27
Rowan
Aftermath
Tyrique appeared with a headset and handed it to Mark. Rowan had no idea where he’d gotten it and didn’t ask. Now was not the time. Rule number one was not to interfere with the operators. There would be plenty of time for questions later.
Mark shoved him down to sit on the edge of one of the planters, which meant he had to watch the medics work on Howard.
The medics—who were, in fact, a cardiothoracic surgeon, a Ranger Combat medic, and a veteran medic who was now a trauma nurse—also didn’t need an audience or interference, but since no one had handed him a headset, he knew that he’d been officially benched.
The trauma nurse stepped away and pulled off her gloves, dropping them on the pavement before pulling on a second set from a bag of medical supplies that had come from sources unknown.
Rowan suspected the Ranger medic’s car, but couldn’t confirm that.
The white rubber gloves looked incongruous against the nurse’s sequined gown.
“Vivian?” Rowan demanded looking away from the medics, when Mark paused in his conversation with Tyrique.
“Inside and taking command,” said Tyrique.
“I’m online,” said Mark into his headset. “Give me the sit-rep.”
The nurse began to paw at his arm.
“Ma’am, I am fine!” said Rowan sharply.
“I’ll tell you when you’re fine,” said the nurse. “Now shut up, and let me look at it.” With a quick snap, she pulled a pocket knife out of her stylish beaded purse and cut a larger hole in his suit jacket to look at his arm.
“This is not necessary,” Rowan objected, although he realized it had now reached the pointless stage. There wasn’t anything that he absolutely had to be doing, and if she was paying attention to him, then she thought Howard didn’t need her.
“Okayyyy,” she muttered, tearing the hole wider and pulling at the ragged chunk of flesh on his arm.
He was lucky it wasn’t worse. It hurt like fuck, and he was pretty sure he’d be covered in bruises tomorrow, but he didn’t have any holes in him, and that meant he was a hell of a lot better than Howard.
“Roger that,” said Mark, hand to the headset.
Rowan could now hear the wail of sirens. He hoped like hell it was the ambulance.
“Ambulance is inbound,” said Mark. “Tyrique, go wave them in.”
“Yes, Sir,” said Tyrique, jogging toward the street.
“Vivian,” repeated Rowan. He didn’t know where she was, and he didn’t like that. The nurse slapped some shit on his arm. It hurt.
“Roger,” said Mark. “Viv wants to know if she can direct the police to the side parking lot or if it’s better to come here?”
“Side parking lot. Keep them out of the way of the ambulance,” said the Ranger medic without looking up.
“We’re going to Harborview,” said the surgeon. “Can someone get them on the horn to clear a table?”
“Roger that,” said Mark, turning away and beginning to speak rapidly into the headset.
The undulating wail of the ambulance made him want to cover his ears. The nurse stuck a bandage to his arm and then turned back to Howard, stripping off the gloves she had been wearing for Rowan, and grabbing a third set. Rowan wondered how many gloves medics went through on an average shift.
The ambulance screeched to a halt, doors flying open.
The nurse ordered them around. Periodically, the surgeon put in a word that the nurse translated into whatever the fuck EMTs spoke. It seemed like mere moments later that Howard was on the gurney and being loaded into the back.
“We have confirmation from Harborview,” said Mark. “They are expecting you.”
“Great,” said the surgeon, climbing into the back of the ambulance.
“He needs stitches,” said the trauma nurse to Tyrique, jerking her thumb at Rowan.
“Yes, Ma’am,” said Tyrique. “I’ll call Hot Lips.”
“Hilarious,” said the nurse sourly. “But, seriously, he needs to see someone.”
“Hot Lips is our medic,” said Tyrique, looking startled. “It’s just what we call him.”
“Him. Oh. OK. Great,” said the nurse, shaking her head as she climbed into the ambulance. For the first time, Rowan realized that Tyrique probably hadn’t ever seen M.A.S.H.
The ambulance doors slammed shut, and Rowan took a breath.
“Cops are inbound and getting bitchy about being routed,” said Mark.
“Fuck them,” said Rowan with a shrug. “The threat is cleared. Ambulance is out. They can come ahead if they want. But fuck their feelings. They can get over it.”
Mark nodded and walked away, hand on the headset.
“Where the fuck did we get headsets?” Rowan asked of no one in particular.
“Vivian,” said Tyrique, who was texting. He tucked his phone away and looked up. “Your bae is legit. Pretty sure she could run an army if she wanted.”
“Only if you give her enough chocolate,” said Rowan, feeling in his pocket.
The chocolate bars he’d purchased were probably mush now.
He’d meant them to be symbolic. He wasn’t sure there was enough chocolate in the world to buy his way out of his shit hole, but at the moment, that was the least of his problems.
“OK,” said Mark, coming back. “The cops want us to remain here until they can secure the scene.”
“It was a drive-by,” said Rowan. “They aren’t coming back. They were here for Howard and Vivian.”
“What?” demanded Tyrique, looking shocked.
“They were parked. I clocked them when I left. Three guys in an SUV. I didn’t like the look, so I got the license plate. It’s been uploaded to the company drive. But on the way back, I saw Vivian come out to the front, and that’s when they started to move.”
“They shot at Vivian, too,” said Mark. “There’s two in that planter that had her name on it.”
“I don’t think she knows that,” said Teddy, walking up briskly.
He wore another one of Vivian’s headsets and pushed it down around his neck as he approached.
“Police are here. Vivian has them bagged, tagged, and doing what they’re told already.
She’s got half of them taking statements from guests so they can leave ASAP and the other half talking to building staff to get whatever security footage they can.
Cops say detectives and CSI are en route, but our team is to sit tight until detectives say we can go. ”
“Hot Lips says he’ll be here in a few,” said Tyrique. “Wants to know how much gear to bring.”
“It’s just a few stitches,” said Rowan, impatiently.
“Got it,” said Tyrique, going back to his phone.
“Tell him to come in the back so the cops don’t get weird,” said Teddy, and Tyrique grunted his recognition of the instructions.
“Meanwhile,” said Mark, “can we get back to who the fuck was shooting at Howard and Vivian? Did you get a look at the shooters? All I got was a vague white dude in the driver’s seat.”
“I didn’t get much more,” said Rowan.
“You put a clip in the back of the vehicle. Do you think you hit any of them?” asked Mark.
“They didn’t stop, so going with no,” said Rowan.
He’d popped up after the initial barrage, dumped a clip into the back of the SUV, and gotten squat for his efforts. This was what he got for not carrying his usual sidearm. The Walther PPK was practically decorative.
“That just means you didn’t hit the driver,” said Teddy, taking out his phone. “I could reach out to some people. See if anyone knows anything about anyone looking for GSW care?”
“You mean illegally, right?” asked Mark.
“No, sir, I was going to call my grandma.”
“I just got shot at, shithead. Don’t start with me,” snapped Mark.
“Yeah, Teddy,” said Rowan. “Reach out. Splash some cash around if you think it will help. I’m not sure how on it the police are going to be.
Tyrique, call a couple of the guys and get them over to the hospital.
We don’t know the extent of the threat, and I want someone covering Howard once he makes it out of surgery. If he makes it out of surgery.”
“Yes, sir,” said Tyrique.
Both Tyrique and Teddy walked away, already on their phones.
“We’re going to need someone on Vivian, too,” said Mark.
“Yeah,” agreed Rowan.
“That could be problematic. Apparently, her boyfriend said some very hurtful things, and she is very angry with him.”
“Well, I was working on that, but then all this…” Rowan tried to wave his arm angrily and instantly regretted it as pain sparkles shot up his arm. He took a couple of deep breaths.
“And that,” Mark waved at the blood stains on the sidewalk for him, “may readjust the situation but, boy, you need to pull your head out of your ass. I don’t know what the fuck would make you say that shit in the first place.”
He’d freaked out and tried to protect himself by saying something stupid?
“I listened to Belinda,” said Rowan.
“Evil bitch lawyer lady?” asked Mark, looking confused. “Why?”
Rowan groaned. “I don’t know! Because I’m an idiot! Can we talk about this… never? I will talk to Vivian. But, no, we’re not letting her walk out of here without protection.”
“OK,” said Mark. “Just making sure we’re all on the same page. You’re going to grovel, and we’ll take you both back to your place once Hot Lips stitches you up.”
“I’m not going to grovel,” said Rowan.
Mark gave him a look. “Yes, you will. You will get in there and get us back on the field. Olly needs cousins, and little Alyssa wants a playmate.”
“Going with Alyssa?”
“We’re trying it out,” said Mark, putting his hand up to the headset. “Roger that. Police want us to come in. They want to take over the scene, and having a bunch of armed assholes standing around out front is making them nervous.”
“Let’s go then,” said Rowan. He took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure why getting shot at was easier than apologizing. But Mark was right. If groveling was what it took, then for Vivian, he’d be on his knees.