Sniper Fire (Love in the Crosshairs) (10 page)

She started to obey, wanting more than anything to be beside him right then. Another shot rang out. Farrah jerked back to her scant cover. She didn’t care if the sniper was aiming at her or not, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t cross that few feet of bare ground. Stray bullets killed just as sure as well aimed ones.

“Farrah?”

She glanced over at Kyle again. Shock took her breath. The idiot had cut himself free of the stretcher and was crawling toward her, half-naked, a large knife in one hand. The light skin of his back stood out like a beacon in the night, a perfect target.

“What are you doing? Get back!” She waved him away frantically. “Kyle, stop, you have to stay still.” If the sniper didn’t get him, dragging his injured leg across the ground might. Her stiches would never hold up to the stress. Instead of listening to her, he seemed to crawl faster, reaching her in seconds.

“Don’t worry,” he said, panting hard as he pulled himself up beside her, “I’m here. I’m here. Are you hit?”

“No, I’m okay.” But he wasn’t. She could feel the heat coming off him in waves.

He shifted with a grunt, throwing his good leg over hers and covering her body with his. He placed his mouth near her ear. “Ty and Rashid are flanking the sniper. They’ll take him out soon. Just stay down. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Part of Farrah wanted to stay huddled under his big warm body forever. Just the weight of him made her feel safe, protected. His big bare chest and thickly muscled arms pressed tightly against her, shielding her. The other half of her felt like a coward. She was his doctor. She should be the one protecting her patient. She tried to wiggle out from under him.

“Stay still, Farrah. Please.”

The pain in his voice froze her. “Kyle?” His body shuddered and suddenly went lax. “Kyle!” She wiggled harder, trying to get free of his limp weight. She stopped struggling when she heard someone else drop down beside them. Kyle’s body was rolled off her.

“Damn, Fagan. You always know how to liven up a party,” Dell said. “Check his leg, doc, but stay down. Ty took out one sniper, but he’s after another. Don’t want your pretty little brains splattered all over creation, now, do we.”

“No, definitely not,” Farrah agreed breathlessly. She pushed her hair back from her face. The heavy mass had come loose from the pony tail she usually kept it in, the long strands getting in the way as she bent over Kyle. She couldn’t see much in the darkness, but felt the bandage wrapped around Kyle’s leg.
Damp, but not soaked.
The skin above the bandage was warm, but not distended. No sign of blood pooling underneath.

“I think he’s okay.” Something small and fast zipped through the curtain of her hair, tugging several strands loose.

“Get down!” Dell shoved her to the side and followed her down, landing partly on top of her. His body jerked and jerked again as gunfire suddenly seemed to surround them. When the firing ceased, Dell rolled off her slowly. Worry over Kyle had her pushing past him. Not until she was sure Kyle hadn’t been hit did she turn back to the soldier who had protected her.

“Sorry, Doc,” Dell said hoarsely, blood staining his lips. “I think my wandering days are over.”

Hands shaking like crazy, Farrah felt his body, quickly finding the bloody holes in his side. She shifted the bag of supplies she carried and pulled out a wad of gauze pads. She ripped his clothes where she could, and took a pair of scissors to them when she couldn’t. Anything to get the pads pressed over the wounds. She knew controlling the bleeding was only a stop-gap measure at best. She could already hear the rattle in his chest that told her a lung was punctured. He needed surgery, now! Anything less was insufficient and useless in the long run.

Another body skid to a halt beside her, kicking up dust. Farrah whipped around, relief flooding her when she saw it was Joshua. His question and her answer came on top of each other.

“Are you okay?”

“He needs a surgeon.”

Joshua glanced past her at Dell.

‘Shit,” he said. He tapped the com in his ear. “Eagle, Raptor, find that damn sniper and take him out now! Peregrine’s down. Falcon, Brick, break off and get your asses over here. I want Ghost on that chopper two seconds after it lands!” He grabbed her arm. “Can you run?”

“Yes.”

“Then follow me and stay low.”

“But Kyle—”

“We got him,” Gage said. He and Brick dropped the stretcher beside Kyle. “Stupid, Fagan. Heroic, but stupid.” He shot a quick glance at Dell. “Whole damn unit’s full of heroes today.”

“Where’s Waterhouse?” Joshua asked. “How bad was he hit?”

“Stitch has him,” Gage said. “It’s a through and through in the arm. He’ll be okay.”

Joshua nodded once. Reaching down, he pulled Dell up and over his left shoulder. “Stay with me,” he ordered her again. Then he ran.

Farrah swallowed hard and forced herself to follow. She didn’t know how Joshua could move so fast carrying another man. She barely managed to keep a step behind him, staying low like he’d told her, trying to run and look over her shoulder at the same time. Then Gage and Brick were beside them. She could tell Kyle was conscious again from the set grimace of pain on his face. No help for it now.

Suddenly the downdraft from the helicopter was there, kicking up the sand around them. Farrah ducked her head and blinked rapidly as her hair whipped around her face. She saw the men flinch and knew another bullet must have hit close, though she couldn’t hear it. She couldn’t hear anything over the noise of the rotors spinning madly overhead as the helicopter set down. Joshua dumped Dell inside first, then reached for her as Gage and Brick lifted Kyle inside. She tried to back away.

“No. I have to get back to the clinic.”

“Farrah, get in the damn copter!”

“The clinic—”

“You can’t go back there. “He grabbed her and lifted her inside. “Besides, we need you.”

He was right, she thought, crawling over to Dell. Blood from his multiple wounds already soaked the pads she’d slapped in place. She was trying to assess the injuries to see which one needed her attention first when Joshua pulled at her arm.

“Don’t,” she said urgently, “I have to stop the bleeding. Tell the other doctor I need him back here.”

“There is no other doctor. He didn’t make it aboard.” The anger in his voice was enough to make her flinch. “You need to help Kyle, Farrah. I’ll see to Dell.”

“Kyle? What—” She spun around, gasping when she saw Gage had a hand shoved down onto Kyle’s leg while Kyle was swearing in a constant stream. She hadn’t heard him over the noise.

“Something came loose,” Gage shouted at her. “You have to fix it!”

Fear shot her heart into her throat. Where was the other doctor? There was supposed to be another doctor—one with a lot more experience than she had—one with the skill to save both Kyle and Dell. She watched in horror as the white bandage beneath Gage’s hand turned a solid red.

“Farrah!” Joshua gave her a little shake. “Get your ass in gear! You can fall to pieces later! We need you. Kyle needs you!”

His harsh words, shouted over the heavy whine of the helicopter, finally penetrated Farrah’s panic. She looked from one patient to the other. Who needed her more? How did she choose between them? If only she was one more person.

“Kyle first,” Joshua said decisively, suddenly seeming very calm as the helicopter rose into the air. “You and Gage stabilize Kyle. I’ll tape Dell up and stop the bleeding till you’re done.” Farrah met his gaze and let his unyielding calm center her. He was always like that in a crisis, she recalled. Always the cool one, the steady one. A solid rock in the midst of chaos. She leaned on that rock now by turning away from Dell and concentrating on Kyle. She began shouting her own orders. More light, betadine, plasma, sutures. The demands rolled off her tongue without thought.

Operating in the helicopter was not something she ever wanted to do again. Each time the big machine dropped dramatically as the wind got the best of the pilot, Farrah halted, afraid she’d nick something vital. Luckily, only a couple of stitches had come loose on the artery itself in a place that was easily repaired. She spent an hour replacing some of the inside stitching as well and most of the outside, before getting the bleeding under control. Twice she called over her shoulder to Joshua, wanting an update on Dell. Both times, he assured her the bleeding was slowing. By the time she wrapped the last bandage on Kyle’s leg, the helicopter was dropping to land with enough speed to add to the nausea in her stomach. She sat back on her heels and shoved her hair away from her face with the backs of her bloody hands. “He’ll do for now,” she said to Gage. “Let’s check Dell.”

She turned around with a sigh and froze. Not simply because the look on Joshua’s face was that of a man far beyond grief, but because of the tears tracking in a steady stream down his face. She’d never seen him cry before. Not once. One glance at Dell told her why. She lunged for the man Joshua held in his arms. He didn’t try to stop her or hold her back. He just sat there as she confirmed her fear, the grief coming off him so palpable, she was surprised she hadn’t noticed it before.

“Why didn’t you say something?” she shouted. She balled a fist, wanting to hit him, but pounded her thigh instead. “Gage could have worked on him. We might have saved him.” Tears choked her.

Joshua’s voice was like a dead weight. “No. He was hurt too bad.” He lifted a hand covered in dark blood that told her what it must have told him. “He was gone before you had Kyle’s leg reopened,” he confirmed. “You couldn’t have saved him, Farrah. It was my decision to keep you working on Kyle. Mine. I take full responsibility.”

Farrah scrubbed away tears with the back of her hand. “Why wasn’t there a doctor on board? You said there would be another doctor.”

His arms tightened around the dead soldier. “That’s a very good question. One I intend to take up with Command as soon as we get settled. This mission has been a clusterfuck from beginning to end, and I’m not apologizing for the language this time.”

For once, she didn’t expect him to. She felt like cussing herself.

The helicopter touched down. Men rushed up to the door with stretchers. She noticed Kyle’s eyes were open and scooted over to him. “Hey, you’re going to be okay.”

His hand fumbled for hers and she squeezed it tight. “Knew that,” he said slowly, his words slurring a bit. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” she said, the words coming automatically. As soon as they were out she froze, but quickly forced herself to relax. Of course, she cared for him; he was one of her best friends. “I’ll check on you later.”

She leaned over to kiss his forehead before releasing him so he could be moved. Soon Kyle and Dell both were being carried to a concrete building. Farrah crawled stiffly out of the helicopter and looked around. Not surprisingly, they were in some kind of military facility.

“You said Kyle would do for now,” Joshua said, weariness and grief making his voice gruff. “Will he keep the leg?”

Farrah sighed. “I don’t know. He’s strong, but there’s a lot of damage. I…I just don’t know.” Tears flooded her eyes again. Joshua drew her close and she collapsed against him. She felt wrung out, the flood of adrenaline and emotion she’d been riding as dried up as a desert well. There was nothing left to keep her going, not even hope. She’d done all she could to keep Kyle alive.

Whether it would be enough, whether he’d walk again on his own two feet, only time would tell.

Whether he would forgive her if he lost his leg?

Well, only time would tell that, too.

Chapter Six

Clear Springs, North Carolina: Eight months later.

“Did you say he was shot in the leg?” A shiver went through Farrah as she glanced up from washing her hands and arms. Her gaze swept over the man reflected in the mirror mounted over the sink, pausing on the sling cradling his left arm. Tidying up a through-and-through bullet wound wasn’t something she did every day in quiet little Clear Springs. Farrah liked it that way. Gunshot wounds still had a tendency to hit her harder than any other injury, dredging up too many bad memories. Having just finished sewing up the holes in the man’s arm, she wasn’t in a hurry to do more. Still, as a doctor, she couldn’t deny that even gunshot wounds came with the territory.

Standing behind her in the washroom’s doorway, Sheriff Dan Penwell nodded. “Yep, I definitely winged him right after he got me. Not sure how bad.” He cocked his head as if studying her. “You going to be able to patch him up when we catch him?”

Stifling a huff, Farrah grabbed a hand towel off a shelf. Everyone in Clear Springs seemed to know about the disastrous ending to her stint in Cairo. She squared her shoulders as she turned around to face the sheriff. At forty-something, he was still a handsome man, she thought absently. The few lines at the corners of his eyes and the gray hairs sprinkled at his temples made him look distinguished instead of old.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she said, trying to keep her irritation from showing. “I may not do surgery on a regular basis, but I did okay on your arm, didn’t I?”

He touched the sling carefully. “You know that’s not what I mean. Russell Craddoc’s not like one of our local bad boys, Farrah. He’s the real deal, a cold-blooded killer without a lick of conscience. Just being in the same room with him made the hairs on my neck stand on end, and I’ve been doing this job for almost twenty years. I’d rather ship him over to Asheville for treatment when we catch him, but I may not have that option.”

Farrah tried not to grind her teeth. She’d been practicing medicine in her home town of Clear Springs for almost seven months now, and people still had a tendency to doubt her skills. Well, maybe not so much her skills as her fortitude. Everyone knew she abhorred violence of any kind. Becoming a doctor, someone trained to deal with the results of violence in its varied forms, seemed one of the last professions she’d choose. Only time would convince the local skeptics that she could handle whatever her career threw at her.

“I’ll be available, Sheriff” she said, letting him hear the determination in her voice. “Just call me. You have my cell number.”