to see if Alpha Team was available for interviews and if not, she’d reschedule them.
Gambrill pulled out his phone and dialed a number from memory. It rang three times before being answered.
“Broderick.”
“Hello, Will.”
“Walter, is that you? What are you doing calling at this hour … Daniel? Is Daniel okay?” William asked. It was three thirty in the morning for Walter and his voice sounded strained. The only reason he’d call at this hour was Daniel.
“Yes, it’s Walt. He’s not doing well, was talking to Brody.”
“Talking to Brody? What do you mean?” William asked as he rose and started to pace in his office.
Gambrill gave William a synopsis of the full day including what just occurred with Donner.
William had stopped pacing mid-way through the dissertation and stared out his office window at the barren desert. His heart was aching. William’s voice came out calm and held no reflection of his inner turmoil, “My God. Daniel, my son. Will it ever stop? Why does all this happen to him?”
The General didn’t expect an answer to his rhetorical questions and Walter didn’t offer any platitudes. They both knew how much Daniel had dealt with in his twenty-eight years. It was more than any one person should have to bear and it all started when Daniel was just a child.
William took a deep breath. “So physically he will mend. It’s the emotional that you’re concerned about.”
Walter stared at Dan through the glass and responded, “Yes, although I believe his team will help him with that. You know how resilient Dan is. It’s just … Will, I never knew. If I’d known I would’ve told you, but I didn’t.”
“Walter, what is it? You’re rambling—that’s not like you. I can tell you’re concerned about something else,” William stated.
“Yes, I’m concerned. We might have a problem.”
“With Alpha Team?”
“No not that. That’s resolved. Nicely too. They have his back. You should’ve seen them in action today. Quite impressive,” Walter stated, feeling both pride and exhaustion.
“Then what? Explain.”
Walter walked to a quiet corner so he wouldn’t be overheard. “It’s related to what you shared with me—your suspicion about a certain person. The pit of my stomach is roiling, but I have nothing tangible to back up my feeling. If your suspicion is right, Dan might be at risk. I only found out something today when I visited the parents of my slain officer.”
“I’m not following you, Walter. How could my suspicion of a certain person be related in any way with one of your officers? And why do you think Daniel is at risk?” William asked as he sat down in his chair.
So many things were running in William’s head. Pletcher was last seen in Vancouver yesterday m
orning. He could’ve traveled to Toronto by now. Hammer’s unit was on his trail, but had not gotten a solid lead yet.
Walter leaned heavily on the wall for support. “The constable that died … he was related to the person you are concerned about.”
William surged to his feet. The officer was related to Major Plouffe? “How is he related?”
“My constable was his nephew. Will, I swear I didn’t know. It’s a common enough name.”
William started to pace as pieces of a puzzle he’d been struggling with for years began to fall into place. He strode to his desk, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out a file folder. He flipped it open and stared at the photo on top. “How did you find this out?”
“I saw him as Sergeant Pastore and I were leaving the officer’s parent’s home after informing them of his death. I only made the connection because he was in uniform and wearing the tan beret,” Walter explained.
Gambrill rubbed the back of his aching neck as a stress headache was forming. “I’m going to have Dan’s team assigned as protection detail after they get some sleep. I have a patrol officer on his room for tonight. Do you think I’m over reacting?”
William stared at the words on the note that accompanied the last picture. His gut churned. “No, I don’t think so. In fact, I’m going to send a unit to provide protection for Daniel. Something is seriously wrong here and my gut is telling me that he’s involved. Like you, I have no proof, but I’m not about to leave Daniel vulnerable. Someone has targeted him. I’m sure of it. I just don’t know why or who. It could be related to the villain that went after Becca, too.”
“Will, the unit that provided the air-evac … that was Captain Blain.”
“You’re kidding me?”
“No. No, I’m not. You should’ve seen them tonight. The paramedic just happens to be an old unit mate, too—Jim Shea.”
“Patch was there?” William leaned heavily on his desk. Disbelief flooding in. “What do you mean I should’ve seen them? Were they indifferent, hostile? Do I need to send—”
Walter cut him off. “William, stop. It’s all good. All three of them were so protective. It was amazing to see. Blain nearly strangled Donner when he said they couldn’t go see Dan and called Dan a murderer.” Walter smirked. “Damn, I should’ve let him strangle Donner—”
It was William’s turn to interrupt. He chuckled. “Not your style, you save, I kill. If what you say is true about Blain? Then I’ll make the arrangements to assign Blain and Simons as protection detail.”
Walter blew out a breath. “I’m going to have to tell Dan’s team. I can’t have my team in the dark. They need to be aware of the possible threat. You know, they’re damned good at investigating things. Pastore and McKenna could do a profile for you. Baldovino and Palomo are good at digging out information. Hardy and De Haven, well, I think they’d give any of your SF boys a run for their money in tactics.
“There’s the added benefit that they’re invested in Dan. And … and this is a big one … if you do have a problem in your community, they are free of that taint. They are outsiders with only Dan’s best interests at heart. You can trust them implicitly.”
William listened. He really listened. He wasn’t sure who was friend or foe inside Special Forces at the moment. There was a leak somewhere. Someone had inside information. Every one of the damned photos arrived in conjunction with something that was classified.
“Send me their full names and personnel records. I need to get them security clearances before I can involve them in this. You can inform his team that there is an undefined threat and that’s why Daniel is being put under protection.” William sighed deeply. “Walter, take care of my boy, please. I’ve screwed up at every turn with him. Someday, I hope he can forgive me. I’m flying to Toronto. Brief your team and Blain at zero six hundred and I’ll provide more detail when I get there. It should be by eighteen hundred.”
“I’ll do my best, William. I’ll see you soon.” After exchanging goodbyes, Gambrill hung up the phone.
Walter was beyond weary, but he wouldn’t be going home tonight. He needed to send William the requested details so he could bring Alpha Team up to speed. He sent a silent prayer to God to keep Danny safe. Walter looked down the hall at the patrol officer.
He took a deep breath and straightened up. Walter strode with purpose down the hall and stopped at his godson’s room. He glanced at Dan who appeared to be sleeping peacefully now.
Shifting his gaze to Officer Fargusson, Walter directed, “If Constable Broderick wakes and wants to leave the hospital, he will find a way to leave. Of that there is absolutely no doubt even if it’s against medical advice. If he tries to leave, you’re to tell him you have orders to take him to TRF headquarters. Tell him that is the only place you’re allowed to take him and that if he is well enough to leave the hospital, he is ordered to appear at TRF headquarters for debriefing immediately. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir. But may I ask you something?” Fargusson looked skeptical.
“Yes,” Gambrill replied.
“Why would that work? And why TRF headquarters?” he asked.
Gambrill answered, “Broderick always follows orders. It’s ingrained in him. Be sure you use the term ‘ordered’. This is for his protection. He hates hospitals and in his current condition he needs protection. He will get that at TRF HQ.”
Gambrill took one last look at Dan, sighed deeply, then turned to leave. An afterthought struck him and turned back to the officer, “You are on protection detail until you’re relieved only by someone from Alpha Team only or you drop him off at TRF headquarters. Do you remember what they look like?”
“Yes, Sir. Never will forget their faces,” Fargusson responded. He wouldn’t ever forget them. Watching them all tonight had seared their faces in his mind.
“Good. Please keep him safe.” With that, Gambrill turned and left. Tomorrow, well actually in a few hours he would have to face Dan’s team and fill them in on this. It wasn’t going to be pretty.
Chapter Thirty
July 16
Patch’s Apartment – 3:40 a.m.
Blaze lay on the couch in the quiet, dark living room of Patch’s apartment just staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep because his mind was too active. Also because he had a gut feeling something wasn’t right. But try as he might, he couldn’t make it coherent.
After arriving at Patch’s place several hours ago, they’d all showered. Patch lent them a pair of sweats, not the greatest fit, but good enough to wear while they laundered their uniforms. It had felt good to get cleaned up after the long, hot, grimy day they’d had training and then evacuating Blondie. God, that had been such a surprise.
While Winds started the laundry and Patch was in the kitchen making them something to eat, Blaze had checked in with Major White again. When he updated the Major on Blondie’s condition and requested a two-day leave, the Major granted it no questions asked. That was a bit odd, but then again, Major White knew and liked Blondie. It was good that Blondie had people in his corner, even though the General wasn’t. Patch had also called into his boss to request the next week off. After explaining why, his boss was very obliging and he was surprised Patch knew the now famous Constable Broderick.
They’d watched a bit of the news coverage reruns as they ate. Blondie’s face was plastered all over the news. Blaze had felt a sense of pride when he watched Blondie carry that little girl to her mother. Blondie had a soft heart for children. His first glimpse of that had been their mission to rescue Dom’s girls.
Hearing the bank manager say ‘beauty of life’ had nearly undone all three of them. Brody always said that to Blondie. They’d all shared a look and knew that they needed to make sure Blondie knew that they didn’t blame him for Brody’s death—it was a tragic accident—Brody shouldn’t have been there.
Once they finished eating, he and Winds stretched out on the couches and Patch went to his bedroom. Blaze heard Winds’ soft regular breathing long ago, bu
t Blaze couldn’t fall asleep and just lay there staring at the ceiling—it was out of character for him and he was bugged by it.
He couldn’t sleep because his mind kept returning to Blondie. It was a real puzzle. How come they couldn’t find him for a year, yet he was here the whole time? Someone was manipulating information. The techie, Loki, had told them while they were waiting that he’d done a deep search on Blondie after he’d joined the team and came up blank. Loki had blushed when he said it—that man was interesting. A mix of Brody and Patch—funny and an open book—easy to read.
Loki’s results sure meshed with Blaze’s results when he’d had his contacts searching for Blondie. On one hand, it looked and smelt like blackout protocol. But never had someone been on blackout protocol and been left in the open unguarded—and his name and details were splashed all over the news. That wasn’t how the Guardian units worked. If someone was on blackout, they were in protective custody or on a black ops mission and nothing was allowed out.
Blackout protocol was the reason why Blaze never knew what happened to Daphne. His sister was in covert ops. When she’d failed to report in, everything buttoned down tighter than a drum. It was like his sister had never existed. Then she’d been declared dead. That hurt like hell when he was informed of that. Daphne was the last of his natural family. He’d been more of a father to her than brother—he’d raised her after their parents died.
Blaze still missed his little sister, but pushed thoughts of Daphy down for now. He returned to his current dilemma—Blondie. Blaze had experience with blackout protocols and something just wasn’t right. It burned his gut.
What the hell was General Badass doing? Blaze sighed. When no answers came to the forefront of his mind, Blaze realized that he wasn’t gonna figure that out right now. He was extremely tired from his long day, so Blaze forced himself to slow his breathing and relax.
Blaze’s eyes had just barely closed—sleep finally within reach—when his phone vibrated. Instantly awake again, Blaze picked up the phone, noted the time displayed 03:40, and answered, “Captain Blain.”
