Chapter 39
ETHAN
I had to remain on the floor while the medic finished bandaging my back.
I watched as the other one helped Olivia stand and lean against the desk, then fetched her pants from the floor.
He guided her feet to step into them, one at a time, being careful of her battered knee.
I was grateful for the amount of care the man gave her, when I couldn’t right now.
As we waited for someone to raid Valentina Abramo’s closet for a top for Olivia, she threaded her good arm through the sleeve of my jacket, which hung down to mid-thigh on her.
It reminded me of when she’d put on my gray jacket in Africa, zipping it all the way up like she could keep me away. Futile, that’s what it had been. I couldn’t stay away.
It had been nice to say that out loud, even though she didn’t understand.
Tragar brought me a shirt that was much too small, and I left it unbuttoned, rolling the sleeves back.
“Hendrix wants you two out of Italy,” he said. “The helicopter will take you and Giovanni to Landstuhl.”
She gave a sharp gasp.
Fuck. It wasn’t like I could argue with him, but I wished it were different. I didn’t want to put her through those hellish memories again. But her wrist was broken, and resetting the bone might require surgery, and I was going to need a CAT scan to make sure the knife hadn’t done anything serious.
She was tough, though, sucking it up. We limped together on our wounded knees to the chopper and climbed in, staring at Gio, who looked dead, but the medic watching the IV in Gio’s arm claimed he wasn’t.
She sat to my left, but leaned close, setting the flat of her palm against the bare skin of my chest where the shirt wouldn’t close. The vibration of the chopper made everything ache, but the warmth of her hand on me made it bearable.
When we landed on the helipad at Landstuhl, she drew away, tension seizing her.
I sensed what this was, how she was retreating into herself, which was more than understandable.
She was overwhelmed by the long, unbelievably intense day, and the memories of her past. There was nothing I could do about it.
We had to part only minutes after walking off the helipad, and I told her I’d find her as soon as I could.
While I waited for my scan results, I called Laurel.
“Is everything okay?” she asked. “Is Olivia—”
“She’s safe. We’re all right.”
I meant only in the sense we’d survived. Olivia’s scream when Vitale brought the rod down on her forearm would probably haunt me the rest of my life. I tried to block it out.
“How’s Jason?”
“Surgery went well. He’s awake now, kind of grumpy.”
“Yeah, getting shot will do that to you.” My voice went serious. “I’m calling to let you know the people responsible for that . . . it’s been handled.”
There was a pause. “How?”
I told her the story, as much as I could, and when it was done, it was as if I could feel the weight rising off her shoulders all the way over in Munich.
“It’s over. You and Jason should be able to go home.” Home to the U.S. if they wanted.
She took a deep breath. “I think we’re already home, but thank you. God, thank you for everything.”
The sincerity in her words stayed with me long after the call ended.
The scan cleared me, and as I lay on my stomach on a table with a technician stitching me closed, the director of my field office, James Hendrix, waltzed in.
I took one look at him and didn’t bother with a greeting. I got right to the point, anger burning up my throat. “I’m fucking done.”
“Don’t worry, this stunt made it clear you can’t be operational right now.” He turned his attention to the technician. “I need to speak with this man alone.”
The tech paused his work. “I’ll be done soon.”
“I can finish it up.” Hendrix didn’t wait for a response. He moved to the sink, stepped on the pedal to start the water, and began to scrub his hands.
The guy glanced at me with concern, but I sighed. “It’s fine.”
The wound was on my back where I couldn’t see it, so I didn’t care much if Hendrix did a shit job.
He finished washing his hands, pulled a mask from the dispenser mounted on the wall, and hooked the loops over his ears so it covered his mouth.
Next, he tugged a pair of gloves from a box and snapped them on.
There was no further discussion. The technician got up off his stool, demasked and degloved, and the door swung closed behind him as he left.
Hendrix sat on the stool and rolled over to my side. He picked up the tools and resumed the tech’s work, stitching my wound like this was something he’d done a hundred times before.
He was in his late fifties, and he’d done fieldwork for years before moving to the administrative side.
It made him a good director because he could relate with his agents and it gave him insight when making tough calls.
But it also made him a straight, direct man who didn’t like messes or mistakes, and I had made plenty of both.
“What happens now?” I asked, noting his casual attire. The director’s weekend had been interrupted.
“You go to Langley,” he said, “and they’ll decide when you’re ready for fieldwork again.”
Did he not understand what I meant? “I’m serious. The Croatian job was supposed to be the end, and that was nearly two years ago.”
“I don’t want to hear this again.” There was a snip of the scissors.
“Yeah, you wanted to keep Juric close, and you got overruled. But I did whatever the hell I could to fix that mess, so now you go to Langley for me. Take some time and get your head straight. We’ve put too much into you for you to walk away. ”
“I almost killed Vitale Abramo.” I needed him to know just how unstable I’d become, the emotions I couldn’t handle. “He’d be dead if she’d let me.”
Hendrix stopped, rolled over toward my head, and jerked his mask down to give me a hard, evaluating look. “It takes a toll. Believe me, I know that. You’ve been on your own for too long, and you need a break. All I’m telling you is to get grounded and come back.”
His mask was put back in place and he rolled back to my side, resuming the stitches.
“Forget it.”
“I’m not asking, Foster. You almost hung me out to dry here. Don’t make me do that to you, too.”
“Is that a threat?” I said, pushing up on my elbows.
He put the heel of his hand on my shoulder and eased me back down onto the table. “Calm down.”
There was one more snip, then the tools were set down on the tray nearby. He peeled off the gloves and dumped them in the trash.
“Talk to Langley. Fill out their paperwork, jump through their hoops, go visit family. Do whatever you need to do. Come back, and if you’re still done, I’ll believe it. But right now, this is a knee-jerk reaction.”
“It’s not.”
“You’re going to get bored.” Once again, he rolled over so he could look me in the eye. “Fill me in about Ms. Pierce and the nature of your relationship.”
That was a mess he wasn’t going to like. “We’re involved.”
“Since when?”
“Since South Africa.” The table was uncomfortable. “She had no idea who I was then.”
“Had? She knows now?” His eyebrow climbed toward the ceiling. “Is it ongoing?”
“Yes.”
He blinked, considered it, and then—wait. Was that a faint smile? “Well, that’s something. Good for you.”
“You’re okay with that?”
He laughed lightly. “No, of course not, but it’s too late now. I plan to keep you on the job, and it doesn’t sound as if you plan to give her up. I guess I’ll have to find a way to deal with it.”
I stared at the director in total disbelief.
Hendrix hadn’t been questioning me on a professional level, he’d been doing this to glean personal information, knowing this was the only way I’d divulge it.
“You care about the personal lives of your agents now?” I asked. “You’re going soft.”
He laughed again. “Not as soft as you, Foster.”