“Jamil is the traitor,” he said as distinctly as he could, hoping Sean could hear him. No matter what happened now, Bash thought, he’d kept his promise. The man he loved would live.
Then the world went dark.
29
For a long moment, Sean lay in complete surprise as the world went mad.
One moment he’d been kneeling for prayer, and the next, Bash had tackled him painfully to the ground. Bash’s heavy body pressed him down, trapping him while Sean heard screams of terror and shouts of confusion. Then he felt a warm, wet flow down his neck, and he gasped, struggling to move from beneath Bash, encumbered by not only Bash’s weight but the bulk of both his and Bash’s armor.
He felt Bash being lifted, and then he saw the blood — too bright, and too much of it — running down Bash’s neck. The guard who’d lifted Bash was staring at them both, but Sean didn’t have time for explanations. His doctor instincts kicked in, and he rolled Bash onto his back.
The bullet meant for Sean had struck Bash instead, and it had fragmented on hitting the armored joint at his shoulder. Bash was bleeding from several wounds, but the worst was the one at his neck. From the looks of it, shrapnel had nicked an artery, and if Sean didn’t move fast, Bash would bleed out.
Ripping off his keffiyeh, Sean knelt and pressed both the cloth and his palm hard against the side of Bash’s neck.
“Get an ambulance, right now!” he snapped at the guard, who was still bent over, ignoring Bash and instead looking Sean over.
Apparently deciding Sean hadn’t been injured, the guard nodded, pulling out a radio and barking into it. Sean couldn’t do much without removing his hand from Bash’s neck, but he looked as much as he could to make sure Bash wasn’t bleeding excessively from any other wound. He could smell the coppery scent of Bash’s blood, feel Bash’s pulse thudding against his palm.
“Don’t die, damn you,” he muttered, staring into Bash’s still face. “I refuse to let you die.”
“Your Majesty!” Mansur’s voice caused Sean to look up. He saw he was surrounded by guards, who formed a barrier between Sean and everyone else. He couldn’t see much, but he could hear the continued chaos around him. Then the guards parted briefly, allowing Mansur to step inside their perimeter before closing ranks again.
Mansur’s eyes went wide as he saw Bash laid out. “Mishaan — are you injured?”
“No, I’m fine,” Sean snapped. “Bash saved my life.” He frowned when he recalled Bash whispering into his ear. “Majid isn’t the traitor. Jamil is!”
Mansur looked shocked, and Sean didn’t have time or patience to explain. Not when the man he loved could die right in front of him.
“Just do it!” Sean snapped. “And get that fucking ambulance here right now!”
“Yes, Your Majesty!” Mansur pushed past the guards. Sean heard Mansur’s voice raised, barking out orders.
Sean focused on Bash, even as he was peripherally aware of the sounds of running feet and shouts around him. He didn’t know how long he knelt there, pressing his hand to Bash’s neck, alternating between praying silently and whispering to Bash that he couldn’t die. At last, however, the guards moved aside to admit a group of EMTs.
“Shrapnel wound to the neck,” Sean told them. “Get me a compress! You can’t move him until I make sure the wound is sealed enough for transport.”
An EMT placed a case on the ground next to them, then opened it to retrieve an occlusive dressing. Sean worked quickly to apply the compress to Bash’s neck as another EMT took Bash’s vitals.
Once the dressing was in place, and the EMT had reported that Bash’s blood pressure and pulse were stable, Sean nodded. “Get him in the ambulance, and start an IV,” he ordered. “And keep pressure on the wound!”
It only took a few moments for the EMTs to get Bash loaded on a gurney. Sean rose to his feet, intending to follow, but a hand on his arm stopped him.
“No, Mishaan!”
Turning to issue a stinging rebuke, Sean was surprised to see Mansur delaying him.
“I’m going with him!” Sean snarled. “I have to make sure he’s all right!”
“He’ll be fine,” Mansur dropped his voice. “You cannot be seen leaving in an ambulance, Your Majesty. I’ll summon an armored sedan for you, but you must have your guards with you.”
“Did you get the shooter?” Sean asked. “I want to leave for the hospital at once.”
“We’re still looking for Carapov and his accomplices.” Mansur shook his head, obviously pissed off. “But we detained Jamil. Can you explain why you believe he’s the traitor?”
“Bash told me just before he lost consciousness.” Sean lifted his hand to rake back his hair before realizing it was covered in blood. “Bash must have discovered something. Let’s pray he lives so he can tell us what it was.”
Mansur gathered the guards, and they escorted Sean toward the sheltered side entrance. Just before they reached it, Sean noticed another large group of guards who were standing, weapons out, around Jamil al Daoud. Hamid stood at his father’s side, looking confused and annoyed, without his usual cruel smile.
