Operation: Healing Angel

by Margaret Kay

“And you’re sending Jackson on a mission tomorrow,” Lassiter remarked. “Is that bothering you?”

  “It’s his job.” He shook his head. “It isn’t bothering me that I’m assigning him to his job.”

  “Does Angel need him at home?” Lassiter asked, watching Shepherd closely.

  “No, she can handle just about anything.”

  “Sam, there’s obviously something going on that is making your subconscious replay that night to you.” He paused and watched Shepherd roll that around. “I know you’ve been in more pain the last few months.”

  “Vic gave me a good massage before my normal therapy session this morning. I don’t feel too bad right now. I woke up with a hell of a zinger, though. Maybe it is the pain triggering the memories.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know.”

  Lassiter was concerned by his uncharacteristic unease. For Sam Shepherd to say he didn’t know, about anything, was a rarity. He was the most decisive and self-confident person Joe Lassiter knew. “Let’s run through the checklist. Are you having any other PTSD symptoms we need to address?”

  “No, just the dream. I don’t tick off any other boxes.”

  “Maybe it is just an anomaly,” Joe said. “Three dreams in one week is not substantial with no other symptoms.” Even as he said it, he knew it was concerning that Shepherd was again having dreams about the moment he was shot. He hadn’t mentioned anything about it in several years. “Before this recent reoccurrence, when was the last time you dreamt of it?”

  Shepherd blew out a breath and shook his head. “I can’t even tell you, years.” He was thoughtful for a moment. “No, that’s not true. I had the dream right after Brielle was abducted from Sherman’s place, so, five or six months ago.”

  “I think it’s a lack of control causing the dream to reoccur. You are not in control of the pain. You were not in control when Brielle was taken or when you and Angel were drugged and transported to that hangar where you were shot. Even though you knew the trackers would lead the team to both you and Angel as well as Brielle, there were variables you couldn’t control, much the same as the pain you’re currently experiencing.”

  Shepherd nodded. “That makes sense. So, the question then becomes, how do I regain control and turn off the damned dream?”

  “Seems to me you already have, by identifying the problem causing it.”

  “Just like that?” Shepherd demanded.

  “What, you want it to be more complicated?” Joe asked with a small grin. “What else is going on, Sam?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Does Vic have a recommendation for someone to replace him? Or have you put out any feelers to find someone?”

  “This is bad timing for both Alpha and Delta Teams to be away. I’ll need the Digital Team to check out Vic’s potential replacements. The person he is recommending isn’t going to work.”

  Lassiter’s lips pulled into a smirk. He’d already decided that. “Why not?”

  “Vic doesn’t think she will come here to treat me, will expect me to come to her office, which is fifteen minutes away. That is time I cannot spare. A one-on-one therapist who comes to me is what has worked and is what I need.”

  “Maybe work with his person thinking of it as temporary while you look for a more permanent person,” Lassiter suggested. “And, it will be good for you to get out of this building a few days a week.”

  Shepherd felt his annoyance increasing. He focused his stare on Lassiter. “You too? I don’t need to leave the building. I have everything I need here.”

  “Fresh air, change of scenery.”

  “Well, that isn’t going to happen while Alpha and Delta Teams are away.”

  Lassiter rose. He didn’t think that they had gotten to the heart of what was bothering Shepherd, but Shepherd wasn’t going to open up any further than he had. He knew him well enough to know that.

  “Joe, do you think I’ve changed since I was shot?”

  “Everyone is constantly changing, growing. If a person does not, they stagnate.”

  “I still think of myself as a soldier focused on the mission. I certainly don’t see myself as some stuffed-shirt executive,” Shepherd admitted.

  Lassiter chuckled. “I don’t think anyone would say you’re a stuffed-shirt executive, not to your face, anyway.”

  “I miss the person I was before the wheelchair.”

  Lassiter retook his seat. “What exactly do you think is the difference between you and that guy?”

  Shepherd ran his fingers through his hair again. He regretted bringing this up. “I used to be one of the guys. I don’t think I have been in a few years.”

  “And that was because you went on missions with the team?”

  “Partly.”

  “Why else?” Lassiter pushed.

  Shepherd shook his head. “I don’t know. I was thinking about it this morning and couldn’t put my finger on it. You know, when John broke the nonfraternization protocol with Miller, he actually stood at attention in front of me and called me sir. That pissed me off. And I think that was the first time I realized that I was no longer one of the guys in the same way I had been.”

  “Sam, I don’t think that had anything to do with you being in the chair and not going on missions. It was more that he’d broken a rule, and even though your relationship with him is different than with most, he was acknowledging that he did and showing you the proper respect as the commanding officer of this agency.” He paused and chuckled. “You were still the boss, even when you were actively going on missions. I guarantee you the men thought differently about you than the rest of the team, out of respect.”

  “Even the pre-mission chatter has decreased. There used to be more joking around and venting in the briefings. I don’t think I did anything to actively discourage it. I’m not sure why it changed.”

  “The men have matured. Their stakes are higher. Many have a wife and a child or one on the way. I think it’s more that they have changed, not you,” Lassiter reported honestly. “Change is a constant, Sam, for you and the members of the team.”

  “I know you’re right,” Shepherd said. “Thank you for your perspective.”

  Lassiter knew that he’d just been dismissed. He came to his feet again. “Give Vic’s referral a chance. Keep an open mind.”

  Shepherd’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the display. It was Vic. “I need to take this.”

  Lassiter nodded and let himself out.

  “This is Shepherd,” he answered his phone.

  “Hi, it’s Vic,” he said, knowing it was not necessary to announce himself any more than it had been necessary for Shepherd to, thanks to caller ID. “I just left Doctor Diana and she has agreed to come see you tomorrow. Her only available time is at seven-thirty a.m. Will that work for you?”

  Shepherd brought his calendar up. He blocked out from zero seven thirty until zero nine thirty. “I’ll make it. Bring her in through the public entrance on five.”

  “Will Angel be in already?”

  “No, but I’ll be sure someone is watching for you.” He would ask Brielle to be in.

  “This is for a consult. She hasn’t agreed to take you on as a full-time patient, but I think after she meets you, she will.”

  Shepherd wasn’t sure what that meant. He chuckled softly. “So, are you warning me I need to be on my best behavior?”

  Vic laughed as well. “No, I’d never ask you to be anything other than yourself. If she can’t work with you, she may have a recommendation of someone else.”

  “Give me the information you have on her so we can run a prelim on her enough to have her cleared to be in tomorrow.”

  After Vic gave him the information on Dr. Diana Palmer, Shepherd dialed Caleb ‘Hound dog’ Smith of the Digital Team and put a high priority on Smith providing him a full dossier on her before zero seven hundred the following morning. He contacted Brielle requesting that she play receptionist from zero seven fifteen through zero eight thirty when Angel would arrive. T
hen he got to work rescheduling a few meetings that had been on his calendar during the time he’d be meeting with Dr. Diana Palmer.

  At zero five hundred, Shepherd’s alarm went off, waking him. He sat up, pleased he had not had the dream again. Perhaps Lassiter was correct. By just identifying the possible reasons that he was having it was enough to stop it. He checked his phone for messages. None. He checked his email. The dossier on Dr. Diana Palmer was in his inbox, along with several dozen other emails. He closed the email. He’d read them while on the treadmill.

  A text chimed in, confirming that the nine members of Alpha and Delta Teams were on board the C-9 at O’Hare International Airport and the plane was next in line to take off. They would transfer to a regular military aircraft at Joint Base Andrews. He tapped out a reply to Cooper’s text, acknowledging receipt of it and wishing the team luck. He hoped the mission went as planned, a quick in and out to extract the informant and his family.

  He needed Alpha Team back at home base. The timing of this Op, his pending visit to Walter Reed, and the upcoming departure of Vic, threw too many unknowns into the staffing mix. If Vic’s replacement wouldn’t come to him, the excess time out of the office would negate him as back up for Ops in addition to all the other meetings and items he handled on a daily basis. He would need Cooper at HQ to run things daily during the few hours he would be out of the office. No, a physical therapist who would not come to him would not work.

  He was on his weight bench ten minutes later, lifting. He still felt frustrated by the physical therapy dilemma, but he tried to release the tension it caused as he focused on his workout. Soon, he got into his groove and he powered through his workout. He transferred himself to the harness and stood atop the treadmill. After he was up to a normal walking speed, he opened his email on his iPad and brought up the dossier on Dr. Diana Palmer.

  Very little impressed Shepherd, but her educational background did. She had spent many years in school as well as in practice. She graduated med school from the University of Wisconsin School of Medicine and Public Health, in Madison. And her residency was there at the UW University Hospital. After, she went back to school and got her doctorate in Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation. Many of her original classes carried over, so the program of study was quite reduced. Then she went to the Palmer College for Chiropractic.

  She opened her practice several years earlier, the Holistic Physical Medicine Center. He brought her website up. She had many pictures of her modern and comfortable facilities. The decorating was in soothing Earth tones. It looked like a calming space. She had a lot of information on her approach and mindset regarding health. Simple fact, it is easier to stay well than to get well. A lot of her focus was on preventing illness and injury. Too late for him on that account.

  Her bio page on the website echoed much of the personal and educational information in the bio. He wondered if Smith had just cannibalized her website for the data. The other thing on her bio page was her photo, a woman who looked at least ten years younger than her forty years. The other thing he couldn’t help but notice was that she was beautiful. Her soft blue eyes sparkled with life. Her complexion glowed with radiance and health. Her body was trim, appeared athletic in build. And the hobbies that she had listed made him smile. She enjoyed outdoor activities like hiking, skiing, kayaking and canoeing. He looked forward to meeting her.

  After he had studied the dossier on her at length, including the fact that she had passed their security review, he opened his other morning reports. He was showered and redressed in physical therapy clothing by seven hundred. He rolled into the office he had in his penthouse. He’d work from there until Vic and Dr. Diana Palmer arrived.

  He got the notice that Brielle checked into the calendar system, indicating she was in the building at zero seven fifteen. He sent her a text. “Please text me when Vic and the doctor arrive and please escort them to my penthouse.”

  “Will do,” she replied.

  Dr. Diana Palmer ran her fingers through her hair, pushing a few blond strands from her face as the elevator doors closed. She was uncharacteristically nervous. She glanced at Vic. “So, you normally go in through a private entrance?”

  “Yes, but Shepherd asked me to bring you in through the public entrance just like I had to for the first few weeks I worked with him. It’s a security thing.”

  “Shepherd Security Agency,” Diana mumbled. “Just what exactly do they do?”

  Vic gazed at the numbers scrolling up. The door opened on five. “Look, Diana, as I told you, don’t ask too many questions. I know they do armed security at various places, cyber security, and other things. I signed a confidentiality agreement, which he’ll ask you to sign too. I’ve heard portions of calls that Shepherd has taken when I was working with him. He’s had me step out of the room to take other calls. Even just walking through the hallway, I’ve seen or heard snippets of things that I’ve never asked about.”

  “Those are more reasons for him to come to my office and for me to not provide him any treatments here.” She stepped out of the elevator behind him. A big black door with Shepherd Security in gold lettering was the only marked door in sight.

  “Keep an open mind. He’s a nice guy who really needs your help. I know I am missing something that you can figure out.”

  “I’ll want to see x-rays, MRI and CT scans before I even touch him,” she said as she followed Vic into the outer office waiting room.

  “We can do that. There are sets of his x-rays and scans down in the medical suite. I’m sure he will give us access to them.” He saw Brielle sitting in Angel’s chair. He flashed her a smile and threw a wave in the air.

  “The medical suite?” She asked.

  “Down on the fourth floor they have a medical suite for their people.” He turned his attention to Brielle and stepped near the door that led to the inner suite. “Hi Brielle. We have a seven thirty appointment with Shepherd.”

  The door buzzed. He pulled it open, and he motioned Diana to enter in front of him.

  Diana stepped through, glancing around at the very normal looking interior office. “Hi,” she said as she smiled at the young woman who sat behind the desk just within the door.

  “Hi,” she replied, coming to her feet. She presented her hand. “I’m Brielle. I’ll escort you to Shepherd’s penthouse.” She had an accent that Diana couldn’t place.

  “We’d like to swing through the medical suite first, Brielle. Doctor Diana would like to see Shepherd’s x-rays and other scans first,” Vic said.

  “I’m sure that’s fine,” Brielle said. She lifted her cell phone from the desk and tapped out a text message. Diana’s gaze locked with her dark brown eyes. The text tone chimed. “Yes, he said we can go there first. Follow me, please.”

  Diana followed her down the long hallway. She glanced into a few rooms as they passed them. There was a kitchenette, a conference room, and a few offices. They went down a stairwell. Diana watched Brielle press her palm to a plate and enter a code into a keypad. She pushed the door open and Diana followed her through. She glanced around the hallway as she followed Brielle to another door that required the palm and keypad routine again. Wow, Vic was not kidding. The security in this building was crazy!

  Vic knew right where the x-rays and other scans were in one of the computers in an office behind a door labeled A. Williams. Brielle logged into the computer and then stepped back for Vic to access files.

  “I have all the files open.” He stepped back from the computer and let Diana sit. “The bullet fragment was lodged near L-4, L-5,” Vic said.

  “I see signs of damage to other places too,” she said as she continued to study the x-rays and then flip through the screens of the MRI and CT scans. She took her time and studied them.

  “From what I understand the round that he was shot with fragmented all through his abdomen,” Vic said.

  “Yes, I see substantial damage.” She stood when she was finished.

  Brielle moved in, closed th
e files and shut the computer down. Diana followed Brielle and Vic to the elevator. Inside, Brielle had to do the palm press and enter the code into the keypad again to be able to press ten, the top number. Diana took a deep breath as she stepped out of the elevator and into the hallway. She followed Brielle and Vic around the corner and to the only door in the hallway. Another of those plates and keypads were beside it. Vic did the pressing of his palm and entering a code this time.

  Diana found it interesting that Vic had this kind of access in this overly secure building. Of course, he had been working with Colonel Shepherd for over four years. As Vic opened the door, a startling sensation of uneasiness swept through her at the prospect of meeting this man who Vic had portrayed as being powerful and private, the man who lived in this locked-down building. But her curiosity as she viewed this man’s home overrode it.