by Laura Acton
Hearing her name, Patch stared up and at Heather with wide eyes.
Heather gasped when she saw Patch. His expression beyond distressed bordering on destroyed. He clutched one pale, limp hand. Her heart wrenched, and she wanted to comfort him, but her priority was Dan. “Yes. Is he stable enough to transfer?” she asked with her professional demeanor.
“I’m not going to be able to get him more stable than he is now, which isn’t stable. I’ve placed a 40F chest tube. He’s losing too much blood, signs of massive hemothorax and cardiac tamponade. I’m afraid if we don’t move now he won’t make it. Is Dr. Markson prepared?”
“Yes,” Heather replied.
Given the urgency, they did the information exchange on the way to the operating room. Patch followed all the way to the door never releasing Blondie’s hand. At the doors to the operating room area, Heather gently pried Patch’s hand from Dan. Gazing into his pleading eyes, Heather tried to reassure him without giving false hope. “I’ve got him. I’ll be there. I promised to take good care of your Blondie.”
The doors closed and Patch slumped to the floor in a heap and sobbed.
St. Michael’s Hospital – ER Treatment Room 6 – 5:30 p.m.
Sternly eyeballing his patient, Dr. Draper firmly said, “Sir, you need to cooperate and calm down. You have a hole in your shoulder which needs tending. Your pacing and ranting won’t help your son in the least. And you won’t be much use to him if you collapse from blood loss or an infection.
“There isn’t anything you can do for your son at this time. He is in the hands of our best surgeon. I understand you don’t want to be put under, but it is up to me to decide the proper treatment. I’ll examine you and then determine what is needed and you will follow my orders. Those maple leaves on your shoulders have no pull here. This is my area of operations, and you will comply.”
Dr. Gilbert Draper was an old and grizzled doctor who never took crap from anyone. A raging general didn’t faze him in the least—he understood their language and wasn’t afraid to become demanding if it got the job done. The man could rant and rave, but Draper would win—he always did.
Though, he understood the father’s concern. Gilbert conferred briefly with Fraser to get status on the general’s son to help settle his patient. He would do all in his power to comply with his patients’ wishes not to be given general anesthesia, but his patient’s health dictated the final treatment.
He needed to wait for the results of the scans of his patient’s shoulder to be sure there was no secondary trauma requiring surgical intervention. If it was a simple perforating injury, he might use only a local.
The general impatiently and menacingly paced around the treatment room. Keeping a patient calm until the results came back isn’t typically his job. But the general was scaring the poor young nurse to death. She was only a month out of training with no experience handling the likes of this man. Give her a few more months in ER, and she will know exactly how to manage someone like the general. But for now, she’s too green.
So Dr. Draper stepped in to settle down the distraught father. Gilbert seriously considered adding a mild sedative to the IV. The man was overwrought to the point he didn’t care about his health.
The nurse peeked in the door tentatively. “Dr. Draper, the results are here.”
Gilbert hurried out. Stellar, he thought as he reviewed the report.
A short time later, he returned to the room followed by the nurse bringing the necessary supplies. Dr. Draper said, “Sir, clean through with only minor damage internally. Cleaning and suturing of the wounds are all that is needed. I can use a local. Please sit down, and we can get started.”
William dragged the IV pole with him and took a seat on the bed. He was beyond weary, but he wouldn’t rest—not while Daniel was fighting for his life. He glanced at the timid young nurse and felt remorse for scaring the dickens out her. He lifted his feet onto the bed and leaned back when the doctor instructed him to. William eyed the nurse as she pushed medication into his IV port. “What is that?”
Dr. Draper said, “Antibiotic and pain meds.” What he didn’t say was a mild sedative to help you relax before you collapse and do yourself harm.
William tried to now but found his head heavily sinking into the pillow. Damn, the doctor added a sedative. His eyes closed before he could complain.
Blood and Brotherhood
18
July 19
Ottawa – Colonel Ryan Broderick’s Home – 5:30 p.m.
“Dad!” Adam shouted at the top of his lungs out the back door.
Ryan Broderick stopped mid throw as Mark, Erik, Zach, Scott, and Jeff paused in their impromptu game of football at Adam’s distressed call.
“Dad, everyone, come in here now! It’s Uncle Will and Danny,” Adam shouted then raced back into the living room.
The guys all rushed inside and found Adam’s eyes glued to the TV. They all watched footage from Toronto of a shooting at the memorial service for Constable Plouffe. Loud curse words erupted forcefully from each man.
Mark pulled out his phone and dialed. When Tom answered the call, Mark asked without preamble, “Do you know what happened?”
Colonel Sutton paced his office. “Yes, I was about to call you. I would’ve called sooner, but I’ve been up to my neck in locking this down media wise. It’s too public and would shake the confidence of the public. I’m in full damage control mode.”
Mark injected, “I don’t give a damn about public opinion. Do you have any details about Will or Dan?”
“Only they are at St Michael’s. Will is shot in the shoulder, and Dan took a round in the chest. God, I need to call Yvonne. This is gonna kill her.” Tom slammed his fist on the desk.
“I’ll call her,” Mark offered.
Slamming the desk again, Tom said, “You can’t. Mike has orders the only communications allowed are via Will and me. Pletcher is still a threat.”
Mark ordered, “You call her now! I don’t want her finding out via the goddamned TV like we did. I’ll go to Will and Danny—you tell Yvonne that. Let her know they won’t be alone.”
Tom unclenched his fists. “She’ll want to go to them. I can’t allow that. William will kill me if I let her out of the safe house. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to either Yvonne or Becca if I allowed them to leave.”
Mark understood entirely. “Tom, you need to call her. She can’t hear this news like we did. Yvonne is a smart woman. She will understand, though won’t like it one damned bit. Yvonne will rest easier if she knows the family is there with them. As soon as we get an updated status, I’ll relay it to you, and you can relay it to her.”
The pit of his stomach on fire, Tom said, “I’ll call now. When will you arrive in Toronto?”
Mark raked a hand through his dark blond hair. He wanted to leave now, but the plane wouldn’t be ready until eight thirty. And they needed to wait for Kyle. He would be upset if they left without him—he wouldn’t do that to Kyle. “Kyle’s flight arrives at eight thirty. We’ll leave as soon after. We should be there by ten at the latest.”
“I’ll inform Yvonne. Call me as soon as you hear any news. If I receive any updates from Blain, I’ll call you.” Sutton hung up and immediately dialed Mike. He became frustrated when the call didn’t go through and dialed again.
Mark hung up. “He’s calling Yvonne.”
Connie went to Ryan—he wrapped his arm around her. “Mark, Erik, and Scott call your wives. They shouldn’t find out via the news. Connie, Adam, Jeff, Zach, and I will contact Tiffany, Pamela, Ashley, Vicky, and Amelia.”
Everyone nodded and pulled out their phones to make a very distressing call. Each was worried about William and Danny and for Yvonne and Becca, too.
St. Michael’s Hospital – Private Waiting Room – 6:00 p.m.
They sat in silence, each lost in their own worlds of swirling fear. Loki, Bram, and Ray entered, and Nick preempted their questions with a simple shake of his head. Th
ey understood—no word yet. Winds brought them up to date on what happened in the church after they left. Bram placed a hand of support on Winds shoulder when he retold about the scene with the major. Winds was plainly upset by what occurred.
Noticing their still blood-stained hands, Bram gently said, “Boss, Winds, you need to clean up.” They both looked at their hands, sighed, and rose heading to the men’s room. It took time to wash it off, some blood under the nails and around the cuticles refused to leave.
When they returned to the waiting room, they found Jon, Lexa, and Blaze had arrived. “Did you go talk to NRB yet?” Nick asked surprised to see them already.
“Agent Stevens requested to be assigned. She had us in and out in less than ten minutes. I like her,” Lexa said. “Any word on Dan or the general?”
“No, nothing on either,” Nick said.
For the third time Winds related what happened in the church. Ray offered to go get coffee for everyone and left the room with Russ and Angus. While they were gone Hal and Duncan arrived. They understood the quick shakes of the head and quietly took seats. Hal didn’t give Winds a report about the aftermath in the church—it would wait.
Near Yellowknife, NWT – Safe House – 4:05 p.m. (6:05 Toronto)
Yvonne returned from a long walk to the lake with Mike and Jack. Craig and Drake remained at the cabin with Becca. Yvonne’s day had been filled with quiet contemplation. She appreciated everyone giving her time to be with her thoughts. Even Becca didn’t intrude.
Although Becca knew what today meant to her, she didn’t really understand it. Her youngest child had little memory of Sara because Becca was only three when Sara died. Through the years, Becca became aware this day was one Yvonne spent in quiet, reflective thoughts.
Typically, she spent it in her sitting room—previously Sara’s bedroom. It took years to come to terms with her loss and to decide to redecorate the bedroom. She chose Sara’s favorite colors, yellow and blue, and found a floral pattern of yellow pansies on a blue field for the chairs. Pansies are the birth flower for both Sara and Danny and also her favorite flower. A bookcase in the room contained some of Sara’s treasures Yvonne couldn’t bear to part with—like her stuffed rabbit and plastic tea set.
The room comforted her now and normally spent July nineteenth ensconced in there. Today though, Yvonne found solace sitting by the lake and feeling the cool summer breeze in her face. She felt closer to Danny today than she had felt to him in a very long time.
Yvonne thought she heard Danny’s and Sara’s laughter in the air as she sat by the lake. It was odd—like they are together in the present. Not a memory because Sara’s laugh is still one of a little girl, but Danny’s changed—deeper like an adult. The disquieting thought is one reason she returned to the cabin.
Becca’s piercing scream of, “Nooooo!” froze Yvonne in her tracks.
Mike went into high-gear. “Jack, cover Hestia.” He raced for the cabin as he withdrew his weapon.
Yvonne moved rather quickly into the brush with Jack. He had his weapon out and scanned the surrounding area. She wanted to go to her daughter, but Yvonne understood if Pletcher is there, she would be in the way and one more person for Mike to worry about keeping safe.
Mike skidded to a halt with his weapon at the ready as Craig raced out of the cabin. His phone also buzzed in his pocket. He ignored his phone, looked at Craig, and said, “Report.”
Craig spotted Mike. “Get Mrs. Broderick, now! Becca needs her.”
Mike strode forward. “What’s going on?”
“It’s the general and Dan. They’ve been shot in Toronto. Becca saw it on the news. She needs her mother now—she fainted.”
“Pletcher?”
Craig shook his head. “I’m not sure. The news said a major was arrested and a sergeant was killed. No names released except for the Brodericks.”
Turning and racing back to where he left Jack, Mike’s mind thought of several possibilities. It had to be Plouffe. But what sergeant? He slowed as he drew near Jack’s position. His phone vibrated. This time he didn’t ignore it. He pulled it out glanced at caller ID—Sutton. “Centurion, what happened?”
Sutton used Mike’s call sign. “Heracles, I’ve been trying to reach you for a half-hour. Oracle and Phoenix have been shot. It’s vital I speak to Hestia before she sees the news coverage.”
“Hold on,” Mike said as he waved Jack to him thinking it was too late for Becca, but not Mrs. Broderick. He didn’t want to be in Sutton’s shoes.
Jack helped Yvonne back onto the trail, and Yvonne looked at Mike. She saw his distress and the phone to his ear. “What happened to Becca?”
Sutton heard Yvonne’s concerned voice, and he cringed as he waited for Mike to come back on the line.
Mike’s voice was soft as he held the phone against his leg to muffle it. “She will be okay. She had a shock after seeing some news on TV. I’m afraid she fainted.” He made a cowardly decision, but a decision nonetheless. “Centurion needs to speak to you.” Mike handed her the phone.
It had been years since Yvonne heard Tom’s call sign. Taking the phone, her intuition told her she wouldn’t like what he had to say. “What’s wrong?”
Tom bowed his head. Even though he couldn’t hear it clearly, he knew Mike had passed off telling Yvonne to him … he was too late to spare Becca the shock. His voice came out pained, “It’s Oracle and Phoenix. They have been injured.” He chose his words carefully to ensure it didn’t impact her too hard. He waited for her question, knowing it would come.
Yvonne straightened up to her full five foot six, squared her shoulders, and prepared herself for bad news. “Injured, how?”
Tom kept his voice soft, “They have been transported to the hospital and are getting the best care.”
“Centurion, I am not a child. Explain to me what happened to them,” Yvonne stated in a subdued tone with a note of disapproval because Tom was trying to dance around something terrible.
Tom sucked in a breath. He heard the lightness of Yvonne’s usual tone fade, and in its place was one they all feared. When Yvonne was angry, the quality of her voice became stilted. Tom quietly responded, “Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry. I should just come out and—”
She cut him off. “Evading and delaying. Out with it.”
“Both were shot. I’m so sorry I can’t give you many details over the phone. Oracle’s wound isn’t as bad. Phoenix … we don’t know yet. They attended a function together.”
Yvonne was confused. “Together? Isn’t Oracle out of the country? Is this related to the person who tried to harm Phoebe?”
Tom sighed. “I can’t answer you over the phone. I’ll instruct Heracles to tell you what he is able. It won’t be everything. I know you understand. What I can say is an invasion is on their way to Oracle and Phoenix. They won’t be alone.”
Yvonne looked at Mike, and he had the good grace to blush. Mike’s code name is Heracles. He is withholding information from me. Why is William back in the country and why is he with Danny? Where is Danny?
Sutton continued before Yvonne could interrupt. “And before you ask, no I will not authorize Heracles to take you to them. The traitor is still on the loose, and he could be involved in this. It might be a ploy to draw you and Phoebe out of the safe house. Oracle wouldn’t want you to risk yourself or Phoebe coming to them, and neither do I.”
Yvonne held herself firmly. Her tone restrained, and her sentences clipped, letting Tom know she was displeased, she stated, “I understand. I expect updates as soon as you know. And Centurion, you should’ve called earlier. I’m not entirely certain, but I believe Phoebe found out by seeing it on TV and fainted.” Yvonne noted the expression on Mike—that confirmed it.
Suitably reprimanded. Yvonne should’ve been his first call. He wouldn’t make excuses he had been unable to get through for the past half hour, she didn’t need excuses now. “I’m truly sorry. I should’ve called right after I found out an hour ago. I promise you’ll be my firs
t call, as soon as I hear anything. I’ll see about getting a phone to someone there, too. That will depend on Oracle’s condition though.”
“See that you do. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go take care of my daughter.” Yvonne handed the phone to Mike and strode to the cabin with purpose. Inside she was crying, but that wouldn’t help Becca now. As she walked, she fervently prayed for William and Danny and vowed she would find out from Mike just what the heck was going on.
Yvonne’s foot was on the top step of the stairs when she heard Sara and Danny laughing again. Danny’s laugh was deep, not child-like. Oh, God … did that mean Danny died?
Yvonne crumpled to the ground as she fainted at the thought of Danny dying today—the same day as Sara—it was too much to bear.
Only Mike’s quick reaction saved her head from striking the porch. He yelled for Drake as he lifted Mrs. Broderick in his arms and rushed inside.
Craig picked up Mike’s phone from the dirt and said, “Centurion, Hestia fainted.”
Sutton yelled, “Oh, hell and damnation! This can’t get much worse.”
St. Michael’s Hospital – Private Waiting Room – 7:00 p.m.
Everyone’s coffee had turned stone cold. The group received no status update on either Broderick in the past two and a half hours. Mostly they sat in silent contemplation, but occasionally they stood and paced before returning to their seat.
Blaze and Winds wondered where Patch was. They wouldn’t allow him to be in the surgery, but he wasn’t here. Blaze was about to go look for him when the door slowly opened.
Patch entered sluggishly with his head hanging down, and his shoulders slumped. Everyone gasped at his appearance. He had shed his jacket at the church, and his white shirt stained with so much blood it almost looked like a crimson shirt. He looked dreadful.
Dried blood covered his hands and forearms to the elbows. Fingerprints of blood smeared across his cheeks and forehead. The thighs and knees of his black pants were a slightly different shade of black, indicating Dan’s dried blood saturated them. His red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes, the source of still glistening rivers of tears, washed away a trail of blood down his cheeks.
