“She’s with me,” I interrupt. “They put her on the train, chained like a dog. One of Ivanov’s men shot her in the stomach.”
“Shite. Brother…” I hear his sorrow for me. “Is she alive?”
“Aye, we’re flyin’ her into St. Petersburg.”
“Take her to the Euromed Private Hospital, I’ll call ahead and have the trauma surgeon waiting for her. He’s one of the best.”
“She’s pregnant.” My voice breaks.
“Ya’ didn’t know?”
“No. I think… she wanted to tell me last night but she stopped.” I look down at my wife, brushing her bloodied hair back from her face. Davina puts an oxygen mask over her mouth and checks her pulse.
“It’s thready, boss, but it’s there.”
Cormac’s talking and it takes me a minute to focus. “I’m patching in Dr. Blanchet, stay off the line and let him talk to Davina. We’ll be there as quickly as we can.”
“Find Natalia and Sven first,” I snarl. “They do not leave this country alive.”
“Aye. I understand,” he says, “be strong.”
We land directly on top of the hospital, and the trauma team is waiting, feet braced against the turbulence from the helicopter. I keep my hand on Morana’s leg as they lift her out and take her hand again as we race through the halls. Dr. Blanchet is already ordering multiple pints of blood. As the operating room door swings open, he steps in front of me.
“I am aware of the importance of these two precious lives,” he says steadily. He’s a brave man because my gun is already halfway out of my holster. “Are you capable of standing in the back and not approaching under any circumstances? You could kill your wife if you interfere. Do you understand me, Mr. MacTavish?”
My gun is back in my holster. “Aye,” I agree, “focus on my wife. I won’t make a sound.”
Davina is hastily gowned and gloved up as she goes over the wound with the doctor. “Exit wound in the back,” she murmurs, helping to roll Morana gently. A moan comes from her and I clench my fists.
Steady. You do not move a muscle.
“... a lot of blood…”
“...nicked an artery…
“...pregnant…”
Dr. Blanchet looks up, “How far along is she, Mr. MacTavish?”
My throat’s tight. “I don’t know.”
When the doctor steps back from the table, he looks deeply relieved as he pulls off his mask. “Your wife is going to be all right.”
“The baby?” I manage to choke out.
He gives me a sympathetic smile, “I’ll need to do an ultrasound, but she’s stabilized for now. There’s no indication of miscarriage. The bullet entry and exit were nowhere near the uterus. Why don’t you come sit with her in her room?”
Nodding firmly, I try to blink away the moisture. “Aye. Thank you.”
The room is darkened and the only light comes from the glow of all the machines around her. Dr. Blanchet murmurs something about “Overkill…” to Davina, but she shakes her head.
“Trust me doc, you should bring in every possible thing that can monitor Mrs. MacTavish’s health. It will guarantee the continued good health of yourself.”
It’s just the two of us now, my wife and me. Kissing her hand, I watch her pale face. “I’m sorry love, I’m sorry I didn’t replace Natalia the instant we talked about her, if I had taken ten goddamn minutes to switch her out, you wouldn’t have been in danger.”
Her chest rises and falls with her breath, but the movement is slight, it’s too shallow.
“You wanted to tell me about the baby, didn’t you?” Giving a wet chuckle, I kiss her hand again. “I’m thinkin’ back and we had that moment in Dublin. The back seat? It’s a better story to tell our kiddos than our first wedding, aye?” Smoothing my hand over her arm. “Maybe not the specifics of the night, but… All the girls from the train are safe, love. Every one of them. I know that will be the second thing you’ll want to know, after the baby. The wee one is fine.”
