by Laura Acton
“Sort of.”
Jon wondered what kind of answer that was. He waited with interest.
“Well, an almost familial relationship doesn’t cut it here. We follow all the rules to maintain patient privacy.”
Using his calm tone, Nick directed, “Please check your records. You will find I am listed as Constable Broderick’s emergency advocate and duly noted to make medical decisions on his behalf.”
Checking the computer database, she confirmed the Sergeant’s claim. “I’ll go find out if there is any update on his condition. Wait here.”
Jon stared at Nick dumbfounded. “Nick?”
Quietly, Nick explained, “Dan asked me to be his proxy about a month ago because Human Resources hounded him to fill in his emergency details. He’s not on speaking terms with his family, and they don’t live in Toronto anyway. Dan requested I keep this to myself. So, I would appreciate it if you don’t let on I told you.” Nick removed his ballcap and raked his fingers through his hair at the temples. “Let the rest of the team believe my handsome appearance garnered the details.”
Jon snorted and shook his head. “Might be more believable if we say your silver tongue. But, you know I’ll keep it quiet. I’m surprised he asked you. I would’ve thought Bram would be his choice.”
“I’ll tell you how it happened later.” Nick put his hat back on when the grumpy nurse returned.
“Constable Broderick is in surgery. It will be another hour or two depending on how it goes. I informed the surgical coordinator you’re here and waiting, in case there is a need, and so he can update you when surgery is finished.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Nick pivoted and headed back to the waiting area with Jon to share the news with his teammates.
Mercy Hospital – ER Waiting Room – 4:40 p.m.
Three hours later found Lexa dozing against Bram’s shoulder. She paced for nearly two of those hours and wore herself out. Bram insisted she sit after they received the latest update an hour ago.
Bram, also half asleep, leaned his head against the wall, unable to dismiss the thoughts running through his mind. He couldn’t erase the image of Dan’s eyes. The longer he sat here waiting, the more concerned Bram became. Their last update indicated surgery would be taking longer than expected but provided no specifics as to why.
Loki and Ray appeared to be supporting each other. Loki doted on Ray relieved he was not gravely injured, fully cognizant it could’ve been a bullet and not oil. He might be planning a burial for his friend now instead of bringing him coffee.
Ray indulged his friend’s solicitous behavior after witnessing the fear in Loki’s eyes when his sight first returned. Allowing him to run simple errands, not only allowed Loki’s anxiety level to decrease if only slightly, but it also permitted some of his nervous energy to burn off as they waited. But now after what seemed to be forever, an ordinarily calm and patient Ray found his apprehension increasing too.
In addition, Ray dealt with rising guilt. I should’ve been more vigilant. I know how the BDC operates and should’ve realized Kash would attempt to flee if he believed he possessed a means of escape. If I had been more careful, Dan wouldn’t have been chasing after Kash in the first place.
Ray wished Guns and Gangs would shut down the Blooddrop Crew once and for all, but gangs were like roaches. They hid in all the dark, dank places and only a few popped out to be visible, but unseen … dozens more lived among them.
Jon and Nick had moved off to one side and spoke in soft tones to not be overheard by the others.
“So, he actually asked you?” Jon couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact the rookie would request such a thing from Nick.
Nick nodded. “Yeah. I found him in the locker room hours after shift one night, shortly after the elevator nap incident. Dan appeared entirely absorbed and didn’t acknowledge my presence. For the longest time, he kept staring at the forms in his hands and then at the picture of him and his army buddy Brody. Worried me when he wiped away tears.
“Dan threw the papers down and spoke to Brody. With his best friend dead, he had no one to put down as an emergency contact. He mumbled something about being alone, and that the general doesn’t give a damn if he lives. What struck me was he made a remark that his father would prefer his death and he sent him on multiple missions attempting to kill him for six years.”
Visibly stunned, Jon assumed like the rest, Dan’s father pulled strings to obtain his position with TRF. That would indicate a decent relationship if a father went to that length for his son. Jon cocked one eyebrow up. “Dan believes his dad wants him dead? What did you do?”
“I suppose, but I didn’t probe him on the topic. I attempted to back out silently to give him his privacy, but he spotted me. I think he heard me first—like every time Loki tries to sneak up on him to prank him. When Dan gazed at me, his eyes held weary desolation. A sight hard to take, and though it only existed for a fraction of a second before he closed off, it showed me he continues to struggle with grief. I asked him if he needed anything.”
Rubbing his face and questioning yet again if he should be sharing this with Jon, Nick took a deep breath. He considered telling Jon several times over the past month. As tactical leader, it might be important for Jon to be aware of this.
Nick decided to continue. “Dan turned away from me, and in a monotone voice he said, ‘No, nothing I need, sir’. Normally, I would let it be, but the desolation I glimpsed made me press him. I picked up the paperwork and glanced over it. When I noted the empty contact spaces, I said to him, seems to be some blank spaces.
“Dan asked me how much I overheard and I told him everything. He stared at the floor, and I got the impression he fought an internal battle for at least five minutes. Afterward, he made his request to list my name stating the general rarely stayed in country, so it would be tough to contact him.
“I reminded Dan I overheard everything and he looked intently at me for a long while with indecision. Dan then shared with me he didn’t relate well with his father and preferred not to put his mother down because he had no interaction with her in over six years. I agreed to be his contact, and I didn’t push further. Dan appeared to be shutting down again.”
Peering at Jon, Nick elaborated. “The emotionless countenance which overtakes him as he withdraws.”
Jon nodded. “Stoic, soldier mode.”
Nick grimaced, nodded in agreement, then concluded, “Dan thanked me, scribbled in my name, handed me the forms, and left. We’ve not spoken about it since.”
Leaning back in the chair, Jon considered Dan’s stoic and unreadable expression. He observed them many times, they all did, and the shield made him wonder about Dan’s past. With his history in the military, Jon was sure Dan witnessed and dealt with a lot of horrific things. Now learning about the estrangement from his parents, Jon coupled that with Boss’ belief Dan used the blank mask as a coping mechanism to protect himself. Jon now tended to agree with Nick’s assessment. To some extent, we all use shields of one form or another to hide behind.
As Jon mulled over what Nick shared, the one thing Jon really didn’t like learning was Dan’s remark about being alone. I thought we made inroads with him. Doesn’t Dan realize the team accepts him and we will have his back? He is not alone. Our team always takes care of our own. Sure, we had a rough start, but Dan should realize by now he is a valued member of the team. Does he?
Jon blew out a long, frustrated breath. He screwed up so dreadfully with Dan. He thought he fixed the problem, but maybe he had not quite yet. Then the comment about the general preferring Dan was dead, reentered his mind. Returning his gaze to Nick, Jon questioned, “So, do you have any idea what he meant by the general trying to kill him or what the mission after mission comment was about?”
Nick shook his head wearily. “No, and I don’t plan on asking him. I got the impression Dan’s history isn’t pretty. If he wants to share with me at some point, that’s fine. If not, I’m fine with that, too. We all ha
ve things in our pasts which are better left alone. We are each entitled to maintain our privacy.”
Jon didn’t necessarily agree but kept quiet. A doctor entering and strolling straight to them interrupt those thoughts as he rose. About damned time for an updated status on Dan.
Pride Goes Before the Fall
41
April 1
Mercy Hospital – Dan’s Room – 10:40 p.m.
Lying on his side, propped up with pillows behind him to prevent him from rolling to his back, Dan stared at the wall in front of him. Everything remained hazy and slightly out of focus, a side effect of being pumped full of narcotics, antihistamines, and anti-nausea medication.
Dan hated the floating, loopy sensation. He wished he could sleep, but he didn’t dare close his eyes. Every time he did, hundreds of gumballs with spiky, teeth nipped him all over his body. As they tormented him an evil, ginormous gumball with razor-sharp glass teeth came along and chomped on his butt.
His hallucinations hurt and creeped him out. He desperately wanted to fall asleep, yet continued to gaze at the white wall hoping the drugs would leave his system soon and stop the painful phantasms.
Today sucks. First, Cooper nailed me in the groin when I lost focus and then gumballs send me flying across the tiles, through a window, and I ended up on the floor with glass sticking out of my ass.
The general would be dissatisfied with how seriously I screwed up today. Thankfully, he’ll never find out, or he would come here to dress me down for being a disappointment to the Broderick name.
I screamed three times like a baby, and while Jon negotiated for my release, I laid there groaning too. The team must think I’m weak and a royal fuck up.
Why the hell couldn’t I keep my balance or at least the damned glass cut into a different part of my anatomy? The leg or back wouldn’t be as embarrassing. My lousy luck glass and ass rhyme, more fodder for mocking me.
My life is going to suck for a long time. Razzing at TRF will never end. The guys will be merciless. Bet they are probably laughing their asses off at this moment. I’m going to be the butt of jokes forever—no pun intended.
Well, maybe there won’t be any taunts. My performance today most likely will get me kicked off the team. And even if this doesn’t do it, I may be cut loose for incurring too much medical leave. The only bright spot with that possible scenario is I won’t need to listen to all the crap they’ll throw my way.
Dan realized he had not been wounded quite so often in Special Forces. Nowhere near as often as with TRF in the past nine months. Sure, he had lots of injuries with Blaze’s unit … to be expected with six years of non-stop missions. And although he endured one significant period of recuperation after being rescued from terrorist bastards, he had never been ill. Except for the poisoning and he grouped the incident with injuries because Savelievich drugged him during a mission. Here though, Dan experienced injuries or illness on an almost monthly basis.
Damned glad I heal fast. Dan snorted. Never imagined being an urban police officer with the TRF would be more hazardous than being an elite Special Forces Guardian unit soldier.
A knock on his door and Boss asking if they could come in interrupted Dan’s rambling, wild, illogical, drug-induced thoughts. Boss’ request must’ve been rhetorical because the whole team entered when he didn’t answer. Dan didn’t want them here. He blundered colossally today. Not only did he fail to protect Ray from a subject, but he also permitted the subject to escape his grasp, and ended up taken hostage. The turn of events in the mall utterly humiliated him and nothing remained of Dan’s pride today.
When Dan failed to respond to Boss’ call, Alpha Team soundlessly filed into his room desiring to check on him. They hoped not to wake him if he slept due to the after-effects of the anesthesia or from the pain medication. They were surprised to find his eyes open but noted they appeared glazed and unfocused. Based on his strange facial expression, each surmised Dan must be riding high on painkillers.
Only one arm and half of his face remained visible, both riddled with small slices and nicks. Dan’s forearm bore a bandage covering one of the longer or deeper lacerations. Doctor Smythe told them in addition to the severe impalement of his buttocks, Dan suffered six slashes on his arms, legs, and head which required various numbers of stitches to close.
What concerned them most, though, was the primary wound. Smythe explained the shard sliced like a knife all the way down to the hip bone when it embedded itself in Dan’s posterior. Smythe informed them he used over sixty sutures to repair the tear in the gluteus maximus muscle.
Dan’s surgeon remained hopeful no nerve damage occurred, but it would take a few days before he knew for sure since the anesthesiologist had to switch midway through the surgery to a nerve block to numb the area after Dan experienced an adverse reaction to one of the medications he received.
Dan broke out in hives, causing his throat to swell and they almost had to intubate him. Luckily, the inflammation decreased after administering an emergency dose of antihistamines, but that drug caused him to vomit.
After giving him anti-nausea medication and cleaning him up, they removed the glass. Smythe indicated that was the reason surgery took twice as long as anticipated and also why they held Dan in the surgical recovery area for an extended period for observation. Evidently, Dan didn’t react as expected to several medications, so the doctor wanted to be cautious.
When they learned Dan was in recovery and would be there a while, they all went home to eat, shower, and change before coming back. Dr. Smythe allowed them to visit after hours but said Dan would be groggy and possibly hallucinating due to the painkillers administered. For their own peace of mind, each of them needed to see Dan to reassure themselves he would be okay, even if he was still a little out of it.
A gentle smile graced Nick’s face. “Do you need anything, Dan?” He didn’t bother asking how he was doing. It was clear he was not doing well, and it would be a stupid question to ask.
After blinking a few times, Boss came into view. Dan’s dry throat caused a raspy, hoarse sound, “No.” He closed his lids, not wanting to talk to them, but tiny fang-balls attacking him necessitated opening them again.
Jon stepped forward. “Dano, we stopped by to let you know we are here. We won’t stay long. You require rest.” He moved back as Dan gave no acknowledgment of his words.
Dan nearly snorted. How the hell can I rest with candy beasts biting me all over every time I shut my damned eyes?
“Hey, Dan. Get better fast. We’ll be missing you out there.” Lexa gently, yet awkwardly touched his hand, before retreating to her former position. She desired to do more to comfort him but couldn’t with the guys present.
Trying to lighten the mood Loki quipped, “Hey, Wile E. Coyote, we got some awesome footage of you riding the Acme Gumball Express.”
“Wile E. Coyote? Acme Express?” Bram questioned.
Loki shrugged as he grinned. “Dan is often hurt, but he bounces back fast. He reminds me of the cartoon character Wile E. Coyote, particularly since the gumball machine had an Acme label.”
The team scowled at Loki when Dan’s eyes shut, and he released a soft groan. Their glares sent a clear message. That isn’t funny it is hurtful.
Dan couldn’t bear to lift his eyelids and view the team laughing at him, but keeping them closed hurt also. He should possess a thicker skin, but lying here, fresh out of surgery and high on drugs, Loki’s jab hurt. Well, shit! I now have a new name, Wile E. Coyote.
The longer his eyes stayed closed, the more demon-balls came at him. The glass-teethed freaky things bit him mercilessly, and the gargantuan gumball rolled towards him with jagged teeth, ready to clamp down. Dan yelled at his hallucination, “Get away from me! Go. Leave me the fuck alone.”
Shocked at Dan’s outburst, everyone shared glances. Does he really want us to leave?
“Sorry, Dan,” Loki contritely apologized. Ashamed and remorseful, Loki moved to the far corner of the room. He di
dn’t mean to cause Dan pain or upset him. It was the last thing in the world he wanted to do. Loki had intended to use humor to brighten Dan’s mood, but now he understood his words might make Dan believe he was making fun at his expense.
Unable to make the Goliath monster disappear before it sank its dagger teeth into him again, Dan’s eyes flew open, and he shouted, “Fucking gumballs won’t quit attacking me. Why the hell does the damned thing keep biting me in the ass?”
The team’s eyes round with surprise. Whoa! Dan is flying high as a kite and hallucinating.
Bram crouched down eye level with Dan and softly asked, “Dan, are you seeing things?”
Focusing on Bram, the haze lifted a bit. “Hell, yes! Mean, evil bastards. Gumballs with glass teeth. They attack every time I close my eyes. I’m tired, but they keep sinking fangs in me. Make them go away, Bram.”
“Okay. You know they’re not real. Right?” Bram’s concern ratcheted up.
“Yeah, but they won’t go away, and it hurts when they chomp on me, particularly the mammoth-sized one.”
“I’ll find his nurse.” Ray began to exit.
At Ray’s voice, Dan called out, “Ray, Ray, you okay? I should’ve covered you better. It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”
Nick motioned with his chin for Ray to go to Dan and he left himself to locate the nurse as Ray moved forward. “I’m alright. It was not your fault. You covered me fine. Weird stuff happens sometimes. It could’ve as easily been you as it was me who Kash squirted with oil.”
“If it were, then you’d be the one being chased by gumballs instead of me.” Dan snorted.
Ray couldn’t help the smile. “I’d trade places with you if I could, buddy.”
“Wouldn’t let you. Gumballs are evil and mean,” Dan said solemnly.
The night nurse came in, and the team backed away as she assessed Dan’s vitals “Dan, my name is Karen, your nurse tonight. I’m administering a sedative now. This will help you sleep and stop your hallucinations. I’ll speak to the doctor, and we’ll adjust your medications to alleviate this reaction moving forward.” Karen pushed the tranquilizer into the IV port.
