Page 69 of Baby One Last Time
Mai glanced at me, and I knew she was hiding something.
“He can handle it, and we all need to know,” I told her.
“There’s no exit wound,” she said. “Which means the bullet’s probably lodged in the bone.”
“He won’t be able to put any weight on it,” I said.
“He’s still here,” Derek said. “And he thinks he can walk. Or hobble.” He jerked forward and nearly collapsed. “Give me a minute.”
“No.” I gestured to Mai, and she helped me sit him in one of the leather office chairs that surrounded the table where it appeared Derek and the now-dead guy had been playing cards to pass the time. I knelt beside him. “Mai, give him your pistol. We’ll hold our position while you get help.”
Evidence of her thoughts flashed across her face. She didn’t want to agree. Leave no man behind, let alone two. But I was right.
“I know,” I said. “Fuck me, too.”
She handed Derek a pistol and pulled her rifle off her shoulder. “Those alarms change everything,” she said. “If anyone who isn’t in HEAT darkens that door, you drop them with live rounds, no questions asked.”
“Roger that,” I said.
She glanced at Derek and clenched her jaw. Yeah, he was looking worse by the minute. “I’ll be back in a flash with backup,” she promised, and then she was gone.
I shifted, planning to take up a position in the doorway with my gun aimed at the far end of the hallway. But Derek groaned when I moved, and I realized he still had his arm around my shoulder, and the weight of him there was increasing. I was holding him up.
I glanced at his leg. Mai had rolled up his pants, and the gauze, wrapped so tightly it was cutting into his skin, was already soaked with his blood. I gasped.
White noise in my ear made me jump.
“Tactical, do you copy?”
“Roger that!” I yelled. I’d never been so thrilled to hear TJ’s voice in my life. “I can hear you, Command. We have a man down. Repeat, man down! He’s located where we expected him, and Mai’s on her way to get Bond.”
“Roger that, Kessler,” TJ responded, “but we need you to hold position until we secure loose targets.”
The feed clicked and I heard his voice from farther away. “Kessler, it’s Alder. Command is coordinating with Sparks. Targets are on the run. We’re tracking them and are sweeping them up, but three are unaccounted for.”
Three men in the wind. Or making their way toward Derek’s and my position.
I shifted, still supporting Derek’s weight, and trained my pistol on the door. “Roger that,” I said. “But tell Sparks to hurry the fuck up. There’s a lot of blood here.”
“Roger that,” Alder said, then clicked off her feed, probably conferring with TJ.
After what could have been half a minute or half a year, I heard Jensen’s voice on the line. “Hey Kessler, it’s your favorite bartender here with an update.” A valiant attempt to keep me calm.
“Cut to the chase, Jensen,” I said. “I don’t need your bullshit.”
Another second of dead air, then TJ responded. “Okay, Kessler, Lee took out one of the missing targets on her way out of the house, but we’ve still got two off the radar. Beecher and his body man.”
Derek groaned beside me. His eyes had drifted closed. I nudged him in his ribs but didn’t get a response.
“I understand, Command,” I said, digging deep into a place I didn’t even know I had to hold it together. “But we have a situation here. Too much blood loss. I have to drop position to tie a tourniquet.”
At least six different voices muttered some version of Jensen’s favorite saying.
“I’m heading in,” Bond said.
“Not until it’s clear,” TJ said. He was right as far as team safety was concerned. But the most important part of my team—and of my life—was bleeding out in front of me.
“TJ, please,” I begged.
