Chapter 59
Austin
Rogers and his team arrived just in time. No one else was in the room, so when the bastard pointing a gun at my head dropped dead, I assumed a sniper was responsible. The second guy dropped dead before I could contemplate who took the shot.
Barely a second later, two men rappelled into the room through a high window.
Knowing they’d need to get into the other room fast to maintain the element of surprise, I pointed at the door and said, “Nina.”
“Get a tourniquet on him,” one guy said.
“On it,” Gibson answered, already kneeling next to me. While he applied the tourniquet to my leg, he said, “I’ve got him. Go.”
The other guy walked toward the door.
“You look like shit, Boss.” I watched him assess my face through a red haze.
“You look great for a dead man.” How he understood what I’d said, I’d never know. Between the broken nose and swollen lips, I barely sounded human.
The room went dark.
“Who told you I was dead?” G asked while doing a head to toe assessment using his headlamp for light. His groping fingers found every bruise, cut, and broken bone.
“I assumed,” I coughed and tasted fresh blood, “you didn’t get up.”
He chuckled. “Not right away, but I’d never let a little thing like death keep me down.”
Our conversation was one-hundred percent inappropriate given the circumstances, but one-hundred percent necessary because there was literally nothing I could do but wait for Rogers and his team to clear the other room.
“All clear,” G relayed.
“Nina?”
“Status on Novak.”
I held my breath and waited.
“She passed out after she heard you were alive.”
I hated thinking it, but unconsciousness was probably the best thing for her.
They hadn’t put her through a lot physically, but what they’d put her through mentally and emotionally was worse.
Strong or not, she’d need therapy when this was over.
So would I.
The lights came back on.
“Can you hop if I support you?”
Probably not. Between the pain, the blood loss, and my blown out knee, the idea of hopping made me want to vomit.
But I’d try.
We’d taken two steps before G called over to the guy at the door. “Help me carry him out.”
Out? No, I needed to see Nina.
“Nina.”
“Calm down, Winchester, that’s where we’re taking you.”
Two men supporting me by my overworked shoulders was painful, but significantly better than me having to put any pressure on my lower body.
The nameless, faceless guy helping G support me relayed to his team that we were on the move.
As we walked, as they carried me, into the large warehouse room, the metallic tang of blood filled my nose.
Shepherd Security was already moving the dead bodies towards the back door.
Nina lay on the floor, pale and unmoving.
No. No. No. She can’t be dead. Surely G would’ve told me.
“Nina!” My attempt to rush forward resulted in me crumbling towards the ground.
Thankfully, G and Rogers’ teammate had fast reflexes, or I would’ve face planted.
“She’s fine,” Rogers said as the two men supporting me lowered me to the ground beside Rogers and Nina.
“What’d you give her?” I grunted out. Now that my adrenaline was wearing off, the pain was coming in fast and hot.
“A sedative so she’ll stay unconscious until SSI gets you both to the hospital.”
“SSI?” I hoped he understood the question, because it was getting harder to talk.
“Waiting impatiently at the perimeter.”