Intensive Care Crisis

by Karen Kirst

  One way in. One way out.

  As soon as Audrey’s feet met the ground, she sprinted along the bridge. Julian kept pace.

  Not surprised to find the door locked, he kicked at the standard, cheap handle and splintered the wood frame. At his urging, Audrey wedged inside first. He hadn’t expected the space to be littered with storage.

  Without a word, he started scooting artificial Christmas trees in front of the door to obstruct Gerald’s progress—if he chose to enter after them. If it had been Julian, he would find another way inside in order to avoid an ambush.

  “What now?” Audrey demanded, shoving boxes in between the trees.

  The shadows were deepening inside the building. “There are too many windows,” he muttered, shaking his head. “But at least he won’t have a clear view.”

  “We’re almost completely surrounded by water,” she added, grimacing. “It’s not as deep or treacherous as the ocean, though.”

  They maneuvered between stacks of plastic bins and folding chairs. He listened for foreign sounds that would clue him into Gerald’s whereabouts.

  He pointed at the doors flanking the stage. “What’s behind those?”

  “I think one leads to the kitchen and prep area. And I recall bathrooms being back there.” She twisted around. “Where’s Gerald?”

  “Probably looking for a different entrance.”

  “Should we exit the way we came?”

  A distinctive, familiar sound registered, followed by splintering glass. “Get down!”

  Julian dragged Audrey to the parquet floor and told her to crawl to the closest door and get herself through it. He skidded behind a plastic bin and returned fire.

  “Julian,” she called, waving him over. “Hurry!”

  Still under attack, he dashed to where she waited, then snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her into the hallway. Or what he’d thought was a hallway.

  “It’s a dead end.”

  The three walls surrounding them offered scant options.

  Window on their right. Sheetrock ahead. Bathroom on their left.

  “Watch out!” she cried.

  The window shattered, spewing glass shards at them. Audrey pushed open the bathroom door. They hurried inside for what would be a brief reprieve.

  They were trapped.

  “That wasn’t Gerald, was it?” she said. “It was one of the twins.”

  He didn’t have a chance to respond. The door swung open. He squeezed Audrey into the largest stall and, sending up a plea for help, pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Out of ammo.

  The hulking man smirked and prepared to unload in Julian’s chest.

  Julian wasn’t ready to die. He had too much life to live. Life with Audrey, if she’d have him.

  A perfectly placed jab in the neck stunned Sergei long enough for Julian to strike a second time, sending his weapon clattering to the floor. He belted his cheek with his pistol butt. The big man turned purple and charged. Julian twisted on his heel at the last possible second and helped his forward motion along, slamming him into the wall.

  Dazed, Sergei sank onto the floor and clutched his head.

  Sirens raged in the distance. As much as he dreaded the inevitable confrontation with law enforcement, he welcomed the assistance.

  “Julian, look.” Audrey had discovered a curtain in the stall, the same color as the wall paint, that hid a door. She opened it. “A closet? There’s another door leading somewhere. The stage or kitchen, maybe.”

  Approaching footsteps outside the bathroom spurred him on. They entered the storage room and closed and locked the door behind them. Audrey turned around, bumped into something and screamed.

  He placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her back against him, impatient for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. “What’s wrong?”

  “That.” Shuddering, she poked at a tall silhouette. “Why would they store a mannequin in here?”

  The knob rattled behind them. Skirting around the life-size mannequin, they navigated the tight space and emerged onto the stage.

  “Sergei, I see them!”

  Julian grabbed her hand again and made for the kitchen door this time. The hallway wasn’t a dead end like the other one. He burst into the room first, only to skid to a stop.

  Gerald was waiting for them.

  “Sergeant Tan. Miss Harris. Time to join your friend Chasity.”

  There was no chance to react. No chance to block Audrey.

  He shot her right in front of him.

  Her lips parted, and her eyes locked onto Julian. Shock and regret swirled in the blue depths. She grabbed onto the counter but couldn’t hold on.

  Julian’s vision blinked in and out. He launched himself over the island and rammed his feet into Gerald’s chest. Within seconds, he had the older man beneath him on the ground, disarmed and at the mercy of his fists.

  He didn’t register the motion around him. Didn’t care if the twins were about to end him.

  The woman he loved would be avenged.

  * * *

  Audrey called Julian’s name. Her voice sounded weak to her ears.

  He didn’t hear her. Police officers spilled into the industrial kitchen and separated him from Gerald. They kneeled beside her and instructed her to remain still until help arrived.

  She tried to sit up. “I’m okay.”

  “You’ll have to be checked out by a medical professional, ma’am.”

  An officer shifted, granting her a better glimpse of him. Blood dripped down his arm from the wound he’d suffered earlier. He was in handcuffs.

  The sight sickened her. “He’s innocent.”

  His head whipped in her direction, and his gaze, hazy with fury, sharpened and cleared. His jaw lost its lethal rigidity. His mouth softened.

  “Audrey—” He strained toward her.

  Still on the floor, she used her waning energy to reach out to him. But he was escorted through the open door and out into the night.

  Pain belatedly speared her side. “He’s done nothing wrong.”

  They didn’t heed her words as they revived Gerald and, after brief questioning, took him outside.

  The EMTs arrived then and loaded her onto a stretcher. She asked about her dad, but their lips were clamped tight. If she wasn’t injured, she’d be in handcuffs, too.

  The journey across the bridge was far from comfortable. With each jolt and bump, her nausea and pain increased. She couldn’t see anything besides treetops and twinkling stars above due to the neck brace.

  “Audrey!”

  The EMTs slowed their pace as her dad jogged to her side. He looked as if he’d aged ten years in half an hour.

  “Audrey, where are you hurt?”

  “My side. It’s not bad.” She clung to his warm, calloused hand. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. “Are you okay?”

  “Captain Brady returned in the nick of time. He saved me.”

  “We told him to stay away,” she murmured. “Did you see Julian?”

  His eyes became hooded. “He can handle himself.”

  “Dad—”

  “We can’t delay any longer.” The men in charge of her care started forward again.

  Trent walked faster. “I’ll follow you to the hospital.”

  “Don’t let them release Gerald,” she called. “Tell them everything.”

  At the hospital, Audrey’s wound was assessed and treated. She was fortunate, the ER doctor told her, that surgery wasn’t required. The bullet went straight through and didn’t do damage.

  A pair of detectives grilled her for what seemed like hours until her father—his patience exhausted—intruded on their interrogation. They informed her they weren’t arresting her, but she was required to stay in town until they said otherwise.

  “Did yo
u bring me a change of clothes?” She peeled off the hospital-issue blanket and searched for her shoes.

  Trent stared at her in consternation. “Where do you think you’re going? You haven’t been discharged.”

  “Dad, Julian’s in danger. Remember we told you about Officer Craddock?”

  “Sergeant Tan has been transferred to Camp Lejeune. He’s in military-police custody. Gerald and his cohorts are being interrogated at the Jacksonville police station.”

  “They won’t mistreat him, will they? Do you think they tended his wound?”

  “Audrey.” His voice and face sharpened. “Your only concern should be your recovery.”

  His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw heavy with scruff—not a typical look for him. While she was impatient for answers, she understood what she’d put him through. Days of not knowing whether she was alive or dead. For much of her life, it had been dad and daughter against the world. He must’ve been out of his mind with heartache and worry.

  She reached for him, and he took her hand. “I’m going to be fine, you know.”

  Blinking fast, he angled his face toward the window and cleared his throat. When he looked at her again, his eyes were moist. “I thank God for bringing you back to me.”

  “There were times I was sure we weren’t going to make it out alive,” she admitted. “But God delivered us.” She took a deep breath. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I love Julian.”

  His stance lost some of its starch. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

  “Do you have any objections to him as a person? Or is it simply the fact he’s a marine?”

  “He’s a fine marine,” he hedged.

  “He’s a decorated hero,” she amended. “More than that, he’s a good man. Julian’s noble. Brave. Thoughtful and supportive. He’s movie-star handsome—”

  “You’ve made your point,” he drawled. “I worried you wouldn’t risk your heart again after Seth. You were alone for a very long time. But couldn’t you have fallen for a civilian?”

  “He’s the one for me, Dad. I have to see him.” She had to tell him what was in her heart, even if he didn’t reciprocate her feelings. “Will you take me to him?”

  Trent reluctantly agreed. On the way to the base, he told her he’d seen Chasity.

  The detectives had deigned to answer her questions about her friend. Gerald had made them think she’d died. She had actually survived the accident, but her prognosis was dire.

  “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

  “She’s in a coma.”

  If she ever came out of it, she’d spend the rest of her life in prison. A tragedy and a waste. “It’s difficult for me to fathom how she could’ve gotten caught up in something so terrible. She had a bright future, and now she’s stuck in a hospital bed attached to tubes and machines.” A fresh wave of grief washed over her. “Have you heard anything about Lincoln?”

  “He’s in custody, trading valuable information for promised leniency.”

  “He’ll still spend a good chunk of his life in prison.”

  “Yes.”

  “And Officer Craddock?”

  Trent scowled. “Brady turned Craddock’s phone over to the department. I haven’t heard anything more.”

  “Brady won’t be charged for aiding us, I hope.”

  The captain was waiting for them outside PMO headquarters. He rushed to assist her out of the car. “You’re looking peaked,” he exclaimed. “You shouldn’t have left the hospital.”

  Audrey dismissed his concern with a wave of her hand. She was weak, granted, and sore, but there was no reason to lounge in bed and be poked and prodded unnecessarily. “Have you seen him?”

  Brady’s expression solemn, he placed his arm gently around her shoulders and turned her toward the door. “He’s somewhere in the building. That’s all I know.”

  “What about you? Are you okay?”

  “I’m not going to be disciplined for helping my friends, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  After everything that had happened, Audrey considered Brady a friend, as well. She couldn’t express how much his selfless support meant to her.

  A cold breeze tousled her unbound hair. “Go inside before you get pneumonia,” Trent said.

  “You aren’t coming?”

  He cupped her upper arms and smiled down at her. “You and Sergeant Tan have things to sort out. Once that’s done, I’ll have a word with him.”

  “Dad—”

  “I’m allowed to tell him to take care of my daughter, aren’t I?”

  “He may not feel the same way I do.”

  “Impossible.”

  Brady flashed a rare grin. “I have to concur with Gunny Harris. Julian is mad about you. Anyone with eyes can see that.”

  Audrey entered the waiting area first, approached the reception desk and set about getting answers. The young marine behind the counter was polite but evasive. Frustration mounted. She wanted—no, needed—to see for herself that Julian was all right.

  She didn’t see the side door open, but she heard the commotion—camera flashes and questions hurled by a military newspaper reporter.

  Holding her breath, she turned and saw him surrounded by other marines.

  Her heart swelled with gratitude. He was fine. Dirty and dusty, his brown-black hair mussed, he looked worn out but unharmed. No handcuffs in sight.

  “Julian.”

  At the sound of her voice, he pushed forward, strode across the room and hauled her into his arms.

  * * *

  Julian could hardly contain his joy at being in her presence. He’d ached to see her, talk to her, hold her.

  Remembering her injury, he released her. She was too pale for his liking. “You should be at the hospital.”

  “I had to see you. I was worried.”

  He gently smoothed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I’m not the one who got shot at close range. Are you in pain?”

  “Not with the medication they gave me.” She inspected the fresh bandage around his biceps. “I’m happy to see they treated your arm.”

  The camera snapped again, reminding him they had an audience. He sought out Brady, who understood what he was trying to communicate. His friend strode to the reception desk, spoke to the marine and then ushered them through another door and into a private office. When they were alone, Audrey ignored his suggestion to sit. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest.

  “Is it really over?”

  He returned her embrace and, smoothing her hair, kissed the crown of her head. “There will be more questions, but our names will be cleared and our reputations restored.”

  Thank You, Lord Jesus, for Your protection and deliverance from this fiery trial.

  “The danger has passed?”

  “I was told Lincoln is singing like a canary. The names of the dirty cops have been collected. Gerald and the twins are behind bars. Josef is dead. He didn’t survive the crash. And the warehouse is being raided as we speak.”

  A tiny shudder worked through her. She lifted her head and gazed up at him. “So this is an appropriate time to tell you that being friendly neighbors isn’t enough anymore?”

  His heart kicked against his ribs. He soaked in her features. She was so beautiful, so dear to him. “What are you saying, Audrey?”

  “I don’t want to go back to the way things were. I want to be with you. Do normal things like watch movies or go to restaurants. No exotic animals and no guns.”

  He caressed her silken cheek. “Our instructors preached the importance of not crossing personal lines in a protective duty assignment. I crossed them all, every single one.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “Do you regret it?”

  “What?” He sucked in a harsh breath. “No, not at all. How could I? I fel
l in love with you, Audrey.”

  A tender smile brightened her features. “My honorable warrior.” She framed his face and tipped up her mouth to his. “Oh, how I love you.”

  Julian hadn’t known the power of those words when spoken by a woman he both admired and adored. A sense of belonging, of partnership and true, lasting connection filled him with confidence. He would no longer live in fear of failure or according to other peoples’ expectations. He’d live for love and family, the one he hoped to build with Audrey.

  She kissed him then, and the worry and stress of the last few weeks evaporated.

  Audrey loved him. Nothing else mattered.

  EPILOGUE

  Four months later

  “What are we doing here?” Audrey turned to the young woman behind the wheel. “I thought you wanted to go to the mall.”

  One of Julian’s sisters, Melanie, shrugged and opened the driver’s side door of her rental. “You don’t like this restaurant?”

  Through the windshield, she considered the stucco building and the shimmering water beyond the dock.

  “It’s actually a favorite of mine.” Closing her door, she had to hurry to catch up to the black-haired beauty. “Did Julian recommend it?”

  “He mentioned it once.” Slowing, she hooked her arm through Audrey’s and beamed at her. “I hope you don’t mind the detour.”

  “I’d rather eat here than the food court, anyway.”

  “Good.”

  “I’m glad you came for a visit,” Audrey told her. “I wish you could stay longer, though.”

  Melanie had arrived almost two weeks ago. Audrey’s initial nervousness about meeting one of Julian’s sisters had quickly dissipated. She was outgoing and genuine, and they shared a love of bookstores, cooking shows and shoes.

  “I’m counting on seeing you again soon.” Smiling, she nudged her shoulder.

  Before she could ask about her future travel plans, they reached the entrance to the deck where guests could enjoy outdoor seating. Every table was vacant except the last one, which was tucked in the far corner and framed by hot pink azalea bushes.