Page 65 of Lucky Charm
Tommy tossed another grenade to add to the chaos. The explosion caused the truck behind to jam on its brakes, but not soon enough. The back truck slid in the dirt and clipped the edge of the damaged vehicle, sparks flying, metal squealing. Both trucks came to a stop in a mangled mass of metal. Stunned men jumped from the wreckage, several still firing weapons, but on foot they were no match for the speed of the SUVs.
No other combatants appeared. Apparently, their plan was one-fold.
Several minutes later, they approached the intersection.
Hunt hit his mic. “Slow. Stop. Switch vehicles. Get Carter to Bax.”
Doogie answered. “Copy.”
The lead vehicle swerved, then stopped in the middle of the dirt-packed road. Carter braked to a halt behind them. He exited the vehicle and went for his medical pack in the back with Tommy. Hernandez shifted out and slid into the driver’s seat to replace him.
“Doog, go first. We’ll guard the back. As soon as I have a signal, I’ll see if a med evac is available. Give me Bax’s status when Carter has it.”
“Copy, LT.”
Doog wasted no time getting the vehicle moving. Hernandez was right behind him.
“Our friends seem to have decided not to engage again.” Tommy scratched his ear. “That’s no fun. Honestly, I think these guys don’t like us.”
Hunt snorted and scanned the area. “Makes you wonder what they’re hiding, doesn’t it?”
“Oh, definitely.” Tommy took his weapon back from Hunt and turned to the rear window. Nothing was there but dust, gray skies, rolling plains, rocks, and a few snowflakes. The cold air flowing through the window chilled the interior and Hunt took a moment to tighten his jacket.
Wonder what Doc was going to say when she saw another one of them was injured?
Chapter Twelve
A commotion at the entrance to the ER snagged Cait’s attention. She moved with her usual patient-care urgency, but stumbled when she saw Carter. Her heart throbbed, and a breath jammed in her throat. Her mind screamed anothat reverberated to her pulse points.
The medic stood to the side of the gurney. Dirty, bloody, and tired, Carter kept his hand on the patient. Regaining her composure, she reassured herself. It couldn’t be Hunt. The man lying there wasn’t tall enough.
She glared at Carter. “What? You thought you had to give me another challenge?”
Carter shrugged. “Sorry, Doc.”
Thank God it wasn’t Hunt. Thank God.
No wonder he hadn’t answered the five messages she’d left on the cellphone number he gave her. He hadn’t been there. But what in the hell was she doing getting in so deep with a man who could get killed at any minute?
Who was this?
The corpsmen shifted the patient to the table.
She leaned over the injured man and gasped. “Baxter, dammit. What did you do?”
Carter came to her side. “He’s been unconscious, Doc. He’s lost a lot of blood. Bullet, unknown type, left leg. Possibly nicked the artery. The bullet is still there.” He gave her the vitals.
She snapped on gloves and leaned over the man to find the bullet hole. “Get him out of these clothes,” she directed the one woman and two men of her team.
She turned back to Carter. “How long ago?”
“Ninety minutes. Approximate. Forty-five or so since they got IVs and blood started.”
She waved the answer away and started snapping orders at the personnel. His vitals weren’t good. “His blood type?”
Carter gave it to her, and she ordered blood and x-rays. Her medical team moved in fast, choreographed steps, getting all her items accomplished so they could take Baxter to surgery.
Duncan Moss joined her at the table, making his own quick assessment. “You handling this one?”
