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Bond glanced at TJ. “Finally, she gets to that question. What do you remember?”
“I took a hard kick,” I said. Maybe there was more. I couldn’t piece it together. “My side hurt so much. And it was sticky, like something had spilled on me. Maybe ink?”
Bond flashed a penlight in my eyes, checked the readouts on the computer beside the bed, and scribbled into the chart. “Not ink. Blood. Your own.” She looked at me. “You were shot. A through-and-through, no permanent damage. But we stitched up a lot of muscle, and it’s going to take a while to heal.”
I furrowed my brow and tried to sit up again.
She pressed down on my shoulder. “We’ll elevate the bed a bit, but you need to lie still. Do you understand what I told you?”
“Yes.” I was annoyed. Did she think I was an idiot? And did she say... “Was I shot?” I glanced at TJ.
He kissed my hand. “Yes. I didn’t realize it until you passed out in my arms and I saw the blood.” He closed his eyes. “Jesus, I’ve seen a lot of injuries and blood in my time, but this one through me for a loop, Ash.”
“But you’re going to have a full recovery,” Bond reiterated, I suspected for his sake as much as mine. “It will take some months, and it’s going to be a while before you can get back to kickboxing, but you’ll get there.” She pressed a button and moved me to a slight incline. “Is that okay? Any tugging on the stitches?”
I shook my head. “I feel fine. Just a little groggy.”
“You feel fine because you’re a little groggy and quite medicated,” she said.
I took in my surroundings, including the darkness outside the window. Panicked, I glanced at TJ. “What time is it? I’m being interviewed on a 9:00 p.m. cable news show.”
“We know.” TJ kissed my fingers. “Jensen is getting a connection set up so you can do a phone call from here.” He frowned. “Your friend, Magellan, said the producers will want audio clips from the recording of Calder and Kovac.”
I nodded. “Good to get it out onto the airwaves and into the public record. He’s not my friend, by the way. More like my newsroom nemesis. But this weekend, he was a good guy.”
“I figured out the nemesis part when he offered to do your interview for you,” TJ said. I widened my eyes and shook my head. “Don’t worry. I offered to break all his limbs for him if he tries to take undue credit on your scoop.”
I laughed, and for the first time felt a tug in my lower abdomen.
“Okay,” Bond told us, “this evening’s course of events will be rest until it’s time for the interview, then speak into the phone for a very short period of time, then sleep for the rest of the night.” She glanced at TJ. “Before you ask, yes, you can stay, but only as long as you behave yourself.” She hung the chart over the footrail of my hospital bed. “I’ll let the team know you’re awake and send them all home except Jensen. He and I will be in around 9:00 to get you set up for the call.”
When we were alone, I gripped TJ’s hand tighter. “The team is still together? Does that mean the subcommittee meeting went well?”
“As well as could be expected,” he said.
I was surprised that he wasn’t smiling. “But?”
He shook his head. “No buts.” He stopped, then narrowed his eyes. “Just so we’re clear, all of this is off the record.”
I sniffed as though offended, but it was a fair question. “From here on out, everything between us is off the record.”
He smiled. “Good to know I can share all my secrets with you.”
Heat flushed my skin, and his grin widened when he realized he’d made me blush.
“You were saying?” I prodded.
“I was saying, Alpha Team is dissolved, but HEAT remains funded, and everyone from Alpha Team will land on their feet. Penn will lead his own team, and he’ll take Jensen with him as his tech crew lead, and Sparks as his logistics crew lead. Alder will be transferred to a more permanent spot in our LA office.”
“Jensen and Alder won’t work together anymore?” That made me inexplicably sad.
“Not directly, but their paths will cross. Kessler and Li will stay together, but they’ll be floaters, joining teams that are on active ops as needed, which will be great for them. I didn’t realize until the past month or so just how antsy they get waiting around between missions or sitting out active ops.”
“That leaves you and Bond,” I said. A sense of uneasiness was building in my gut.
“Bond is moving into a new role,” he said. “A few months ago, HEAT’s last medical director was turned by the Carbonados, and he’s been in a prison cell awaiting trial ever since. The only good thing to come out of that is Bond’s promotion. She’ll set medical policies and hire and train all the field medics.”
“Wow! She’ll be great at that.” I waited for him to continue, but he stared down at our joined hands and didn’t speak. “Tell me the rest. Tell me where you’re landing,” I said, although I suspected what was coming.
