Joseph (13 page)

Joseph looked at the medical bag beside her. “Where did you find that?”

“Mike brought it. Said someone named Doc heard you were in poor shape and thought I might need it. It’s the best-stocked medical kit I have ever seen outside a hospital environment.”

Her hand reached over the sleeping man. “Joey, is he gone? The guy with the gun?”

He nodded and looked her in the eyes. “He’s gone. We need to get Chief in the cabin and call Jacob. This lug is going to be out of action for a while and I have to make a report.”

Joseph was exhausted beyond any comparison he could recall. Getting Chief into the cabin proved to be misery rolled into anguish and tied up with suffering, but he managed without passing out. Barely.

Once Chief was stabilized, Ember forced him face down on the bed and for the next two hours stitched Joseph’s lacerations closed. He refused anything other than a topical cream to lessen the pain. He had to stay alert until reinforcements arrived.

She made no attempt to hide her emotions. She caressed his cheek with her fingers. “You should be on IV antibiotics Joey. Your wounds are infected. If you don’t let me treat you soon, you will have wound sepsis and possible blood poisoning.”

He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm. “I’ll submit to whatever treatment you need me to as soon as someone arrives.” Drained of all energy, he sat emotionless as he watched Ember move from the living room into the second bedroom where he could hear Chief mumbling in his morphine-induced slumber.

Joseph concentrated on the task at hand. He hit redial and waited.

“Alpha.”

His response flat and to the point. “The contractor has been eliminated.”

“Area, connections, and visibility?” Jacob’s mind was obviously ticking off the boxes Joseph’s actions this afternoon had already covered.

“Area is clear, no connections and visibility is outward not inward. One non-lethal casualty, guarded condition with a seven point seven six millimeter round through and through to the left thigh, member sustained traumatic blood loss. Medical on scene apprises the member is down for at least a month.”

Joseph’s concise report provided a shockwave of information yet Jacob’s professionalism never slipped nor did Joseph’s. “Define outward visibility.”

“A paperback ledger showing payments and apparent routing or bank account numbers associated with the payments. Additionally, a computer was found. As the com specialist is down no attempted access to the hardware has been attempted.”

“I’m sending a courier to secure the outward visibility, team members and primary.” Jacob’s voice changed as he asked, “When are you considering engaging the target?”

Joseph closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. “I need help, little man. I’m tore up, I need rest and antibiotics. I have nothing left to give. I’ll hold out until you can get someone from the Annex out here. Once I’m patched up, I’ll work the target.”

Jacob’s pause lengthened. “Is there helicopter access?”

Joseph looked out to the field. “Yeah, meadow behind the house.”

“Help is on the way. Hold on bubba. I got your back.”

“Jacob?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Joseph cut the call before his brother could respond and looked at the email he had composed to his brother Jason, indicating a change to his last will and testament. Ember was to be his sole beneficiary for all his property and possessions. She would never have to worry about money as long as she lived. He watched her walk out of the kitchen as he hit the send button.

She came over to him and placed a warm hand on his cheek. “How long?” He pulled her towards him and rested his head against her midriff. “They’re dispatching a helicopter from the Annex. Maybe an hour or less depending on who is flying and what type of bird it is.”

Ember heard the helicopter before she saw the shadow of the massive machine drift over the cabin. The noise from the blades pulsed with a whopping thrum, shaking everything in the house. Loose grasses and leaves from the meadow launched in a frenzy of botanic debris as the massive dual rotor aircraft sank onto the field. Before the helicopter settled, two men jumped from the open side door. A hand held stretcher slapped the legs of the faster man as the two men raced towards the back porch.

Ember watched them both vault the three steps to the landing. A tall blond wearing an eye patch saw her first and headed directly to her.

“Dr. Adam Cassidy.”

“Dr. Ember Harris. Chief is stable but critical. Extensive blood loss. No broken bones that I could determine. Massive tissue damage. I performed primary field triage and sewed him up the best I could. He will need surgery to clean him out and assess the actual damage. I have him on a morphine drip, plasma, and ringers lactate. The idiot tried to macho up and move, so I put him out.”

Both men followed her into the second bedroom where Chief lay unconscious.

“Roger that. Dixon and I’ll get him ready for transport. Where’s Fury?”

Ember’s mind went blank.
Huh
? “What the hell is Fury?”

Both men stopped and looked at her as if she had three heads.

The doctor seemed to search for his words before he replied, “Umm…Joseph?”

“Joey? He finally agreed to take something for pain. He may have thought it was Tylenol. He is in the other bedroom.”

Doc chuckled and shook his head as he and the tall, sandy haired man easily moved Chief onto the stretcher. His words came slow and measured…almost hesitant. “Let me guess. It wasn’t.”

She suspected the doctor might have a slight speech impairment. His mind was sharp though.

Ember eyed the doctor and shook her head now leery that the man might report her deceit in dealing with her patient. “Drugging a patient without informed consent would be considered unethical. Anyway, you’ll need to run some labs but the wounds are definitely infected. His strength had returned and his injuries were repairing nicely until he went out into the hills. Whatever he had to do up there, it ruptured every laceration that had been remodeling. I believe he may be in the early stages of
septicemia. Now that he is out I have him on IV antibiotics.”

The doctor flew into a flurry of sign language and the younger man nodded and bent to lift the stretcher. As the men carried Mike out of the room, the younger one spoke. “Alright we’ll get Chief to the chopper and come back for Joseph. Pack everything you need. You won’t be coming back here. The location has been compromised.” Doc nodded in agreement.

“Ma’am, Fury…I mean Joseph…he recovered a backpack with a computer and a notebook this morning. We’ll need that too.”

“It’s all by the back door. Joey made me pack everything before he would take anything for his injuries.”

She watched the men make quick work of the transport and return quickly. They transferred and loaded Joseph and the bags before bundling her into the aircraft. Doc secured the side door and helped Ember strap in after he assisted her with her helmet.

“We’re heading to Guardian’s new training facility in South Dakota.” He looked out the window as if attempting to recall something. Just before they lifted off the ground he yelled, “A ranch in the middle of nowhere.”

“A ranch? Really?” Ember shouted back.

“Yeah. Good people.”

A disembodied voice came over the speaker in her helmet. “That’s affirmative ma’am. The Marshall ranch is our new training and recovery site. Chief runs it that’s why he was able to come out here to assist you.”

Ember had no idea which one of the two pilots spoke. She watched as the two men’s hands flew over switches, buttons, and LED displays. Doctor Cassidy sat between his two patients and performed all the tests she would have performed.

Left to her own thoughts, Em moved her foot to touch Joey’s as he lay face down on a stretcher. The mere contact grounded her. His wounds wept through the dressings. Looking out over the mountainous terrain, she fought back the tears that suddenly threatened. Seventy-two hours ago life had been so easy. Three days later the tally stood at four men dead, one man critically injured and Joey fighting off toxic infections sustained at the hands of God knows who. Joey. Fury. Assassin. Protector and lover. A deluge of realization hit her jolting her mind with the hard cold facts of exactly who Joseph King was. Oh God! No, no matter what he was, what he had done—she loved him. A single tear rolled down her cheek unchecked. So many lives wasted. So much pain and suffering endured.

*

Ember sat in the same place she’d been for the last seventy-two hours, Joey’s bedside. The plastic chair left a lot to be desired in the way of comfort. She needed sleep. Her judgment on any level was compromised. That’s why she pretended not to hear the exchange between Doctor Cassidy and the man who entered the facility. Frank Marshall had checked on the men several times in the past three days.

“Frank, do me a large and get these women out of here. Dr. Harris hasn’t slept more than a couple hours in days and Desiree is a wreck.”

Frank gave Doc a once over. “I can do that. What about you? You look like shit.”

Doc gave a humorless chuckle. “Sorry I don’t meet the Miss South Dakota beauty pageant standard.” The doctor nodded towards Ember. Frank waited as the doctor searched for the words his mind knew but couldn’t get his mouth to say. Ember had done the same since he told her about his brain injury and the lingering effects. Finally, he spoke. “Get them to stand down. I’ll stay until Dr. Harris comes back and then I’ll catch some sleep.”

“Ahh, huh…sure you will. I’ll send over some food. You need to eat.”

“I don’t need food.”

“Yeah? Well, I say you do. You’ll eat it too or I’ll come back and feed it to you.”

Ember closed her eyes and tried not to smile. The older man looked like he could follow up on his threat. When she opened her eyes, the gruff man’s demeanor had changed radically. His expression softened before he put a work-worn hand on Desiree’s shoulder and shook her gently. “Dee, honey, come on. Mike is sleeping comfortably. You won’t do him any good if you’re so tired you can’t be here when he needs you.” He looked at Ember. “Ain’t that right, doc?”

Ember nodded wearily. “He’s right, Desiree. Mike’s resting comfortably. He isn’t having any issues. You should get a shower, some sleep, and food. When he wakes up and gets ornery, you’ll thank us for making you take a break.”

The man smiled. “Same goes for you, Doctor Harris. Joseph is resting…now. The restraints will keep him from fighting anyone or hurting himself. You need to crash so you can come back and relieve my boy Adam over there.”

Ember’s sly glance his way ended with a raised eyebrow. “Mr. Marshall, I applaud you. That was very well played. I didn’t see that one coming at all.” Her sarcasm held humor and the man’s expression told her he got it. Ember lifted off the chair, bent down and brushed a kiss on Joseph’s temple and stretched. She yawned as she said, “Alright, come on Desiree, food, shower and sleep.”

Desiree lifted from the chair. She bent over and carefully placed a kiss on Mike’s cheek before she took a long deep breath and turned her chocolate brown eyes towards Frank.

“I know Mike doesn’t want me here. He told me last week he didn’t think we should see each other anymore. Felt he couldn’t give me what he thought I deserved. When they flew him in, I was here to tell mom I took a job working at the Hollister Ranch. I thought maybe….”

She pulled her hand through her long brown hair apparently gathering her thoughts. Desiree cleared her throat and finished her thought. “I thought I would stay until he woke. But in all honesty, I don’t want to hurt like this anymore. I can’t.” She looked over at Ember and gave a tenuous smile. “Thank you for taking care of him. He is a good man, even though he’ll never believe that about himself.” Desiree swiped a finger under her eyes as tears brimmed over and fell down her suntanned cheeks. Yet, she straightened her back and nodded as if confirming her own internal convictions. “Bye, Uncle Frank.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him before she walked out the door.

“It probably isn’t my place to say anything, but I think he does love her. He talked about her after he was shot.”

“Hell, Doc, everyone at the ranch knows Chief loves that soft-spoken little sprite. The big man is going to have to scramble to get her back. Once a Marshall woman has made up her mind and set sail, God and all the forces of creation would have a fit trying to alter their course. Almost serves the idiot right for pushing her away. Almost.” He put his hand on the small Ember’s back and gently urged her out the door. “One thing you will learn about the men from Guardian…they will fight Satan’s demons through the burning mazes of hell simply because it’s the right thing to do. But place them in the vicinity of a good woman? Four out of five times they’ll screw it up.”

“Four out of five times?” Her low chuckle and inquiry got a sly smile in return as they exited the little hospital.

“Yes, Ma’am. Jacob got it right straight out of the chute. Figured out what he wanted and didn’t stop until he got her. Swept my daughter Victoria off her feet and never looked back. Doc, Chief, your man, and the rest? Far as I can tell, all those boys are in serious need of a kick in the ass.”

Ember stopped and looked at him. She gave him a tired wink and a smile. “Mr. Marshall, I believe you may just be the man to do it, too.” Ember saw a flush rise to his cheeks.

“We all have our crosses to bear ma’am, taking care of these boys is mine. And the name is Frank. We don’t stand on ceremony around here.”

*

The haze that pulled at him lessened. He needed to get up. Get out. His mind demanded his body move and yet it wouldn’t. The uncertainty and confusion multiplied when he felt his muscles flex. He was tied, flat on his stomach.
Fuck.

Where am I? What op were you on? Think, damn it, King! What is the last thing you remember? Holy Fuck! Ember! Where the hell was she?
Joseph forced his eyes open and pulled against whatever was keeping him down. The florescent lighting jarred his eyes. He blinked rapidly to focus. Tile floor, white walls, stainless steel tray. A sweating plastic cup with a straw sticking out the top. No instruments of torture, no hypodermic needles. Fresh cold water. He was safe. Probably in South Dakota. But why the fuck couldn’t he move? He tensed again and pulled with all his strength. The bed groaned. Restrained. Joseph pulled against the restraints again in a quick sharp snap of movement.

“I’ll take them off when you tell me who you are and where you are.” Doc’s voice was low and soft, but Joseph recognized it immediately.

Joseph slowly turned his head towards Doc. “I’m the man who is going to kick your fucking ass if you don’t come release me from these restraints.”

“Yeah, threats of aggression aside, tell me who you are and where you are.” Doc gave him a seriously jacked up sneer.

“Joseph King. I was in Wyoming, but I’m assuming I’m now at the Annex on Frank Marshall’s ranch in South Dakota.” He face-planted into the soft pillow. “Where is Ember? Why was I restrained? I have a bitch of a headache.” The pillow rendered his questions in to a muffled, rumbling and snarfing noise.

Doc chuckled and Joseph felt him release the restraints. “Don’t roll over. It will screw up all our work on your back. And I don’t speak pillow. Repeat that?”

Joseph turned his head just far enough to be understood. “For the second time, where is Ember? Why was I restrained? I have a bitch of a headache.”

“Yeah, okay. Joseph, look at me.”

Joseph turned his eyes towards him. Doc used American Sign Language.

I have lingering issues with my speech. This is an easier way for me to communicate
.

When Joseph nodded his understanding, Doc continued.

The headache is probably because of the fever that caused your delirium. The delirium is the reason you are in restraints. Your woman knocked your ass out until we could pump enough meds into you to lower your temperature. Frank convinced Dr. Harris to stand down. She hasn’t slept much in the seventy-two hours we’ve been back.

“Longer than that. She needs to sleep.” Joseph pulled his arms under his body when Doc released him. “How’s Chief?”

Doc sat back down and shrugged. “SNAFU.”

“Situation-normal-all-fucked-up. Ain’t that the perfect metaphor for our lives?”

“That or FUBAR.”

“Fucked-up-beyond-all-repair? Yeah, that one would work too.” Joseph adjusted his position on the pillow cradling his head with his arms. God that felt so much better than the strapped down position he’d been in.

Doc grinned and nodded. “He’ll be okay. Your lady’s a...good doctor.”

Joseph closed his eyes. The pain Doc’s statement caused was immediate. “She’s not mine. Used to be a long time ago. Now I can’t risk contaminating her life with the death and destruction that surrounds me.”

Doc gave a short whistle. Joseph opened his eyes. Doc signed,
I’ve read the reports. About what happened over there? I don’t remember. Tell me what you saw
.