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“No. I looked all over my torso when I showered at the SEAL facility afterward.”
“Hmmm, okay, I’m going to poke and prod a little more to make sure there is no fractures, Sierra.”
“I knew you’d say that,” she grumped, scowling.
A slight smile hovered around Alex’s mouth as he examined her ribs through the t-shirt. Watching Sierra’s expression closely, her mouth thinned a little, but she didn’t try and move away from his fingers as he pushed a little more here and there. “Okay, I believe you. But you have three bruised ribs, Sierra.”
“They’ll be fine in a couple of days,” she assured him brightly, grinning.
“Good thing you have the next month off.” Alex knew that Jack Driscoll, owner of Shield and an ex-SEAL himself, always slated a month break between ops this intense. Driscoll fully realized the brutality of such missions and wanted his people to rest up and come down from the dangerous situations they were constantly placed in.
“Tell me about it. I intend to just stay in my cabin outside of Alexandria, read my paperback books, enjoy really good hot coffee, and sleep a lot.”
“Sounds like a good prescription to me,” he murmured. Alex worked her hip, moving it slowly to see if she reacted. She did. “Same reason? You were shoved into that palm tree?”
“Yeah,” she grunted.
“Stiff?”
“Very.”
“Nothing broken though,” Alex assured her. “Bruises there, too?”
“Yes. No skin is broken. Move on.”
He chuckled. Operators knew that any abraded skin or open wound could become quickly infected. He knew Sierra would not risk that and lie to him. “Well, I’m going to give you a shot of antibiotic in your butt. You knew that was coming.”
“I’d feel left out if you didn’t, Alex.”
“Your black humor always is refreshing, Sierra.”
“It’s all I got left in my tank right now.”
He laughed quietly and finished his examination of her. “Okay, time to scrub out that knife cut. It should be painless for you.” He took off his gloves, dropped them in a wastebasket, and pulled on a new pair after getting the items he’d need to clean out the wound.
“Did you and Lauren have a nice Christmas together?”
“Very,” Alex assured her, testing the flesh to make sure it was numbed. Sierra didn’t flinch, so he went to work on it. “It was my first Christmas with her. I helped her bake a goose. She made the stuffing. It was very good.”
“Is Lauren happy staying at Shield and not going out on missions anymore?” Sierra asked.
“Yes. And I am very happy about it, too.”
“How was the Shield Christmas party? I missed that, too.”
“Very funny. Some of the operators got together and put on a skit. Of course, there was wine, beer and plenty of good food, too.” Once he’d scrubbed out the wound, placed antibiotic into it, Alex went to work taping it closed so that Sierra would only have a very thin scar. Because she was young, only twenty-eight, that slight scar would disappear over time.
“I joined two years ago,” Sierra told him, “And I had a great time at their Christmas party that first year.” She snorted. “I was sitting on a hot rooftop for weeks with my XP, waiting for that Somali warlord to appear. I was bitching to the SEALs that last year I was with Shield employees having a great time and this year, I’m frying in the heat and sand of Mogadishu. They had no pity for me,” and she laughed.
“I think,” Alex said, nearly finished up, “that Jack has your Christmas gift in his office. You might drop by and pick it up on your way out. Is your car in the long-term parking lot behind the building?”
“Yes.” Sierra made a face. “I think I’m going straight home, Alex. I’m whipped. He’s closing down the office for this coming week, right? With New Year’s and all?”
“Yes. Starting tomorrow, Saturday, the office is closed.
“Where’s the New Year’s Party going to be held this year?”
“Up at Cal and Sky’s home. They have volunteered to put it on.”
