Chapter 11 #2
“Thanks a lot,” Cole muttered as he tore the chadari off, leaving it on the ground.
“Don’t take it personally,” Taco said. “He’d give his left nut if he could find it.”
“So now I’m getting compared to his balls sack. Nice,” Cole grumbled.
“Cole, you and Hollywood get the trucks. Ragu, Taco, and Shadow, pack up and move. Sparky, get ready,” Saint ordered.
“I’m on it,” she replied.
Hollywood stumbled and fell, scraping his face and hands. “Son of a bitch,” he swore as he got up and dusted himself off.
“You all right?” Cole asked, speaking into the coms.
“Yeah,” Hollywood said, scanning the ground. “What did they do to make the dogs lose the scents?”
“No idea, man,” Cole said. “Something tells me it’s the same stuff Fucker Ford uses.”
“Meet us at the road,” Saint interrupted them. “I’m tired of this shit. We’ve searched for four months, and we have no idea where Leo’s remains went, and we’re no closer to getting Sergeant Ford and his friends taken down.”
“We can discuss this once we’re situated. Let’s go to plan B,” Shadow said. “Hollywood, we’re coming up on you and Apollo now. Get into the first truck. Cole, you and Striker hop into the second.”
“You got it,” he said.
Saint pulled up, and Hollywood jumped into the back with his K-9. Shadow scanned the hills, searching for something. Cole jumped into the second vehicle further down.
“Shit, Hollywood. You’re bleeding all over the place,” Shadow said, gazing down at his pant leg.
“What the hell?” he muttered as he peered at the blood seeping onto his pants.
“Shit, you’re shot,” Shadow said, dropping to his knees and using his KBAR to cut the material. “Aw, fuck,” he said, banging on the back window. “We gotta book it. Hollywood caught himself a bullet, and I need hands.”
“Hang on,” Saint said before speeding up. The truck behind them kept up as Ragu opened the small window.
“Here’s some gauze,” he said, passing it through the window.
“Guys, I’m not feeling the greatest,” Hollywood said as he swayed.
“Lay him down,” Saint ordered. “When did you get hit?”
“When I fell,” he said, gritting his teeth. “My leg feels weird.”
“Hang on,” Shadow assured him, dragging his pack closer. He dug inside until he found the morphine. “This will help with the pain.”
“Listen to me,” Hollywood said. “If I don’t make it, tell Addyson I love her, and I want her to live a good life.”
“Shut up and tell her yourself. You got hit in the damn leg,” Shadow said, unable to hide his concern.
“One more thing,” Hollywood muttered. “Don’t lose my body. I don’t want to fucking die here.”
“You’re a real jokester, aren’t you?” Shadow said, cleansing the skin with an alcohol wipe and jabbing the needle into his thigh.
“Ouch,” Hollywood said sluggishly.
“We don’t need this now,” Shadow growled. “Stay with me, Hollywood. Addyson will kick your ass if you don’t come home.”
“It’s Addy. I love her,” Hollywood said. “She’s mine. I’m gonna marry her.”
“Does she know about that?” Shadow asked, keeping Hollywood talking as he glanced at Ragu.
“No. She needed time to get over Sam. I refuse to make her choose,” he murmured.
“Buddy, I believe that ship has already sailed,” Ragu said quietly as Saint raced to their rendezvous point.
“I loved her from the first moment I saw her,” he mumbled. “She doesn’t want this life. I’ll have to choose between the team and her. You’re my brothers, but she’s my life.”
“Talk to her, brother. We don’t always do these trips. Cole needed closure, and Leo wanted our military safe,” Shadow explained. “After this, we all want to stay closer to home. It doesn’t mean we won’t come if called.”
“Shit. I can’t die now. I finally found her. I’m not letting her go,” Hollywood said, his voice turning panicky.
“You’re damn right. You’re not dying on my watch,” Shadow said, setting a tourniquet. He banged harder on the window, silently telling Saint they needed to stop asap.
Hollywood’s eyes focused on Shadow, gazing at him intently. “I’ll be damned. I saw a rattle. I’ve seen it before.”
“Man, the dude’s in lala land,” Ragu said. “He’s lost a lot of blood.”
“We’re almost there,” Saint called out the window.
Apollo barked and lay at his handler’s feet. His big eyes fixed on Hollywood, as if giving him strength.
Hollywood reached out and grabbed Apollo’s fur. “We’re gonna be okay. Addy and Zeus are waiting for us.”
The truck skidded to a stop, and the men sprang into action, lifting Hollywood from the truck, carrying him into the abandoned building, and setting him on an old wooden table.
“Patch, get your ass in here,” Saint ordered as the vehicle approached.
“On my way,” Patch replied. A minute later, he entered, carrying the medical pack. He dropped it on the ground as Shadow made room for him to work. “Get me a line started,” he directed.
Shadow dug into the bag and pulled out an IV and fluids as Saint yanked up Hollywood’s sleeve. Cole ran inside, moving Apollo back. The K-9 growled, refusing to leave his handler’s side.
“Leave him,” Shadow ordered. “He’s not in the way.”
Reaching into his bag, Patch grabbed what he needed and continued to work on his friend.
“How close is Ivan?” he asked. “We need to ship him out. We can’t afford to take him to the base here.”
“I’ll contact him,” Ragu volunteered as he grabbed the communications pack.
“How bad?” Saint asked, running his hand through his hair.
“I hope he didn’t hit an artery. I can’t stop the bleeding,” Patch said desperately as he worked. Shadow handed him items as Knight stayed near Hollywood’s head.
“Stay with us,” Knight demanded.
“I saw a rattle,” he repeated. “I’ve seen it before.”
“It’s the morphine,” Shadow explained. “He started talking nonsense as soon as I gave it to him.”
“Ivan’s too far from here,” Ragu reported. “He’s redirected Victoria’s plane this way. She’s in the air.”
“What about the rattle?” Hollywood said woozily.
“I’ll get you a brand new one when we get home,” Shadow assured him, keeping him calm.