Under Fire (26 page)

It was dark and it hurt to breathe.

No, it wasn’t dark, her eyes were closed. Olivia tried to open them and couldn’t. Some bastard had glued them shut. She took a deep breath.
Oh!
That hurt like hell. She tried to talk and found her lips were stuck together outside her very dry mouth. She wanted to raise her hand. Her nose itched. But she couldn’t make the hand move. Her body felt light and heavy at the same time. Quiet voices someplace near grew louder.

“Thank you, God,” Defoe’s voice said.

She got it. This was a dream. Defoe was in it. She didn’t want him in her dream. She wanted Rico in it. “Rico.”

Defoe called her nurse. She cracked one eye open. This wasn’t a dream. Defoe was there, his hands on her shoulders, pushing. She could smell beer on his breath. He was drunk and in her bedroom. She tried to sit up and the effort sent an explosion of pain through her whole body.
Fuck.
She’d deal with Defoe another time.

She hurt everywhere and wanted to sleep. Something nagged her, wouldn’t let her rest. What was it?

Rico.
He was hurt. He needed her help. This was not the time to sleep.

“Rico?”

Olivia poured all her energy into forcing her eyes open. She managed to open one the barest of slits. A uniform filled her line of vision. Stars on the collar, left side of the shirt filled with commendations, ribbons and badges. An admiral. She closed her eye again.

This was another dream, had to be. She opened the eye again.
Her mother was here
. Dream. Definitely.

Shit.
The admiral,
her mother,
leaned over her. What was her mother doing in her bedroom? She twisted her head away. “Go away.” She was sure she yelled. All she heard was a tiny whisper.

There were voices and she concentrated on understanding what they were saying. Defoe. Her mother, and now Crenshaw and Turner were in her room. Enough of this shit. Forcing her eyes open took determination. The voices stopped and the first person that came into sight was Mouse, his face almost as red as his hair. She blinked and some of the smoky haze in the room cleared. Mouse looked like he was crying.
What the hell?
She adjusted her body, attempting to sit. The pain and hands prevented her.

Summoning all her strength, she growled, “Get off me.” The pinging sound in the room escalated, blaring like a smoke alarm.

“That’s enough. I want you goons all out of here.”

Olivia saw a nice looking, dark-haired woman in a white coat appear from between Crenshaw and Turner. The white coat came to her side and fussed with some wires there. The alarm returned to the measured pinging.

“Hi, I’m Pam Cannon, your doctor.”

It all came back in a tidal wave of vivid Technicolor memory. She was in the hospital and this was no dream.

“I’m her mother.”

“I said everybody out. No exceptions.” The doctor put her hands on the admiral, turned her and gave her a push in the direction of the door. When all were gone the woman returned her attention to the wires and tubes and adjusted one of the IVs.

“We won’t need most of these accessories now that you’re awake.” She jammed her hands in the pockets of her white coat. “How ’bout you tell me how you feel.”

“Stiff. Hurt everyplace. Hard to move. Tired. Ringing in my ears. Raise the head of this bed and I’ll feel a lot better.” The mechanics of the bed ground and gasped her to a more comfortable position. She looked at the doctor. “Now, how ’bout you tell me everything that’s wrong with me.”

Doctor Cannon tucked a rogue strand of long brown hair behind an ear and propped a hip on the bed. “Sure. To begin with, you took quite a beating, which is why you’re stiff and hurting. You took two bullets. One hit an artery. The other not so bad. You lost a lot of blood.” She patted Olivia’s arm condescendingly. “But you’re strong and healthy. A few days’ rest and you’ll feel much better.”

“Define a few days.” Olivia attempted to arrange her pillow. “The way this hurts it feels like it will be a lot longer.”

“Sorry about that. I ordered the pain meds reduced so I could check you over.” Cannon removed a syringe from her pocket and went for the IV.

“Take it easy on that. I don’t want to be out of it.”

Cannon inserted the needle into her IV and pressed the plunger. “Half. We’ll see how that does you. I’ll leave orders for more if you need it.” She cocked her head in the direction of the door. “I’m not going to let that gang back in here for now. You need rest and I—”

Olivia knew “that gang” would sneak back in at the first opportunity. “What do you know about the others who were injured?”

“Sorry.” She shook her head. “There is a man who asked to see you as soon as possible.” She retrieved a card from her coat pocket and handed it over. “A Mr. Palmer. He asked me to say he wants to talk about Rico.”

Olivia pushed back every atom of pain, chased the fog from her mind and climbed into the pilot’s seat.

“I want to see the admiral. Can cell calls be made from this room? Am I on a secured floor?”

“Eh, yes, you can make calls from here and you are on a secured floor.” She turned her head to the door. “Which makes me wonder how all those men—”

“I need to see the admiral, now!”

“Have you spoken to Sammy?” Olivia asked the admiral.

“Yes. He’s very upset.”

Olivia averted her eyes from her mother’s. She knew Sammy would be. He’d warned her she was asking for trouble looking for Danny’s killer and had begged her to stop.

“He asked me to tell you he is proud and will forever be scared of his kick-ass little sister.”

Olivia couldn’t suppress a smile.

“When did Palmer say he would be here?”

“I’m here.” An unimposing short man dressed in khakis and polo shirt stepped in and closed the door. He came to the bedside and shot a disapproving look at Admiral Hendrickson. “I asked for a private meeting, Commander.”

“The admiral is assisting me and she stays.”

“Then I’ll get right to the point. May I?” He asked for permission to put his briefcase on the bed at her feet, and she nodded. “The man you know as Rico Cortes is gravely wounded and has asked me to speak to you for him.”

“I want to know his real name.”

“I can’t.”

“You wouldn’t be here unless he’d asked you, and you know I’m no security risk. Now, tell me his name.”

“All right,” he sighed. “Declan O’Conner.”

Declan. Declan with the green eyes O’Conner. “Go on,” she urged.

“O’Conner is in serious condition. The doctors say he will be well enough tomorrow to be moved to an undisclosed location to recover. The agency will keep him in a safe place until we are sure there is no threat of retaliation from the cartel.”

“What about the threat to my daughter?”

Palmer looked from one woman to another. “Daughter?”

“Yes, daughter. What about her safety? She’s the one who killed Silva. She needs to be protected from what’s left of his organization.”

“The fact she’s the one who killed Silva is known to less than a handful of people. We prefer to keep it that way. As far as anyone knows, the commander was abducted by the cartel and rescued by several agencies. Her involvement has not been, nor will be, written anyplace. That is the best way to protect her.

“O’Conner asked I tell you he will be in protective custody for several months. He will not be able to communicate with you in any way.” Palmer opened the briefcase and withdrew several papers. “He turned over the contents of his apartment and all monies to you.”

“Where is he?” Olivia demanded.

“I can’t tell you.”

“He’s here isn’t he?”

From the look on the man’s face she knew instantly Rico—
Declan
—was in this very hospital. “The fuck you can’t! I want to see him.”

“Not possible. I need you to—”

“Mr. Palmer.” Her tone caused him to give her his full attention. “You are going to take me to Declan O’Conner.”

“Or?” he said, a little too cocky.

“Or—” the admiral’s tone made Olivia’s sound like a school girl’s, “—I’ll see to it that your term with your agency is cut extremely short. I’ve spent a lot of time in Washington making friends. Don’t doubt for one second I can’t or won’t do it.”

Palmer shook his head and returned the documents to his briefcase. “I don’t know which of you is harder to deal with. O’Conner is in and out of consciousness and he threatened to kill me, when he can get out of the bed, if I didn’t bring you to see him. He refuses to take drugs for the pain until he sees you.” He snapped the briefcase shut. “Since you feel the same way, I’d be foolish to risk my life.” A smile crept across his face. “We can do this paperwork later. How long before you can be ready to go to his room?”

Olivia thought she could like this man. He’d been protecting Rico—
Declan
—and testing her to see if she felt the same way.

“Give us twenty minutes,” the admiral said, heading for the door. “I’ll find something for her to wear.”

“You have to be prepared.” Palmer’s tone turned somber, his expression loaded with concern. “He looks bad. Worse than it is, if that’s possible.”

“Tell me.”

“The leg and side wound will leave scars but he’ll recover. A bullet entered here—” he touched a place under his arm, “—and bounced around, did a lot of internal damage. They opened him up and played around inside him most of yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” She’d been out of it a whole day.

“Yes. He’s hooked up to a lot of machinery.” He glanced at the wires she had. “The docs say he is doing better than hoped. And there is one more thing.”

A shiver of fear snaked through her. “What?”

“O’Conner was deep undercover. He altered his appearance because, well…” The man rubbed his forehead. “To begin with, he’s a blond. He dyes his hair. And his eyes…His eyes are a most distinctive green. They stand out. He covers them with contacts.”

She sighed deeply. The python of fear constricting her chest let go.

“I know.”

“You know? Now that’s one for the books.” Palmer shook his head. “O’Conner trusted somebody.”

Admiral Hendrickson burst through the door followed by a nurse pushing a wheelchair. “Out.” She motioned to Palmer. She held up scrubs, smiling. “Something for you to change into.”

Palmer nodded to an armed guard standing at the hallway entrance and pushed Olivia toward another man waiting halfway down the hall. When they reached the door, the man swung open the door, holding it so Palmer could wheel her in. Yet another guard stood inside. Palmer asked him to leave and took her to Declan’s side.

Her heart crashed. Palmer was right, he looked horrible. Tubes and wires ran from under the sheets to a half dozen beeping machines. A clear plastic mask covered his nose and mouth. His leg was elevated, supported with straps, and heavily bandaged. His tan skin tinged gray. Wires and leads were attached to his head and shoulders. Palmer retreated a respectable distance.

She let her fingers close over Declan’s hand, stunned by how cold it felt. She pushed up and stood.

“Rico.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. She inhaled and even through the dense antiseptic hospital smell caught his familiar scent. “Declan?” she whispered again, and she felt his hand move under hers. “Declan, it’s Olivia.”

His eyelids quivered and finally cracked open. And those incredible green eyes looked at her. He freed his hand from hers and slid the mask away, doing his best to smile. She pressed her cheek against his in complete relief.

“You okay?” His voice was hardly more than a croak.

She lifted her face and nodded. “Now I am. You?”

“They’re flying me out of here tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“Wait for me.”

Was it a question or an order? She couldn’t tell.

“Not waiting. I’m going with you,” she whispered into his ear to prevent Palmer from hearing. “Don’t worry. I’m in charge now. You sleep and get better.”

During the hour Olivia was allowed to stay Declan slipped in an out of consciousness. She wanted to crawl into the bed and take his pain away. Pain he was enduring because of her. She settled for sitting quietly and resting her head on his arm while he slept. When he was awake, she stroked the blond stubble on his chin and squeezed his hand.

“Ma’am, I’ve never asked you for anything. He saved my life. I wouldn’t be here now if it wasn’t for what he did. Please.”

Admiral Hendrickson rose and kissed her forehead. “I’ve waited a long time to do something for you, baby girl. I’ll call Sammy and leave a message about what you want. Don’t worry about any of the rest. Consider it done.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Olivia. When this is all straightened out do you think you can call me something besides ma’am or Admiral?”

Olivia nodded and her mother strode quickly from the room. Seconds later Mouse and her crew slipped inside, followed by Hunter on crutches. He walked straight to her side and gave her the once over.

“Came to thank you.” He extended his hand to shake.

Her right arm was immobilized so she slipped her left hand into his. “I think I owe you thanks also.”

“Yeah.” His big hand closed around hers.

“Hunter. If ever I am in that kind of trouble again I want you to rescue me. You and your men are the greatest.”

He leaned and she thought for a moment he was going to lay a kiss on her.

“Commander, if it’s all the same to you, you get in that kind of trouble again, call the Marines. Once flying with you was enough. And, we aren’t all that great. It’s just that everybody else sucks.” He winked and without another word turned and hobbled away.

Crenshaw, Defoe, Turner and Mouse crowded around the bed.

“How do you feel, Miss Olivia?” Mouse touched her foot, looking concerned.

“Do you need anything?” Defoe blurted.

“I’m doing much better. I do need something, Bill. I need help from each of you.” They took a step closer.

“What do you want us to do?” Defoe asked.

She told them she was resigning from the Coast Guard and leaving with Declan. She gave them a minute to get over that shock and hit them with the next announcement.

“At my request, my mother is filing for guardianship of Mouse.” Mouse took a big step back. “This is where you come in, Bill. Will you and Jenny take him in until I get back? He needs a man’s hand. I’ll pay for everything. He’s been hanging with you a couple of days, you know he’s okay.” She talked fast to prevent Defoe from saying no. “You two—” she looked at Crenshaw and Turner, “—are closer to his age. You take him on weekends, make sure he stays out of trouble. When I get back, I’ll take over.”

No one spoke and she felt the hesitation.

“Will you do this for me?”

“What about him?” Defoe turned to look at Mouse. “This okay with you?”

He didn’t answer.

“I’m running out of time here. For crap’s sake somebody answer me.” She turned to Mouse. “You agree?” He nodded. “No trouble. You get straight As and you do what these guys say.” He nodded again.

She looked at each of her crew. “You in or not?”

“In,” they all agreed.

“One more thing. No more Mouse, from now on, we call you Scott.” The boy nodded.

“The four of you shake,” she ordered and they did.

Olivia waited uncomfortably in the wheelchair. Admiral Hendrickson stood silently beside her, looking intently at the blue MedEvac helicopter on the hospital helipad.

Dressed in jeans and a crisp white shirt, her mother stood, legs slightly separated, in the military at ease stance. Olivia knew her to be in her fifties but she could easily pass for ten to fifteen years younger.

Last night they’d talked and it had been rough. Olivia had laid into the admiral, holding nothing back. Recalling every hurt and blaming her for everything, including Danny’s death. The admiral sat silently through it all. When the tirade was finished, she apologized for everything—except Danny’s death.

Quietly she’d told Olivia that she and Danny had been talking in the months before he died. Working on fixing their relationship. The admiral asked for the opportunity to do the same with her.

Olivia wasn’t sure where this was going, but it was a start. Something else she could do for Danny. No. She looked at the woman beside her. Something she would do for herself.

“Nice to see the DEA thinks enough about him to get the best air ambulance service in the country,” her mother said. The corner of her mouth quirked in a tiny smile.

“Yes, it is good to know,” Olivia said, watching the chopper’s pilot, a woman, exit the bird. Her gaze went to the company logo painted on the helicopter. Large, white angel wings. The pilot stood by the wings in such a way it appeared they were sprouting from her. A most deliberate positioning to enhance the company name, Guardian Angel.

“You’re sure about this?”

“I’m sure about very little.”

The admiral turned quickly, swung the wheelchair around and crouched in front.

“You aren’t sure?”

The reality was, she wasn’t sure about anything. Her life would no longer be schedules, reports, orders and commands. She didn’t know what was going to happen tomorrow, in six months or a year. She only knew this felt right. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sure.”

“I’m sorry I was never there to help you, baby.”

“Ma’am, please. Let’s not go over this again.”

Her mother nodded. “You have my SIM card?”

Olivia smiled and patted her left breast, where she’d tucked the admiral’s SIM card inside her bra. They were being taken to an undisclosed destination. She wanted her brother and mother to know where she was. It worked once, it should work again.

Behind them the elevator doors opened. The gurney carrying Declan was surrounded by the two doctors, three nurses and his guard.

The flight doctor, a no-nonsense looking woman in a flight suit, and the doctor who had treated him came to Olivia and she stood to greet them.

“He’s lightly sedated. Once we get in the chopper I’ll give him morphine so he’ll be comfortable,” the flight doc said. “By the time we get to the Gulfstream it will wear off. The jet’s medical crew will assess what he needs after that.” She referred to the air ambulance taking them to where Declan would convalesce.

Olivia nodded. Declan had given her power of attorney and she would make all medical decisions.

“I’ve gone over the patient’s history with your flight physician and nurse. They know their stuff. I’m confident he’ll do well during the flight,” the hospital’s doctor added.

They know their stuff all right
. Olivia thoroughly checked and hired the crew herself. The flight doctor was a former army physician who served in first line treatment hospitals in Afghanistan and Iraq. The two flight nurses had more trauma experience than most big city ER doctors. The pilot was a Marine who by all accounts was phenomenal. The copilot had served with her in the Coast Guard.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Commander Carver.” As they shook, Olivia thought to correct the doctor. She wasn’t Commander Carver anymore. Her exit papers from the Coast Guard were signed and delivered that very morning.

She went to Declan’s side, bent and kissed his cheek. His eyelids jerked as he tried to force them open. She placed her lips close to his ear. “I’m here. Rest.”

The glass doors slid open and the group moved to the waiting helicopter. When they were close, the pilot snapped to attention, gave a sharp salute and climbed inside the bird. Olivia watched the nurses switch his wires to the helicopter’s equipment. When the flight doctor was satisfied all was good she gave a thumbs up.

Olivia turned to her mother to say thank you, and was surprised with a long hug. “Take care, baby. See you soon.” There were tears in her eyes. “I love you, baby girl.” She did an about face and retreated inside.

“I love you too…Mama,” Olivia called out, hoping the words weren’t lost in the chopper’s engine noise.

Inside, she strapped into the comfortable leather seat and settled back. The familiar whine of the helicopter’s turbo was comforting.

Her pilot lifted off smoothly and increased air speed with such finesse the only tell was the pitch of the engines.

She rested her hand over Declan’s fingers, tightening ever so slightly and he returned the pressure. He would be okay, she knew it. His eyes opened. She still had not become accustomed to those green eyes. He raised his free hand to the mask covering his nose and mouth. Through the plastic mask she watched his lips form the word
talk.

She leaned and spoke in his ear. “No. Too noisy. You rest. There’ll be plenty of time to talk later.”

He blinked his eyes twice—their code for yes—and closed his lids. Yes, when they reached their destination there would be plenty of time to talk and rediscover each other. She had so much to tell him. First would be the whole truth about her mother. Then the most difficult thing to explain would come. She stroked his cheek. Looking up, she caught one of the nurses watching. They exchanged smiles.

How would Declan take the fact she was a very wealthy woman? Between oil rich Texas land, inherited from their uncle and Danny’s insurance and stocks, she and Sammy together were worth well over twenty million. They owned and operated the Guardian Angel Medical Flight Charters they were aboard at that moment. Eight helicopters and four Gulfstreams jammed with high tech medical equipment, operated by the very best medical personnel, could be on a mission anywhere in the world in a matter of hours. Declan squeezed her hand again. Was he reading her thoughts?

“He’s strong.” The nurse’s voice over her head set shook her from her thoughts. “In no time you’ll get control of your life. In a year he’ll be back to normal. You’ll never know he was hurt.”

In a year. She sighed and looked out the window at the shimmering Atlantic. After what they’d been through, what would normal be for them? “I’m pushing morphine,” the nurse said. “If you want to say anything do it now. He’ll be out until we get to the jet.”

Olivia pressed her lips to his ear. “I love you, Declan.” She kissed his check and watched his lips form “I love you.”