Page 26 of Raven's Curse
Sticking out from behind one of the wooden boxes.
Overly white in the harsh beam.
Chase ran the last several feet, dropping to his knees once he’d reached the woman. Blonde. Slim build wearing scrubs and a name tag.
Stacey Bradford.
He swallowed, noting the familiar curve of her face. She’d been Rhett’s nurse. Had always gone that extra mile to keep him comfortable, often allowing Chase and his buddies to visit after hours.
He checked a pulse. Weak but there.
Greer stopped behind him, her flashlight dancing over Stacey. “Christ.”
He nodded, staring at the IV tubing twisted around her neck, a knot centered in front. Just like the mannequin inside. Her head tilted off to one side, streaks of mascara staining her cheeks.
He looked up at Greer. “I have to remove the tubing. Reposition her.”
“Whatever you need. Lives, first. Evidence later.”
He went to work, easing the line free before checking her vitals. “She’s not breathing. Call Kash. I need to know if he’s here yet.”
Chase started rescue breathing, mentally keeping time, as Greer grabbed her cell — had Kash’s line ringing in the distance as she shifted around him, looking as if she wanted to cover every angle while still keeping the woman encased in that circular beam.
Kash answered on the first ring. “Talk to me Greer.”
“Hold for Chase…” She placed the cell next to Chase’s head.
Chase grunted, pausing for only a second. “Where are you?”
“Just pulling up beside Greer’s Bronco.”
“My bag’s in the back. Grab it and haul ass to the rear courtyard. Stick together and make sure Nyx is on high alert.”
Kash ended the call, the emptiness a stark reminder of how the previous night had ended. Greer had Shirley on the line next, calling in backup, emergency services. Hell, everyone.
Kash rounded the facility a minute later, Nyx practically frothing at the mouth, hackles raised. She’d obviously picked up a scent based on the way she dug in with every stride, tugging against Kash’s hold. Jordan kept pace, flashlight in one hand, KaBar in the other. Looking every inch the seasoned Shadow Ops agent she’d once been.
Kash handed off Nyx to Jordan, then dropped down on the other side, opening Chase’s bag. “Tell me what you need, buddy.”
“Nothing’s getting through. Her throat must be too damaged from the trauma. I need that seven-millimeter endotracheal tube and laryngoscope.”
Kash didn’t miss a beat, handing him the instrument and supplies. Helping position Stacey as Chase attempted to intubate.
He cursed, trying several times before shifting back over. “Airway’s obstructed and we’re already two minutes in. She won’t last much longer without oxygen. Cric kit.”
Kash handed it over, then swabbed her skin. Chase focused on the woman’s neck, slicing through flesh and membranes before inserting the large-bore tube.
He secured everything, then wiggled his fingers. “Bag.”
Kash took over bagging her once Chase had it in place, freeing him to get the IV going, meds on standby as he did a quick body scan. He checked her pulse. Weaker. Pressure ninety over sixty and dropping.
Chase shook his head. “She’s crashing.”
Greer gripped his shoulder. “I’ve notified everyone, but there’s been multiple calls for ambulances, and your night crew’s aiding a water rescue.”
“She’s not going to last long enough for them to get here.” He cursed when nothing moved beneath his fingertips. “Damn it. Starting compressions. C’mon, Stacey. Don’t give up on me, now.”
Jordan raced back from the facility a moment later carrying a portable defibrillator, Nyx at her side. “I thought this might help.”
