Chapter 38
THIRTY-EIGHT
TEVENNE – ADMINISTRATION BUILDING
The water crept farther into the office. It now spread in a shallow sheet a few feet from the office door. The third IV bag hung empty. He pulled the tape free with shaking fingers and disconnected it.
Across the room, Nadya looked up. “I’ll find another bag.”
Ford dropped the empty line beside him. “It’s not making a difference anymore.”
The bandage across his ribs soaked through again. Dark red spread through the gauze despite the pressure wrap Nadya tightened earlier.
The baby stirred softly, and Ford glanced over. “When they get here, put him in the bin for transport.”
Ford leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes briefly. Nadya walked toward him, holding the baby. “I need you to hold him for a little bit.”
“What are you doing?”
She knelt in front of him, then gently placed the newborn into his arms. The tiny bundle shifted against his chest.
Ford blinked. “Nadya?”
“You stay awake,” she said firmly. She tucked more blankets tightly around both of them. “And talk to your namesake.” The baby made a small sleepy sound. Nadya met Ford’s eyes. “You can’t die.”
Ford looked down at the tiny face pressed against the blanket. The baby’s breathing was soft and steady. He swallowed. “Alright, kid,” he murmured. “You heard your mama.”
TEVENNE CHANNEL – RESCUE CUTTER
The patrol cutter crashed through the gray water, its bow slamming into the swells left behind by the storm. Inside the cabin, Hunter stood over the stretcher as the boat pitched beneath them. Rourke braced himself against the wall. Beside him, Marino and Davis checked equipment.
Hunter spoke in rapid fire. “Here’s the plan.” The engines roared louder as the boat hit another wave. “Marino and Davis, take care of the girl and the baby. Get a set of vitals on Mom and make sure the baby is breathing well. Keep them warm.”
Marino nodded. “Understood.”
Hunter pointed toward the stretcher. “Rourke, you, me and the rest of the team carry Ford out. Boarding, he gets two lines immediately. One O-neg.”
Marino secured two IV bags to the portable rack. Davis held up the oxygen kit.
“If his breathing is as bad as I think, we assist.” Hunter glanced through forward windows where the outline of Tevenne’s ridge was beginning to appear through the rain. “If the cabin stays dry long enough, I’ll do more.”
Rourke nodded. “You got it, Doc.”
The cutter surged forward through the dark water toward the broken island.
TEVENNE – ADMINISTRATION BUILDING
Water began moving inch by inch toward them, soaking the carpet. Ford sat slumped against the wall beside Dr. Blake’s heavy desk, the newborn tucked carefully in the crook of his arm. The baby’s warmth seeped faintly through the blankets.
Ford watched the tiny chest rise and fall. “Alright, kid, you and me just have to make it a little longer.”
Nadya knelt beside him, checking the bandage across his ribs again. She packed the last of the gauze on top of what was already there, her expression tight. “You’re bleeding through again.”
Ford didn’t bother arguing. “That tracks.”
She pulled the dressing as tightly as she could. The pressure made him grit his teeth, but he didn’t complain.
Outside, the storm still howled across the ridge, but beneath it, there was a sound. Ford tilted his head slightly as engines rumbled in the distance. He closed his eyes and chuckled. “They made it.”
Nadya looked toward the doorway. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah.”
The sound grew louder. The heavy throb of a cutter’s engines vibrated the walls.
Ford looked down at the baby again. “Told you.”
Nadya quickly lifted the newborn from his arms and placed him back into the plastic bin lined with blankets. She swaddled another blanket around him. “Stay warm,” she whispered.
Outside, voices suddenly carried through the storm. “FORD!”
It was Rourke.
Ford forced himself to sit straighter. “In here.” His voice barely carried.
“In here!” Nadya yelled.
Footsteps splashed through the flooded hallway. A moment later, the door burst open.
Rourke appeared first, drenched and breathing hard. Behind him came Marino, Davis, and Hunter. And behind them, Garcia, Michaels and two more operators.
For a split second, they all froze when they saw the scene. Water was creeping across the floor. Ford was slumped against the wall, his head against the arm of the couch, Nadya beside him. The baby was inside a plastic bin.
Hunter moved first. “Jesus.” He crossed the room quickly and dropped beside Ford.
“Hey.”
Ford managed a tired smile. “Took you long enough.”
Hunter immediately pulled away the bandage across Ford’s ribs. The wound beneath was deep and jagged, running from his armpit toward his sternum.
Blood soaked through the multiple layers of gauze. Hunter swore under his breath.
“Rourke, IVs now, can’t wait till the boat.”
Davis moved to Nadya. “Hey, Nadya, you and the baby first.”
Nadya nodded quickly as Marino picked up the plastic bin. The baby stirred but didn’t cry.
Davis lifted her and carried her through the water toward the door. “Boat’s holding position.”
The wind whipped through the broken hallway as Rourke slid a catheter into Ford’s arm. “Line one.”
Hunter pressed fresh gauze hard against the wound. When Ford sucked in a sharp breath, he muttered, “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.”
“Doc, can’t get a peripheral. Going for an EJ. Ford, big stick. Line two,” Rourke said, placing the IV. Ford hissed.
Hunter looked at Ford. “Can you breathe?”
“Sort of.”
“That’s not comforting.” They slid the stretcher beside him. “On three,” Hunter said.
“One.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
When the other operators and Rourke lifted Ford carefully onto the stretcher, pain exploded across his ribs. He clenched his jaw but stayed conscious.
“Easy,” Hunter said as they carried him down the flooded hallway toward the door.
Outside, the storm hit them full force again. Wind slammed against their faces. Rain soaked everything instantly. Below the stone wall, the inflatable boat pitched violently in the water beside the patrol cutter.
“Lower him!”
They maneuvered the stretcher down the ladder carefully while the crew held the boat steady. A wave slammed against the inflatable’s hull, and the ladder rattled. “Hold it!”
Hunter climbed down beside the stretcher. “Easy… easy…”
They pulled Ford into the inflatable. Rourke climbed in beside him and immediately squeezed the IV bag. “You’re still with us.”
Ford raised a thumb. Nadya and the baby sat at the front of the boat wrapped in patrol blankets.
Rourke was the last into the boat and grabbed the side rail. “Go!”
The pilot gunned the throttle. The inflatable surged away from the wall and raced toward the waiting cutter through the rough water.
Through slitted eyes, Ford watched the broken island recede behind them. The administration building disappeared into the rain. He closed his eyes completely.
Hunter shook his shoulder. “You did good.”
Ford glanced toward the front of the boat where the newborn slept inside the plastic bin.
“So did he.”
The inflatable slammed against the cutter’s side. Hands grabbed the stretcher. They hauled Ford up onto the deck.
Hunter stayed beside him as the operators secured the lines. Inside the cabin, he put Ford on oxygen. He didn’t need to take Ford’s vital signs to see how dire things were for him.
“Course set for Kasavoa!” someone shouted from the bridge.
The cutter turned hard and surged back toward open water.
KASAVOA – TRAUMA ROOM
The trauma bay became a storm of its own. Lights blazed overhead. Instruments lined the stainless-steel table. Two nurses prepped IV lines while another checked the ventilator.
Eira tied her surgical mask and checked the monitor setup again. “Blood ready?”
“Two units O-negative,” a nurse replied.
“Good. CBC, CMP, PT, APTT, UA, and type and cross for six units.” She moved toward the operating room doors. “We’ll stabilize first.”
The radio crackled on the counter. Hunter’s voice came through over the static, “Eira.”
She grabbed it immediately. “Yes.”
“We’ve got him.”
Her chest tightened. “How bad?”
There was a pause on the other end. “Bad.” Hunter continued quickly, “We’re heading back now.”
Eira forced herself to breathe steadily. “Trauma room is ready.”
Hunter’s voice came again. “No.”
She frowned. “What?”
“We’re going straight to the OR.”
Eira didn’t hesitate. “Understood.”
She set the radio down and turned to the surgical team. “Change of plan.” The room stilled. “Prep the operating theater.”
KASAVOA – OPERATING ROOM
Eira stood under the bright surgical lights, already gloved and masked. The trauma team moved around her preparing instruments.
The radio on the counter crackled. Hunter’s voice came through. “Eira. He went into respiratory arrest ten minutes ago. Can’t tube in the boat.”
Her pulse spiked. “OR is ready.”
Hunter’s voice came back firm. “Good.”
“As soon as I get an airway, we’re coming straight there.”
Eira looked toward the operating table. “Understood.”
KASAVOA – DOCKS
The patrol cutter slammed into the harbor harder than the crew would have liked, but no one complained. “Lines!”
Dockhands grabbed the ropes and hauled the cutter tight against the fenders. Floodlights cut through the damp morning air. Medical personnel waited along the dock. Stretchers. Trauma kits. A neonatal transport unit.
At the end of the pier, Sam Halstead and Flynn Marsh stood, both already gloved and ready. Behind them, the rest of the Eagle’s Talon operators stood in a tight line, waiting for the stretcher. The gangway dropped.
“Move!”
By the time they reached Kasavoa, Ford had stopped breathing on his own. Hunter knelt over him, squeezing the bag-valve mask rhythmically. “Come on,” he muttered under his breath. “Stay with me.”
Rourke held the IV lines steady and leaned over the rail. “Stretcher!”
Hands reached up and grabbed the frame as Ford was lifted off the deck.
Sam stepped forward immediately. “What do we have?”