Page 74 of Code Name: Tank
“Tank?” my father’s strong voice answered.
“It’s Piper, Dad. I’m afraid I’m going to lose her.”
“We’re on our way.”
22
DRAGON
The first thing I became aware of was the steady beeping of machines. The sound cut through the fog in my mind like a lighthouse beacon, pulling me toward consciousness. My throat felt raw and dry, and my chest tight with an odd pulling sensation that made breathing feel deliberate rather than automatic.
I tried to open my eyes, but the effort felt monumental. My eyelids were heavy, weighted down by whatever medication they’d pumped into my system. When I finally managed to crack them open, harsh fluorescent light made me wince.
Hospital. I was in a hospital.
Memory came flooding back in fragments—a spray of bullets, pain exploding through my body as I hit the ground.
Tank.
I turned my head slightly, fighting the dizziness that threatened to pull me back under, and saw him. He was slumped in a chair beside my bed, his head tilted at an uncomfortable angle against the high back. Even in sleep, one of his hands rested protectively on the edge of my mattress, fingers brushing mine, as if he couldn’t bear to break the contact completely.
He looked exhausted. His hair was disheveled, stubble darkened his jaw, and there were deep lines of fatigue etched around his eyes. He wore a white K19 polo shirt and jeans, but nothing could hide the bone-deep weariness that spoke of days spent keeping vigil. How long had he been here?
I tried to speak, but only a hoarse whisper emerged. “Tank.”
His eyes snapped open immediately, the alertness of someone who’d been sleeping with one ear open. When he saw that I was awake, his entire face transformed. Relief. Joy. Love.
“Piper.” My name came out as a prayer on his lips. He leaned forward, his hand covering mine completely. “Thank God. How do you feel?”
I tried to assess my condition. There was a tube snaking from my chest, its clear plastic disappearing beneath bandages. An IV line fed into my left arm, and monitors tracked my vital signs with insistent beeping. Everything felt distant and muffled, like I was experiencing it through thick glass.
“Alive,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. “What happened? How long?—”
“Three days,” Tank said, his thumb stroking across my knuckles. “You’ve been in and out since surgery, but this is the first time you’ve been truly lucid.”
Three days. No wonder he looked exhausted. “Have you been here the entire time?”
Tank’s sheepish expression was answer enough. “They tried to make me leave. Hospital policy about visiting hours. I may have been less than cooperative about that.”
“Tank,” I said, my voice still scratchy.
“I’m fine,” he said automatically, then caught my skeptical look. “Okay, maybe I haven’t been eating much. But Alice brought me coffee and sandwiches yesterday. And Admiral stopped by, though I didn’t let him wake you.”
Despite everything, I felt my lips curve upward. Of course he’d refused to leave. This was Tank—steadfast, protective, unwilling to abandon someone he cared about. The complete opposite of?—
“Flint,” I said suddenly, my memory sharpening. “Is he?—”
“Alive and recovering. Atticus got him out.” Tank’s expression grew more serious. “Hartwell is dead, Piper. The hostiles took him out.”
I closed my eyes and nodded. Maybe there’d come a time when I could cry for the man, but right now, there were too many unanswered questions.
“According to Flint, Hartwell got mixed up with the Zaristani. Apparently, they were blackmailing him,” he added. “That’s all I know right now.”
The information should have brought relief, but all I could focus on was the man beside me. The man who’d stayed for three days, who’d refused to leave my side, who’d fought to save my life even when everything was falling apart around us.
“I’m thirsty,” I whispered, my throat feeling like sandpaper.
Tank immediately reached for a cup on the bedside table, adjusting the straw so I could grab it without straining. “Small sips,” he said gently, his free hand supporting the back of my head. “The nurse said not to rush it.”
