Kane coughed, each breath wheezing through his chest, crackling as if his lungs were full of static. “Then, we’d be screwed.”
Zadie snorted, watching the map move as Scout veered onto the main service road, opting for the headlights as they traveled in silence, just the crunch of gravel beneath the wheels, a few stones pinging off the undercarriage.
Another two hours before Scout stopped short of the cabin’s driveway, headlights off, nothing sounding but Kane’s continued wheeze.
She scanned the surroundings, looking as jumpy as Neve felt. “Are we sure about this? We thought Fraser was part of the team, too, and look how that played out.”
Neve checked her pistol. “I could do a quick recon, see what we’re up against.”
Wynn leaned between the seats. “Neve…”
Neve glanced at Kane, noting his clammy skin, the way he drifted in and out of consciousness. His thigh twitched, his left leg barely moving as he shifted on the seat. “On second thought, we’ll treat this the way Coulter treats any dynamic entry. We go in hot, worry about whose feelings we hurt later.”
Kane’s hand landed on Neve’s shoulder. “Gus is a grouchy son of a bitch, but he’s no traitor.”
Neve placed her hand over Archer’s. “I don’t doubt that, but this is my team.” She tapped her chest. “My responsibility. The general can bust my ass if he’s pissed with my approach.”
“Pretty sure I’m the ranking officer, Monroe.”
“Technically, you were only on the exercise to observe and evaluate my leadership performance. Weren’t supposed to join in unless it was life or death, which means, it’s still my command.” She grinned. “Sir.”
“You’re as stubborn as Barrett, you know that? And he was a fool to let you leave his unit.”
“We had other priorities.”
Kane arched a brow, coughing until his face paled further. “How’s that working out for you?”
“Not nearly how I’d hoped, but I’m cautiously optimistic, assuming this isn’t another hit.” She opened the door and stepped out. “Scout and I will take point. Zadie, you’ve got our six. Wynn, just shout if you need help with Cap.”
Kane rambled on about how he wasn’t dead yet, the bite to his words noticeably absent. Wynn rounded the truck, opened his door, when he all but fell onto the gravel road.
Neve raced over, had his arm wrapped around her shoulder, his boots dragging across the ground as they muscled him up the driveway — climbed the three steps to the porch. No worrying about another ambush, Neve just kicked in the door before they barreled inside, landing in the foyer.
General Augustus Esposito stopped mid-step, mouth gaped open, eyes narrowed. “Kane?”
Another man lunged toward them, hair tousled about his head, his glasses tilted as he moved in close, ran his fingers along Kane’s spine. “Damn. Shepherd? Get the backboard from the med bay. And grab my bag and a fresh burner phone.”
Neve stared up at the man, reading the urgency in the way he pursed his mouth, the tightness around his eyes. “I thought the gunshot wound and obvious blood loss would be your first priority… to keep him breathing.”
He barely spared her a sideways glance, helping stabilize Kane as steps echoed from deeper inside the cabin. “If the bullet was going to kill him, he’d be dead already. And I’ll hook up an IV, get some fluids into his system, but that’s not what’s paramount.” He leaned closer to Kane. “Is it just your left side that’s experiencing weakness or both?”
Kane grunted, the sound more like a moan. “Mostly my left.”
“And bymostlyyou mean both.”
Wynn glared at Kane. “Seriously, Archer? I asked you about that leg, and you said you were cold.”
Kane sighed. “We didn’t have time to deal with another injury.”
“How about, next time, you leave the medical decisions to the damn medic.”
Kane nodded, wincing as another man burst into the foyer, backboard braced between his hands, a bag slung over his shoulder.
The guy — Shepherd, Neve thought — placed the board on the floor, held it still while they lowered Kane onto it. “Burner’s in your bag along with some supplies. We’ll need to make some significant upgrades if you’re all going to be staying.”
Neve frowned. “Staying? No one said anything about staying, and why the hell do you need a burner?” She stepped back, put his eyes in her crosshairs. “Who are you?”
The man glanced at her over his shoulder, unpacking IV bags and tubing. “Darwin. Dr. Darwin Oswald. And I’m the guy who’s trying to save your captain.” He opened the burner, tapped in a number. “Prewit? Darwin… I know, just… I need a favor. I’ve got what looks like an unstable thoracolumbar fracture in the T12 to L1 region. Patient also has a GSW to the upper shoulder, no exit wound. Massive blood loss with weakness in the extremities. I need your equipment, a bed, and for everything to be kept off-grid.”
