Rogue Protector, page 22
I hand Arturo my phone. “The unlock code is 422321. Text him this. ‘Dropped a whole fucking tray of blank slides in the lab. I’m fine, but I have a hell of a mess to clean up. Won’t be ready to go for another two hours.’”
Scowling the whole time, Arturo types my words, hits send, and pockets my phone. “I’ll keep this. Now get to work.”
Austin
Mik just swore. In a text. “We need to go. Right now,” I say as I snatch the keys for the SUV from the counter. Trevor follows me without question, and I double tap my earbud. It beeps when it starts transmitting, and then I hear Ronan’s voice.
“What is it?”
“Something’s wrong. Mik’s in trouble. Get the fuck in there now. Trevor and I are on the way.”
The SUV barrels down her residential street, and there better not be any cops between here and the lab, because I’m so far over the speed limit, they’d throw my ass in jail for sure.
Over comms, I hear Ronan arguing with the security guard. It’s not Thom today, but a different voice, and then the distinct sounds of a scuffle reach my ears.
“Fuck.”
“Talk to me, Austin,” Trevor says as he flips the safety off his Glock and chambers a round. I’ve never been so fucking glad to have him at my side as I am right now.
“Mik doesn’t swear. Ever.” I pass him my phone. “She’s not answering on comms. Do me a favor. Send her this. ‘No worries. How about I pick up sushi for dinner?’”
He shoots me a look of total and complete confusion, but sends the message, and I careen around a corner on two wheels. “Ronan? Talk to me, man.”
There’s a groan, and he whispers, “I’m down. Fuckin’ good Samaritans. They’re goin’ to take me to some security office in the basement and call the cops.”
Shit. We’re less than three minutes out, and I tear through a red light, narrowly missing some guy in a Tesla who gives me the finger. “Stall,” I tell Ronan. “We’re close.”
Trevor clears his throat. “She said ‘Sounds great.’”
“Mik hates sushi. Ronan’s down and the police are probably on their way. There’s one security guard in a booth at the entrance. But everything else in that place is secured. So we need the guard’s access card, and there are apparently some civilians in the lobby who bested your guy.”
“So, going in hot, multiple hostiles, and none of them are even the bad guys.” Trevor cracks his knuckles, and grins. “I haven’t felt like beating anyone up in months. This should be fun.”
The SUV screeches to a stop right in front of the Smithsonian’s doors, and Trevor and I race inside, guns drawn. “Everybody down,” I shout, then turn to the security guard standing over Ronan. The man’s on his stomach, his hands bound with a zip tie behind his back. “Keycard. Now.”
Trevor keeps the other five guys in the lobby in his sights, directing them to the far corner where hopefully, they won’t be able to stop us before we get to the stairwell.
As soon as the guard hands over his access card, I motion for him to join the rest, then pull Ronan to his feet. “Trev will get you out of those in a minute.”
“Fuckin’ hell.” Ronan’s jaw is already starting to swell, and his green eyes hold a lethal mix of anger and shame. “What do we think is happening?” he asks when the stairwell door shuts behind us and Trev pulls out his pocket knife to cut the zip tie.
I’m already halfway to the second floor. “No idea, except for trouble. Be ready for anything.”
Bursting into the hall at a run with Trevor and Ronan right behind me, I head for the lab.
“Down!” Ronan shouts, and I hit the floor as a shot rings out. “Fuck,” he groans.
I return fire, hitting a tall man I don’t recognize standing in front of the lab door. He crumples to the ground, the bullet hitting him center mass, and his gun falls from his hand.
“Ronan, status!” Trev orders.
“Go. I’ll live.”
Before we take more than two steps, Arturo bursts out of the greenhouse with his arm around Mikayla’s neck and a gun pressed to her temple. “Lower your weapons now,” he says, “or I will kill the doctor.”
Two other men follow them. Fuck. Both Dr. Branch and his research assistant, Wally, are part of this thing, and Wally has a giant plastic tote balanced on his shoulder with orchid roots spilling over the sides.
“Austin,” Mik rasps. “D-do what they want. Once I give them the samples from the lab, they’ll leave.”
She’s terrified. I can see it in her eyes. “No, Mik. I won’t let them hurt you.”
Trevor used to be a sniper. If I give him an opening, he can take out Arturo. The doctor isn’t a threat. I could probably snap him in half without even breaking a sweat. Wally? Who the fuck knows.
“Please. I’m going to take them into the lab. I processed all the samples earlier. They’re ready to go. It’ll be okay after that.” She and Arturo have reached their dead compatriot, and Dr. Branch drags the guy away from the door. Wally sets the tote down, takes a keycard, and swipes it over the reader.
Arturo shoves Mikayla at him and aims his weapon directly at me. Fuck. We missed our chance. Wally, Branch, and Mik are already at the next door, and Wally has his hand around Mik’s throat.
They’re not stopping to put on protective gear, and suddenly, I realize that’s exactly what Mik’s counting on. She’s going to dose them all with the phytotoxin. But she can’t do that without dosing herself too.
Atropine. She showed me where it was. “Trev, do it.” I take my finger off the trigger and point the Beretta at the ceiling.
“The fuck?”
“Do it. Now.” In my periphery, I see him follow my order.
“Put ‘em on the ground,” Arturo says, and we lower the guns slowly, then, at his direction, kick them away. He motions for us to move towards the greenhouse, backing into the decontamination chamber as we pass, not giving us an opening to tackle him.
Trev and I take slow, deliberate steps, and as we pass the door, I see Wally shoving Mik towards a lab bench, where she stumbles and crashes to her knees.
“Where are the samples?” the doc asks.
“In cooler two.” She locks eyes with me for a split second, and the regret in them…she knows she might not survive this.
“On your knees. Both of you,” Arturo says.
“I don’t kneel for anyone,” I snarl. “And when I kill you, I’m going to make it hurt.”
“The cops are probably here by now,” Trevor says. “How do you think you’re going to get out of here?”
His eyes widen. “Hurry the fuck up,” he shouts. “These assholes called the cops!”
“Goddammit!” Branch snaps, grabbing Mik by the arm and pushing her towards the coolers.
Enough of this shit. I just hope Trevor understands what I’m about to do. “Remember that time in Kabul?” I ask. Everything about that mission was ass-backwards and upside down, and right now, that’s our best hope.
“Yeah…”
“Go high,” I shout, and both Trevor and I drop and roll as Arturo aims where he thinks we should be—at least three feet above where he should be looking. Trev tackles him, and I come up at a dead run as metal crashes in the lab and Branch groans.
The dust cloud surrounds the two men inside, and it takes me interminable seconds to find a mask and a pair of gloves while Wally, Branch, and Mikayla start to cough. At least Mik pulls her shirt up to cover her mouth as she stumbles toward me, but the Atropine is inside the lab, not out here.
Collapsing just inside the decontamination chamber, she curls into a ball, and goddammit, I am not going to lose her. Wally and Branch are clawing their way to the door, and I kick Branch in the head, yank open the glass door to the cabinet, and grab the whole tray of Atropine syringes.
As soon as I reach Mik’s side, I hit the button to start the decontamination spray, which seals the door to the lab, trapping the other two inside. With all the Atropine out here. I should feel bad. Feel something for them, but I’m too worried about Mik.
“Please, sweetheart. Fight for me.” Jabbing the needle into her thigh and depressing the plunger, I pray I won’t lose this woman before I ever have the chance to tell her how I feel.
She coughs weakly and blinks up at me. “You…got my…message.”
“A whole fucking tray? Yeah. I did.”
Trevor comes up behind us, his phone pressed to his ear. “Make the call, Dax. Or we’re all going to be arrested in under two minutes. That big asshole is dead. Snapped his fucking neck.”
Two minutes was being generous. Five police officers come tearing down the hall, and I cradle Mik in my arms. “Call a fucking ambulance!”
“Let the woman go and back away,” the lead cop orders. “Now!”
“Officer, I’m Major General Austin Pritchard with the United States Air Force.” I don’t care that it’s a lie, that I’m not that man anymore. I just need him to believe me until the EMTs get here. “This woman is my girlfriend, and she’s bradycardic. Her heart rate is dangerously low, and she needs an ambulance immediately. I’m unarmed, and I’m not letting her go.”
They grab Trevor and shove him to his knees before cuffing him, and Ronan gets the same treatment, despite the blood staining his gray shirt at his waist.
“I’m not going to ask you again,” the cop says.
Mik struggles to sit up, and I help her, but don’t let go. “He’s telling the truth,” she says. Her voice is so shaky, but her words are clear. “He saved my life.”
“Bowers!” another officer calls out. “The chief said Pritchard, Moana, and Murphy are off limits. Stand down.” He focuses on me and Mikayla. “EMTs just arrived on scene. They’re on their way up now.”
Thank God. I cup Mik’s cheek. “You’re going to be fine, sweetheart. Just stay with me, okay?”
“Uh huh,” she says with a weak smile. “Have to stay. ‘Cause I love you.”
I don’t get a chance to say the words back to her because the EMTs rush over, and I have to move aside. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, handing her over to them, but once she’s stabilized, I’m never letting her go again.
Epilogue
Austin
Sitting in the hard plastic chair next to Mik’s hospital bed, I can’t stop thinking about just how close I came to losing her.
Trevor’s standing guard outside the room, with someone named Tank from Second Sight on the way, and Ronan’s already been released—against medical advice, but the man refused to stay after they stitched up his side. He lost a fair bit of blood, but the wound wasn’t serious.
My own heart rate was a little on the low side, but the doc who examined me doesn’t think I need anything other than a mega-dose of caffeine unless I start to get dizzy or experience tunnel vision or muscle weakness. So I drain the fourth cup of coffee I’ve had in the past hour and watch Mikayla sleep.
There’s a soft knock at the door, and then Trevor slips inside. “Tank’s here,” he whispers. “He’ll stay all night. I assume you’re not leaving her?”
“Would you leave Dani?”
“Fuck no.” He turns back to the door, but I stop him before he can open it, my hand on his shoulder.
“Trev…” I don’t have the words to thank him for what he did for me. For Mik. Putting his own life in danger, risking arrest, fighting the demons I know are haunting him even now.
“No. You will not thank me. This is what family does, Austin. I didn’t have one for a long time. Or…I didn’t think I did. As much as your parents welcomed me into your home, all the nights I had dinner there, spent spring breaks in New Haven, Christmases…I didn’t see it. I was the orphan. The kid you invited along because you pitied me.”
“We never pitied you.”
“I know.” One corner of his mouth pulls up a little, and he huffs out what might be a chuckle. “Now. Took me a long time to come to terms with it. A solid eight months. Hell, Dax and Ford remind me at least once a week. Or they did until I started to open up to them a little. Talk about what happened in Venezuela.”
“Soon, if you’re up to it,” I say, nervous as fuck I’m going to hurt him with my next words, “we need to talk about Gil. About everything that went down five years ago. We never really…”
“I know, man. Once things settle down,” he nods towards Mik, “you say the word and I’ll come back. After all, I still haven’t met her. Or, you can bring her to Boston. She’s part of the family now.”
“Yeah. She is, brother.” I still have my hand on Trev’s shoulder, and I pull him in for a quick, hug. “Tell Dani I love her and I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“Will do. Get some rest.”
When the door snicks shut and I return my focus to Mikayla, her eyes flutter open, she smiles, and holds out her hand. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.” Returning to the chair, I link our fingers. Hers are cold, and the heart rate monitor still beeps too slowly for my liking. Or her doctor’s. “Did we wake you?”
“No, that was the blood pressure cuff. I hate hospitals.” She closes her eyes, and I think maybe she’s fallen asleep again, but she squeezes my hand gently. “You can’t sit in that chair all night.”
“I can. Because you need to rest.”
“I’ll rest.” She pins me with a hard stare, despite the exhaustion in her eyes. “If you hold me.”
There isn’t a single thing I won’t do for her, so I lower the bed rail and stretch out next to her. “Your wish is my command, sweetheart. Now and forever.”
“That’s better,” she says, but her body’s still tense.
“Mik, what’s wrong? And don’t say nothing.” Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I breathe in her scent, and though it’s marred by antiseptic and the smell of the decontamination mist from the lab, it still calms me.
“I don’t remember what happened,” she says quietly. “After he…after Wally dragged me into the lab…it’s all a blur.”
I can’t take away what happened. I can’t magically raise her heart rate or get her discharged early. I can’t take her home no matter how much I want to. But this? This, I can do.
I talk until she falls asleep in my arms, telling her how Trevor, Ronan, and I got up to the second floor, how Trev took Arturo down. How Wally and Branch died sealed in the lab because of how much phytotoxin Mik had managed to throw in their faces. About the cop threatening to shoot me. Dax’s lightning fast phone call.
Once I know she’s out, I close my eyes and let myself drift off next to her. I still haven’t said those three important words to her, and I don’t know if she remembers saying them to me. But I know they’re true. And deep down, I hope she does too.
Thirty-six hours later
I rush around the SUV to open Mik’s door and she scowls at me. “Austin, I’m fine. Clean bill of health. No lasting damage. I can get out of a car by myself.”
“Not while I’m around, sweetheart. At least not yet. My father would rip me a new one if he found out I wasn’t taking care of you well enough.” Scooping her into my arms, I ignore her protests and manage to carry her all the way inside and to the couch before I have to let her go.
“You do realize I’m going back to work in a week, right?”
“I do. And for the next seven days, I’m going to pamper you until you’re sick of me.” I head to the kitchen and flip on the coffee maker, then rummage around in the cabinet for Mik’s favorite chocolate bar—fair trade and organic—a tin of homemade snickerdoodles from Evianna, and a bag of veggie chips.
I hated leaving her at the hospital for even a few hours, but retrieving her favorite yoga pants and Berkeley t-shirt and receiving Evianna’s delivery were worth it. Especially when she gapes at the tray of food I set on the coffee table.
“Holy crap, Austin. When—?”
“Evianna baked the cookies—Dax’s wife?—and Li told me what chocolate to buy. Oh, and there’s one more thing.” I grab the flat box next to the couch and set it on her lap. “That’s from Wren.”
“Seriously?” Mik pulls the top off the box and breathes a faint, “Oh.” The blanket looks like someone skinned a yeti, but it’s soft as fuck and Mik runs her hand over it with something approaching reverence before she pulls it from the box. “I don’t understand…”
Tucking the blanket around her, I take the opportunity to kiss her—really kiss her—for the first time in days. We spent most of her time in the hospital watching old movies on the small TV and just being…together. But I couldn’t find the words to tell her how much I love her. Or explain what she’s gotten herself into with me.
“You’re part of the family now.” The coffee maker spits out its last drops, and I return to the kitchen to pour us each a cup.
“But they’ve never even met me.” Mik accepts the mug from my hands and breathes deeply. “Oh, God. That hospital coffee was awful.”
“I know.” After a generous sip, I settle back against the cushions and wait for her to mirror my movements. “Dax, Ryker, and Ripper always considered themselves brothers. The three of them were captured by the Taliban six—no—seven years ago. They spent months in a place called Hell Mountain, tortured for information they never gave up. That’s where Ry got his scars, where Dax lost his sight, and where Ripper…” I shake my head. “Where Ripper disappeared.”
Mik listens as I explain as much as I think I should. So many of the stories belong to the men and women they happened to. But before I tell this intelligent, beautiful, and slightly haunted woman that I love her, she needs to know what she’s signing on for if she decides to love me back.
It takes two cups of coffee, a whole chocolate bar, and four of Evianna’s cookies. But when I’m done, I hold her hand and draw circles on the inside of her wrist with my thumb. “You said you didn’t remember anything that happened after you threw that vial of phytotoxin in Branch’s face. But…you said something to me.”
“I love you.” There’s no hesitation in her words. No doubt. “That, I remember. But…you never said it back.” Uncertainty swims in her eyes, and I take her in my arms and drag my knuckle along her cheek.
