Page 122 of Zorro

The man nodded, offering his hand. “Dr. Adriano Pereira. I’m the attending veterinarian who treated your military working dog, Flint.”

Joker’s brows lifted, but he took the hand without hesitation.

“Fine animal,” Dr. Pereira said. “Smart. Loyal. I’ve rarely seen a dog so…deliberate. Your handler takes excellent care of him.”

“How is he?” Joker asked quietly, and every person behind him stilled to listen.

“He sustained a mild concussion, multiple contusions, and a deep laceration along his left flank. I cleaned and stitched it. No internal damage, though he’s favoring the leg. I’ve prescribed fluids, pain control, and mandatory rest.” The doctor gave a faint smile. “Yes, he’ll be allowed to recover in Petty Officer Locklear’s room. I’ve already arranged for a crate, but I suspect he won’t stay in it long.”

A few of them chuckled softly.

Dr. Pereira’s gaze swept the group. “Anything else I can do for him or for you, please don’t hesitate.”

Joker nodded once, quiet gratitude in his eyes. “Thank you. He’s not just a dog. He’s family.”

“I could tell,” the vet said simply. “It was an honor.”

Then he turned and left with the same quiet dignity he’d arrived with, leaving behind a room that, for the first time in hours, felt like it might just hold.

The hallway had quieted, the crisis past, but its echo lingered. Breaths still came too fast. Muscles were still coiled with adrenaline. But Zorro and Bear were alive. Flint was resting. The team, for the first time since the world went to hell, was standing whole again.

Joker turned to Everly, his expression unreadable for a beat, then softened just enough to give her something like a smile.

“I think at the very least,” he said, “we owe you some lunch.”

D-Day snorted. “None of this hospital crap either. We’re talking real food. Steak. Potatoes.”

Buck said, “I need liquor.”

Before Everly could respond, a blur of motion caught her eye. The women crowded around her, Pippa, Julia, Izzy, Bree, Maritza, Helen, closing the distance in a rush of limbs and breath and grateful noise.

They all spoke at once, voices overlapping like birds at sunrise.

“Oh my God, you were unbelievable?—”

“Someone said you knocked Joker on his ass while barking orders?—”

“Jesus, Everly, you need water, food, a blanket?—”

“You’ve got free coffee for life?—”

D-Day muttered affectionately, “Bunch of magpies.”

Everly laughed weakly and turned toward Pippa, breath catching. “I’m afraid I ruined your beautiful outfit. Blood doesn’t wash easily out of silk and lace.”

Pippa waved her off with a smile and a gleam in her eye. “Not to worry. I can replace it easily.” Her hand found Everly’s and squeezed tight. “You saved what is irreplaceable.”

Julia pulled her into a hug that was gentle but unshakable. “You did more than save them. You reminded all of us who we are. You’re part of us now, Everly. You don’t get to forget that.”

Maritza cupped her face in both hands, kissed her cheek, then said fiercely, “I will never forget what you did. Not ever.”

Izzy’s hug came last, quick, hard, protective. “If you ever doubt it again, I’ll personally drag your ass into the next family dinner and seat you between Joker and Gator so you can't escape the truth.”

Everly smiled through the tears that wouldn’t wait anymore. “Exactly what I needed.”

She was passed back into the circle of SEALs then, where D-Day stepped forward, his expression gruff but unguarded now. “You proved me wrong, Doc.” He gave a short, breathy laugh, more exhale than humor. “Didn’t think I’d be glad to eat my words.” His eyes met hers. “But I am.”

Everly reached out and squeezed his hand, firm and steady. “I’m glad about that, too…Drew.”

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