Me: Not yet.
Kade: Hang in there.
A few seconds later, I divert the Border Sector Chief’s call to voicemail. There will be plenty of time for Homeland to question me once Scott’s out of surgery.
After yet another person in scrubs strolls by, my fingernails dig into my palms.What the hell is taking so long? Can’t someone give us a friggin’ update? What if he was too weak? What if my staples caused an infection?
I’m about to go Mount Vesuvius when FBI Special Agent Axel Wulf hands me a Styrofoam coffee cup. “You do realize you look like shit, O’Malley? You should get checked out while we wait.”
“I’m fine. Hunt caught a bullet, not me.” My throat tightens as I picture the pain in his eyes during those hopeless moments on the mountain. “H-He even jumped off a cliff.”
Brows furrowed, the silver fox’s mouth purses. “So tell me, are you worth it?”
What? Where the hell did that attitude come from?Before I can defend myself, the task force leader’s phone rings. “Excuse me, I need to take this.”
Earbuds in, lips to the device, the rude man who apparently hates me walks toward a deserted corner of the room.
Can I blame him? By now, he probably knows Iranians have been pouring into my piece of Vermont. I should’ve gone over Dante’s head ages ago. By protecting me, he put millions of people at risk.
Using both hands, I gulp down my hospital coffee, AKA mud, and grimace. Eating away at what’s left of my gastric lining, the caffeine kicks in.
When Wulf pulls out his headphones, I intercept him on his way to sit with his coworkers. It occurs to me, after all I went through, he could at least keep me in the loop.
“Can I ask if you confiscated the ricin?”
The G-man hesitates so long, I’m sure he’s going to say no. Releasing his resting bitch-face, he exhales. “The United States has some of the safest drinking water in the world.”
Head swimming, my knees buckle.
Holy shit, those chemists were going to poison our reservoirs? “But you stopped them, right?”
“Yeah, but not without casualties. That’s on you.” He scrolls his phone and lays it in my trembling hands for me to read. The article describes dozens of chemical factory closures.
“For emissions violations?” My eyes roll. “That’s the best lie your guys could come up with?”
“The Bureau’s got a whole department dedicated to misinformation.” He shrugs. “Not my circus, not my orangutans.”
Fresh out of snappy retorts, I lean back in the chair. Nervously, I reach for the epicenter, the place where the mercenary cracked my head open. My gentle probe sendsblinding shocks shooting behind my eyes with an extra dose of nausea.
My head is still between my legs when a physician holding an iPad calls out, “Agent Wulf?”
Struggling to my feet, I ignore the burning in my gut and join the other four gathered around the bearded man.
I miss the first part of what he says, catching only, “…into a private room soon.”
The task leader shoves a badge under the doctor’s nose. “National security. Can we talk?”
Heads together, they walk away.
What about me? Don’t I get to know?Fuck HIPAA.
Of the three left, the woman, Rhonda, appears to be the most approachable, so I ask her, “How is Scott? Is he okay?”
I’m ready for a fight until her eyes soften. “Oh boy. You got it bad.”
“Yeah, I love him.”Did I just blurt out my secret?
Steady grip on my elbow, she directs me into a chair. “He’s going to be fine. They were worried he might lose a kidney, but the treatment is working.”
