Nightshade (Discarded Heroes) (49 page)

“Please,” the doctor said. “Let’s sit.”

Acquiescing, Sydney eased into the seat, gripping the arm tightly. Ghost One sat next to her, a silent sign that she wasn’t alone. The others clustered nearby.

“Your husband is stable but serious.”

A breath whooshed out of her. Ghost One nodded.

“I believe he’s stable enough to be ambulatory. Since that C-130 hasn’t left, I’d like to get him on that and deliver him to Okinawa, where they’re better suited to continue treating his injuries.”

“What’s the damage?” Midas asked.

“Three bullets across the chest. One narrowly missed the carotid. But one splintered off his rib and punctured his lung. We’ve repaired the tear, but I’d feel better if he were checked at a facility equipped to handle combat injuries.”

“Agreed,” Midas said, then peeked at Sydney. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to intrude.”

She smiled. “No, it’s okay. You’re right.” She returned her attention to the doctor. “We do agree, Doctor. Can I go with him?”

“Of course.” He stood. “They’re prepping him for transport now. I need to call it in and make the arrangements.”

As the doctor started away, the man from the C-130 who’d talked with Jon Harris appeared. He greeted the doctor, and together they disappeared.

Relief dripped like a nice oil massage over her shoulders and back. Max made it.
He’s going to live
.

“Told you he was too thick-headed to bail.”

Sydney smiled, grateful when the large guy wrapped an arm around her shoulder, offering comfort. “I’ll never forget seeing him face-down in that sand.”

He gave her a hug. “You and me both.”

Doors flapped back and a gurney emerged. Sydney bolted to her feet, watching. Buried amid crisp white sheets, boards, straps, and tubes, Max was wheeled into the open. She hurried to his side and bit back the tears at his pale face. “Oh, Max,” she whispered. She kissed his cheek, grateful for the warmth she found there.

She wanted his eyes to flutter open, to show her he really was alive. But with the heavy sedation for surgery, she wouldn’t see those riveting eyes for a while. The medical staff gave her a nod then pushed him out onto the tarmac. An ear-piercing thrum from the engines screeched through the air as they ran the gurney up the steel grate.

Sydney walked behind the team, noting that Lane kept his distance. Beside her, she felt Ghost One pause and step back. She caught his hand. “You’re coming with me, right?”

He hesitated then nodded. “Of course.”

But when she looked around, the others were gone. Like a flash of lightning. Enough to crack the night but be untraceable afterward. Yeah. That’s the way it should be. She’d bury this story. Thankfully, the photos were incinerated in the explosion. “You should know, there were photos of you, of the team. I don’t know where they came from. My copies were destroyed, but the film is out there somewhere.”

Ghost One’s features darkened. “Thanks. I’ll pass the word along.”

Sydney glanced around. “Where are the others?”

Again he hesitated. “They don’t exist, so it’d be funny if they all showed up at another military hospital.” He urged her into the plane. “They’ll find their way home. It’s what we do. All of us. Even Max. We find our way home.”

In his own gentle way, he made sure she understood she had a secret to keep. She placed a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry, Ghost One. I understand.”

“Thought you might.” Slow and small, his smile warmed her. “And for a nosey reporter, I’m surprised you don’t know my name’s Colton Neeley.”

“My husband has a friend by that name.” She watched the techs secure Max’s gurney to the left side as Colton guided her to the right, where she lowered herself onto the red web seating. Not exactly comfortable, but she didn’t care. “I won’t be tracking down any more stories. All I want to do is go home, buy a house, have our baby, and fall in love with my husband all over again.”

Hollow laughter trickled into his awareness. Max pried his eyes open—and white light shot into his vision. He grunted and turned away.

A soft gasp. “Max? Max, can you hear me?”

Sydney’s voice lured him from the greedy claws of sleep. “Where—?” Something stuck in his throat, severing his question.

“Shh, you have a tube in your throat. Colton, get the nurse,” Sydney said. Then he felt her breath against his cheek. “I’m so glad you’re back, Max.” Warmth pressed against his forehead. A kiss. A guy could get used to this. Except for the pain that made him feel like he’d been beaten to a pulp.

He battled to see her face, to take in the fact she was really here, that he had survived that cold-blooded attack intent on wiping out the team. Muffled shouts had pulled him around at the last second on that beach, just as the gunmen had emerged. If he hadn’t turned, everyone would’ve been killed.

“This is going to hurt, Mr. Jacobs. Just hold on.”

Max willed himself to relax; it wasn’t the first time he’d had a feeding tube. He gagged once as it came out, leaving his throat raw and sore. The nurse handed him a lidded drink with a straw. “Sip slowly.” He squeezed his eyes shut then pushed them open.

When he tried to elevate his head, pain tore through his shoulder. He stiffened and dropped back, dots sprinkling his vision.

“Yeah, might wanna take it easy there. Seems you tried to bring home a few souvenirs.”

Cowboy. The man’s voice made Max smile. Shouldn’t be surprised that of all the team members sent to check on him and report back to Lambert, it’d be Cowboy. The guy probably volunteered. Closest thing to a friend.

“What’s a vacation without souvenirs?” Max croaked out, wishing he hadn’t.

The burly guy bent over the bed and gripped Max’s hand tightly. “All right, buddy. I’m going to jet. You get better. We aren’t a team without you.”

Once Cowboy was gone, Max rolled his gaze to Sydney. Daylight streaming through the side window made her look like an angel. Her hair hung loose past her shoulders, thick and dark. Her beautiful eyes sparkled.

“Hey, handsome.” She smiled, a tear spilling over her lid.

With the IV hand, he waved her closer. “No tears.” He touched her face. “I meant what I said.” His throat seared. He winced.

“Shh, we can talk later. Just get better. Please.”

“A little pain isn’t going to stop—” His words caught on the dry, stinging portions of his throat. He forced a swallow that stung all the way down. “Whatever it takes, Syd. I don’t want to lose you again.”

She held his hand against her face. “You won’t, Max. We’re in this together.”

Another thing leaped to his mind with urgency. She’d been there for one reason—to find Nightshade. “The team—you can’t say anything.” He tried to show his sincerity, but heaviness and weakness quickly overtook him, pulling his arms down and eyes closed. He pushed them back open. “No reporting …”

Through her tears, she bent toward him. “I found what I was looking for.” She kissed him with a small laugh. “And I’m not sharing him with the world.”