Page 153 of Kai
“I’ll take you to him.” Dash motioned to the rungs. I had millions of questions for him, and his eyes, too, sparkled with questions for me, but he only asked one. “Are you ready to return to Astor House?”
“Yes.” I surprised him and myself with my next words. “I want to go home.”
Chapter Forty-nine
Kai
Aboard the submarine, the guys crowded the small sick bay. Tracker Team’s corpsman, Matt Ferranti, my green-eyed, curly-haired friend, teamed up with the sub’s corpsman to doctor me. Medicated, sutured, hydrated, dried, warmed, and fed, I felt like a new man. The sub’s corpsman took his leave as soon as Dagger and Bozeman arrived. As for Guzman, he hadn’t stopped pestering me since he had bullied his way into the room.
Propped on a couple of regulation pillows, I sat on the narrow cot, leaning against the wall, surrounded by the purr of the engines. No windows, no wind, not even a peek of the ocean. Good thing I wasn’t claustrophobic.
At this depth, the sub was stable, even though my body somehow registered the movement as it raced to drop us off. I’d been talking to Dagger for a while, answering his questions, and reporting the details of my mission and our fight to defeat Levine. It was my turn to ask questions now.
“You’ve got the bastard secured?” I asked.
“Packed like canned tuna.” It was Guzman who answered.
“I’ve assigned an entire unit to transport duty,” Bozeman volunteered. “Cooper is with them. He’s got control of Levine.”
Fin Cooper was our team’s sniper, a strapping blond with a big beard and a mountain man vibe. An excellent marksman, Coop always shot to kill. So, yeah. I wasn’t worried.
“Once we’re back on land, we’ll have some long, extended talks with the bastard,” Dagger said.
“It’s a pretty epic story.” Ferranti grinned as he bandaged my mangled chest.
“One for the annals,” Bozeman agreed.
“Annals?”I pretended to scratch my head. “Tracker Team’s got annals?”
“Allow me to translate,” Guzman quipped. “What Bozeman means is that Tracker Team has anuses. Sounds right. We’ve plenty of assholes.”
Everyone laughed, even the boss.
“You should know,” Dagger said, looking unusually pleased with us and with himself. “Serenityis underway and heading to port.”
“Mahalo.” I set my hand over my chest and dipped my head. My team always had my back, and after a few repairs,Serenitywould sail again.
“How the hell did the lot of you hitch a ride on a submarine?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Guzman seconded, eyeing Dagger. “I wanna know, too.”
“That’s classified information,” Bozeman announced formally.
“I made a phone call.” Dagger surprised the hell out of me by answering. “The NWO is a national security threat. The cogs engaged, the wheels got turning, and the Navy and the Coast Guard wanted in the action. The President is grateful for your service to the country.”
“The President?”I whistled aloud. “You’ve got friends in high places.”
“I always knew you were fancy, boss,” Guzman teased. “I just didn’t know how fancy.”
“Let’s just say that our leader accessed his excellent connections and drop the subject.” Bozeman’s suggestion was an order. “Are we clear?”
“Clear as mud,” Goof teased, then returned his attention to me as Ferranti secured the bandage and a wince twisted mylips. “Do you need me to hold your hand?”
“Fuck off.” I teased him with a shove. “You don’t got a pretty face and pale blue eyes that melt my insides. That’s about the only remedy I need.”
Goof glanced over his shoulder before he wiggled his eyebrows at me. “You’re in luck. Your medicine just arrived.”
I spotted Cece sliding through a narrow gap in the door and squeezing herself into the tiny room. She was dry and safe, even if the smudges under her eyes revealed she was still tired. The sub’s corpsman had taken care of her, and Dagger had ensured she was warm, hydrated, and fed. Wearing an oversized T-shirt and a pair of sweats that swam around her hips and legs, she met my gaze.
