2. I’m Hit #2
They stopped in front of a large glass door. Greystone punched in a code, the door slid open. Inside they went, down a drab hallway. The ceiling lights—triggered by movement—lit up the corridor.
“Who uses this place?” Gabriel asked, then everything fell into place.
This is ALPHA BLACK OPS’ Black Site.
“I’ve been asking them that same question for years,” said Dr. Joyce.
“Dr. Joyce is our on-call surgeon,” Greystone explained as his phone rang. “Nurse Baker Deen is here. Lulu, take over.”
Luciano took Greystone’s place as the group rounded the corner.
Down the hall they continued until they entered a room.
“G, shut your eyes,” Teddy said.
“Why?” Gabriel asked.
The bright lights of the triage room had him slamming his eyes shut.
“That’s why,” Teddy said. “Just do as we say… for once.”
They set him on a gurney, continued applying pressure to his wounds as Greystone strode in with a man.
“I’m nurse Baker Deen,” said the middle-aged man dressed in scrubs. “I’m going to prep you for surgery.”
“I’ll help you,” the surgeon said.
“I can stay and help,” Teddy said.
The surgeon handed Teddy a pair of scissors. “Cut his pants off.”
“This suit is a ten-thousand-dollar Santini Original,” Gabriel balked.
“I don’t care if it’s laced in gold and diamonds,” the doctor replied. “If you don’t cooperate, I’ll sedate you. Now, be quiet and let us do our jobs.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Gabriel replied.
Truth was, he liked a bossy woman. A confident woman who took charge, did her job like a badass. Dr. Joyce was attractive, in her forties.
“You married?” Gabriel asked.
“Very,” replied the doctor. “You?”
“No, but I’m always looking.”
The surgeon chuckled. “A patient with a sense of humor. Those are my favorite. You know, I’m always summoned here in the middle of the night, so being that it’s only eleven-fifteen meant I wasn’t woken from a sound sleep.
And you’ve got a sense of humor.” She patted his shoulder.
“I was only going to remove one of the slugs, but you made me laugh, so I’ll take them both out. ”
The group laughed.
“We’ll be in the break room,” Greystone said. “Let us know if you need anything.”
“I’m Teddy, the good brother.” He started cutting.
“Why are you covered in so much blood?” asked the nurse.
Gabriel glanced at Teddy who shook his head.
Silence.
“The blood on your clothes and face look like blood spatter,” said Dr. Joyce.
“You told me to be quiet,” Gabriel said.
“This is a first,” Teddy mumbled.
“I’m going to scrub up,” the doctor said. “Teddy, if you can wait with Gabriel while Baker scrubs, that would be helpful.”
“Whatever you need.” He refocused his attention on slicing through Gabriel’s clothes.
“Thanks for staying,” Gabriel said. “You are the good brother.”
That made Teddy smile as he cut the high-end fabric.
Truth was, Gabriel didn’t care about the clothes.. He’d never had surgery, wasn’t thrilled about going under. Didn’t know the extent of his injuries. For once, Gabriel was not in control.
He hated that the most of all.
For the next few hours, he had to put his trust in total strangers, and he wouldn’t even be awake to manage the situation.
As the nurse peeled his shirt from the wound, pain shot through him, but he lay still. When Teddy tugged the material from his leg wound, he grunted through the discomfort.
“Whoa, that looks bad,” Teddy said.
“It clotted,” the nurse said as he examined Gabriel’s leg. “That’s good.”
Nurse Baker draped a sheet over him, then lay a blanket on top before starting him on an IV drip. “This has fluids, an antibiotic, and something to relax you.”
“Nice,” Gabriel murmured.
“I’ll be right back,” the nurse said before he shut the door behind him.
Alone with his baby brother.
Teddy smiled down at him. “You doing okay?”
“Three got away.”
“A revenge hit,” Teddy said. “We should never have taken out all those Russians at the restaurant last month.”
“Take ‘em out, don’t take ‘em out. They woulda come after me anyway.”
“Did you get a good look at ‘em?”
“No, but that won’t stop me.” Despite the discomfort, a smile lifted Gabriel’s lips. “Once I’m outta here, I’m going after all of ‘em.”
“Can’t leave it alone, can you G?” Teddy asked.
“They’re squeezing my turf in Italy. They’re going after our businesses—”
“Are you talking about the clothing and the winery?”
“No, I’m talking about the business Grandpa built from nothing. I’m talking about Cosa Nostra. I know you three have gone legit, but this is who I am. It’s in my blood. They followed me here and they’re coming for me.”
“We’ll get you some security,” Teddy said.
“What happened to my CANiK?”
“I got it.”
“You’re a good brother. You really are the glue of the fam.”
Teddy smiled, the pride shining in his eyes. “Grazie.” After a beat, he said, “I popped the question tonight. This time, with the ring. I’m sorry you missed it. Sydney really wanted you there.”
“Did she say yes?”
Teddy chuffed out a laugh.
“Seriously,” Gabriel said. “I’m happy for you guys.”
“I know you two are close, so I want you to be my best man. Will you do it?”
Teddy had surprised him into silence.
The door opened, the nurse appeared at his side. “We’re all set.”
“Just a second,” Gabriel shifted toward his brother. “Hell yeah, I’ll be your best man. He lifted his uninjured arm and Teddy clasped it. “Thank you, Theodore. I love you, brother.”
“Love you too, G.”
The nurse wheeled him into the surgery center. Bright lights, a sterile environment. A masked and gloved Dr. Joyce smiled down with kind eyes while the nurse got busy with the IV.
“Gabriel, what do you do?” the doctor asked.
He felt drowsy. “I run Santini International Euro, Santini Spirits, our Tuscan winery.… and Cosa Nostra.”
“You’re a busy man,” said the nurse.
“Revenge is a full-time business,” Gabriel muttered as his eyes fluttered closed.
HALSTON
At just past three in the afternoon, the jet touched down at Dulles. Halston swiped the tears from her eyes. Rarely did she get emotional, but she could not contain her joy. Being back in the US felt like the best gift she could ever receive.
She glanced out the window as the jet taxied to the gate.
I’m home.
Relief washed over her. It had been a long assignment.
The unbuckling of seatbelts stole her attention, but she got busy fishing her burner from the false bottom of her handbag to text her handler.
Landed at Dulles. Going to embassy
Halston couldn’t wait to head down to CIA headquarters in McLean for a face-to-face.
I hope it’s soon.
First, she’d hug the woman who’d been her lifeline for the past nine months, then she’d pass along the thumb drive before debriefing her boss. Excitement had her foot tapping out a frenetic beat on the airplane floor.
The passenger beside her glanced down. “That’s exactly how I feel,” he said. “That was a long flight.”
“It’s all good,” she said, maintaining her thick, Russian accent.
During the thirteen-hour flight, he’d tried to make small talk—more than once—but she’d shut him down.
“Where are you headed?” he asked. “Maybe we can share a ride.”
While she wasn’t getting creepy-guy vibes, she wasn’t interested in getting to know him. If she had been, she’d done it hours ago.
“I’m all set.”
“If I give you my number, any chance you’d call me for coffee or a drink?”
She tossed a nod at his wedding ring. “Will your wife be joining us?”
His cheeks reddened. “She won’t mind.”
The plane stopped at the gate, the flight crew got busy opening the exit door.
“I’m getting a divorce,” he added.
Whatever.
Rather than continue the conversation, Halston got busy pulling her hair into her signature Minka bun, leaving her long bangs draping over her forehead. First-class passengers began rising from their seats.
Her seat mate pulled out her large carry-on. “Yours?”
She took it from him. “Thanks.”
He grabbed his, turned back to her. “See ya at baggage claim.”
After he left, she motioned for the woman traveling with two young children, then she entered the aisle. She’d packed her small wardrobe into her carry-all, so she was all set. Her only direction… forward.
As she walked into the airport terminal toward Customs, she checked the time and did a double take. The flight was long, the layover longer than she’d hoped, plus the time difference. It was three-thirty Monday afternoon.
Her burner rang.
“Hello,” she answered, her thick Russian accent front and center.
“Welcome back,” said her handler. “It’s great to hear your voice.”
“Same,” Halston said. “What’s the plan?”
“Love that you’re continuing to use your accent.”
“Of course.”
“There’s been a change.”
Halston’s heart dropped.
“I know we discussed you coming here after you get checked in at the embassy, but it’s too risky.”
Dammit.
“Go to Hotel Dillinger in northwest DC at seven tonight. Penthouse 1119. Since you won’t have a keycard, type in 1224 on the elevator keypad.
At the suite, knock twice. A tall brunette will answer and ask why you’re there.
Tell her you’re following the white rabbit. She’ll be your POC going forward.”
“What about you?” Halston asked.
“Your case has been reassigned.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is she with Langley?” Halston inched forward in the Customs’ line.
“My boss got an email from the Director—”
“Of our department?”
“No, the Director.”
What the hell?
“I’m next for Customs,” Halston said. “Thanks for everything.”
“Good luck.”
Halston killed the call, shoved the burner into the false bottom of her crossbody, and pulled out her passport.
“Next,” called the agent.
At the counter, she set her passport down. He glanced at her, then her picture. “First time in the US?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you here?”
“I will be working at Russian Embassy for newly-appointed Ambassador, Yuri Bulgrov.”
He shifted from her to his computer. After too much typing, he said, “What is your occupation?”
“Lead translator,” she replied.
He stamped her passport. “Welcome to the United States.”
Yessss!