Chapter 11 #2
“That’s right.” Dylan pulled out what looked like pads and pressed two over the bullet wound on the back.
And pressed down hard. Nick closed his eyes and bit his teeth.
The pads filled with blood immediately and Dylan pressed two more.
It took six pads before the bleeding stopped.
Dylan took a long strip of gauze and wrapped it tightly around Nick’s abdomen.
He then tapped his ear and said, “Come down.”
There was a crack, a big chunk of the concrete fell to the floor and two men rappelled down. They were carrying something that unfolded into a litter, saw Dylan, and hustled over. One looked over at her, covered in dust and blood.
“Ma’am?”
She waved her hand at Nick. “I’m not wounded, he is. See to him.”
They both turned back to Nick. They were tying Nick to the litter with complicated knots. Parker hovered, crying, holding on to Nick’s hand. His eyes were half open but unfocussed. She was terrified he was slipping away.
“Ma’am?” the same man said.
Parker didn’t understand.
The man pointed to their joined hands. “We need to move him now.”
She was clinging to his hand, and they couldn’t move him. How could they get him up? She reluctantly let his hand go, hating it. She wanted to be connected to him. He wouldn’t die if she was holding his hand.
All of a sudden there was a loud thunk and another big piece of the concrete ceiling broke away.
The opening was large. Several men rappelled down fast on ropes.
Two stood at attention holding ropes. When the two soldiers carrying Nick brought his litter to where men were pouring in, the two men holding ropes efficiently tied them to Nick’s litter, at the head and the feet.
One whirled his index finger and Nick’s litter rose, smoothly, to the top.
Hands grabbed the litter at the top and he disappeared.
Parker panicked. “I want to go with Nick!” she said, her throat tight.
Dylan was at her side. “Here, step into this.” He was holding ropes tied in knots into a strange shape. He held it for her and indicated she was to step into it. At the end, she was fitted into a sort of harness. He clapped his hands, looked up and nodded.
She was hauled up quickly and smoothly and swung out onto the ground. A female soldier helped her out of the harness. “So how are—” she began but Parker took off running. They were carrying the litter to the helicopter, and she was going to be on that helicopter or die.
Soldiers were swarming everywhere, moving purposefully. She had no idea what they were doing, and she didn’t care. The nukes were safe. Now all she cared about was Nick. White-faced, eyes closed, hand dangling over the side of the litter.
He was being loaded onto the helicopter. She put her foot on the step and one of the soldiers in the helicopter put up his hand. “Sorry, ma’am.”
Parker knew she must look like a madwoman—filthy and bloodstained and with a wild look in her eyes. But she was willing to go berserk. She was not leaving Nick’s side.
The man who’d stopped her looked past her, nodded, and held out his hand.
She took it and was hauled up and into the helicopter.
Right behind her was Dylan. There were six seats facing each other and Nick was lying on his litter in the middle.
Parker was horrified to see that he was starting to bleed through the bandages Dylan had applied.
There were two soldiers, and one started removing the bandages.
When he’d removed them, he sterilized the area around the wound then placed new bandages.
Parker had no idea how to help so she sat and held Nick’s hand. He was unconscious and wouldn’t notice, but it made her feel better.
They had taken off as soon as everyone was on board, and they were traveling low and very fast. Conversation was impossible over the noise.
Dylan handed Parker a crash helmet. When she put it on, he indicated a button on the side. When she pressed it, his voice came on as if he were sitting right next to her and talking in her ear.
“We’re heading to the US Naval Hospital in Naples, Parker. A surgical team is standing by. Nick will be taken directly into the operating theater. He’ll be ok. He’s tough.”
Parker lifted her eyes to his, miserable. “He’s lost so much blood,” she whispered. To her surprise, he heard. The internal comms system was very good.
“That’s why he’s being transfused right now. His blood type is on file.”
She looked at the second man, who was unpacking a box with IV bags of blood. He had an IV tree, hung the bag, and slid a needle in the crook of Nick’s arm. Nick’s eyes didn’t even move beneath his lids.
Oh God.
The medic opened up the tube and blood started traveling into Nick’s arm. Undoubtedly saving his life.
She gripped Nick’s hand more tightly. If she could, she’d infuse him with her own life force. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t do anything but hold his hand and hope that somewhere deep inside him, he knew she was with him.
Because she loved him.
There was no denying that fact. When she’d dreamed of finding love, she thought it would take time.
Days, weeks, months. Maybe even years. She was picky, had only a few friends, had moved around the world and didn’t have a crew of friends.
So she didn’t know how good a handle she had on people. Usually, she preferred books.
But nothing in her life prepared her for the heart-wrenching feelings she had for Nick. In the short span of time they’d known each other, he’d proved to be kind, gentlemanly, a sex god in bed, and willing to die for her.
Smart and honorable.
She loved him and recognized the feeling because she’d never felt anything remotely like this before. It was a mixture of warmth and fierceness. She’d killed the man who wanted to shoot Nick—well, Dylan had killed him as well—and she was glad. She’d do it again. And again. To defend Nick.
“We’re approaching Naval Hospital in Naples,” she heard Dylan say in her helmet.
“There’s a surgical team waiting for him.
He’s going to get the best possible care.
He’s a bit of a legend in the military. Not only was he an outstanding soldier, but he’s saved eight nukes from the hands of terrorists. You, too.”
She waved a hand. She hadn’t done anything, really.
“He’ll definitely get a medal. Another one. I wouldn’t be surprised if you got one, too.”
Parker shook her head. She didn’t want a medal. She wanted Nick, alive.
She felt Dylan’s touch on her arm.
“There’s one thing that has to be made clear, though, Parker. Look at me.”
His voice turned very deep and serious. Startled, Parker raised her eyes from Nick’s face to look at Dylan. His features were as serious as his voice.
“Listen to me very carefully, Parker. If you and Nick get medals, they are the kind that can never be shown to anyone and have to be locked away. Nick’s got a lot of those.
You’re a public figure, but you can never talk about this.
I was told that the mobsters who were sent out belonged to the de Luca clan and they are vicious and vengeful.
If it got out that you two were responsible for saving the nukes, and thwarting the de Lucas, your life wouldn’t be worth living.
They’d put out contracts, and when you least expect it, killers would come for you.
So, I’ll need your word of honor that you will never discuss this publicly, ever. ”
Parker shuddered. The idea of having mobsters after them… “You have it. Oh my God, yes. I wouldn’t want to relive this, anyway.”
“Swear to it.”
“Oh yes.” She held up her hand. “I swear I will never speak a word of this to anyone.”
“There would also be legal consequences. For betraying state secrets. You can’t be court martialed, but you could be tried for treason.”
Still with one hand up, she mimed zipping her mouth with the other. Completely serious. If Nick survived, she’d never speak of it again. If he didn’t survive, she’d be so devastated she’d spend years in mourning. Never wanting to relive what had cost him his life.
“Okay,” Dylan said, and she turned back to Nick, on his back, wounded, being transfused.
She took his hand again and his eyes fluttered. Yes! She bent, put her cheek next to his.
“Live, my darling,” she whispered. “Live.”