Page 19 of Lucky Charm
But there was no answer.
Certainty flaring in his gut, he increased the pace. “Report,” he said quietly into his mic.
Doogie answered. “Men gathering with Haquiri at the back of the house, but so far, it seems like a social gathering.”
“Don’t count on it. Get the vehicles ready,” Hunt ordered.
He could be wrong. He hoped he was wrong. He’d take the ribbing if it came to that, but he wasn’t wrong.
Clusterfuck.
Chapter Three
Cait hurried through the tight wrap of the boy’s broken leg and foot. The surgery hadn’t taken long, which begged the question of why they hadn’t driven him to a hospital for the procedure instead of making such a fuss about in-home care. His bones had been in better shape than expected, and Cait couldn’t help the feeling of something off.
Anxious to be done, she made herself slow and finish the wrapping right. The boy would not have a cast because it wasn’t practical applying in this environment. He’d have to visit a hospital later to get that service. Carter moved around the table, detached the IV, and straightened supplies, repacking her gear.
Everyone was antsy including the man who’d greeted them at the door who was now sitting in the dining room with the boy’s mother. The fresh-faced kid in the corner acting as guard couldn’t stand still either.
K-Rock stood at her back, still and alert. While it comforted, the presence of the two men stirred her anxiety.
The door squeaked open, and Hunt appeared at her empty side a minute later. His body movements suggested calm, but he whispered in her ear, “Hurry. We have to move.”
She looked at him, saw hardness in his eyes as he glanced around the room. “How fast?” She matched her whisper to his.
“Now. We’re going to be in a ton of hurt if we don’t.”
Accepting his decision as fact, she finished off the wrapping in several swift moves and tightened the fastening. The mother rose from the floor, sensing the change. She snapped off her gloves and gown, making one final check on the boy’s vitals.
“Come on, Doc,” Hunt whispered.
She nodded. “We’re finished. He’s all yours,” she called to the door man.
Carter spit terse instructions in Pashto to the man for the boy to stay off his feet until they could visit a hospital then yanked off his gown, too. The disparity between the hospital green and his Spec Ops gear jarred.
“Let’s go.” Hunt handed over her heavy coat. She fought with the sleeves to get into her coat and wrapped the scarf around her neck. She slipped past K-Rock and through the door, still struggling with the zipper. Carter followed behind with her bag and the drug box. Outside the wind had increased, clouds were laying low again, a storm hovering on the horizon.
Hunt slapped the back door of their vehicle open, weapon in hand. “Move, Doc.”
She didn’t ask questions, but swiftly shifted into the vehicle.
She settled into her seat and looked over as Baxter shoved open a door and entered. Gone was the friendly young man. Warrior was in his face and posture. She shivered violently – from surgical letdown, the cold, or fear – more likely all the above.
Hunt slid into the front, his face a hard mask. “Get us out of here.”
“My equipment?” Cait felt compelled to ask for the hospital’s sake. The surgical setup would take time to replace, plus she’d signed for the equipment.
“Can’t grab the rest. Go,” Hunt ordered, looking behind him.
Carter pulled away from the house, accelerating rapidly, jostling Cait in her seat.
“Alpha Three?” Hunt growled into his mic.
She couldn’t hear the reply. “Something I should know?”
Hunt twisted in his seat to look at her. His eyes looked like her Hunt, but the fierceness was pure fighter. “Something coming at us from the southwest. Unverified but not the storm. Looks like a convoy. I’m thinking something’s up, and we’re not going to like it. Watch for ambush. Keep your head down.”
The news had her swallowing hard, but she was safe with the best, not stranded in that house. She struggled to keep from asking questions she knew Hunt wouldn’t answer.
