Elissa started to rush toward Gina but stopped short like she was about to charge into a china shop once she got a look at her friend’s condition. She looked across the room at Malcolm who was in the same shape, judging by his moans as he was untied.
“All right, triage,” she said to herself, and Lach was reminded that among Elissa’s many talents, she’d been an EMT. She pressed her fingers against her wrist, taking her own pulse first. Then she pointed to one of the men.
“You. Call an ambulance or however it works here.” She pointed with two fingers at two other men. “You guys, get that garbage out of this room before anyone gets here,” she said as she eyed Jeremy’s lifeless body. “Lach, status report on Gina.”
“I’m okay,” Gina murmured. “Are you? And Mal?”
Lachlan added, “No visible wounds. Killer headache. Suspected exposure to a chemical agent. Jeremy didn’t do that to you?” he asked Elissa.
“Well, the bastard roofied me or whatever in Key West, and I woke up here with a screaming headache, but it’s totally gone.” She looked at Lachlan and Gina like she was really seeing them for the first time, and smiled. “Okay, since you’ve got her and she’s stable...”
Elissa scurried across the room and knelt down beside Malcolm. She grabbed his wrist. “Hey, you big dummy. Don’t run off like that ever again.”
“Don’t worry,” Malcolm groaned.
“I’d wallop you myself but I’m letting Annalie have that pleasure.” She checked him over, asking him questions. Her voice became background noise while Lachlan held Gina.
“Medics are on their way, lass. You’re gonna be all right.”
She nodded and winced and he fought not to pummel her with questions. He noticed the floor beside her chair was covered in vomit.
Please, God, don’t make me a liar. Let her be all right.
* * *
The next few weeks were hell and heaven and hell again.
Hell because of all the chaos Jeremy Heath caused. Lachlan sent Elissa back to Los Angeles—flanked by two of Sana’s best guards—as soon as they were sure Gina and Malcolm were stable. She and Nash were providing him with regular updates on the state of Watchdog. Everyone who wasn’t in on the special ops side of the business wanted to know what the hell was going on with their bosses. And those who knew were still reeling. Lachlan imagined they would be for a while.
Then there was The Repair Shop. Lachlan worried that they’d continue their attacks so he refused to leave Gina’s side at the hospital. But Sana helped with that, pulling rank and demanding heightened security for the victims of what she termed a terrorist attack. The Swiss news called it that too for the first week, then suddenly changed their tune. Then it became a gas leak that had sickened several unfortunate patrons who were expected to make a full recovery.
Lachlan had wondered what strings had been pulled and who’d done the pulling since that wasn’t Sana’s work. But he didn’t have to wonder long. He received a simple message:
Thanks for cleaning house. Got it from here. We’ll be in touch soon.
Atlantis
Lachlan scoffed.Someone must have gotten a call from Walker Dean, whose death was greatly exaggerated.
A second message had come the day before. This one was longer and informed Lachlan of the next steps The Repair Shop would be taking in light of recent events as well as Watchdog’s part in cleaning up the mess.
BastardLachlan thought.Should have cleaned his own house long before now.
He shook off his anger and checked over the bouquet of sunflowers he’d just bought for his Sunshine.
Priorities.
Cleaning house could wait. He would not make Gina wait. Never again.
The other, bigger part of hell for Lachlan was Gina’s condition. She and Malcolm were both examined and found to have cerebral edema, which accounted for the headaches, nausea, short-term memory problems, and extreme fatigue. Gina had it worse than Mal, who joked it was because of his thick skull. The Swiss doctors were baffled, but that was because they weren’t being told the truth about the cause. No one was—that was classified, especially not that the U.S. government was involved.
More bastards.
Talking to Malcolm Lach learned that whatever the hell weapon Heath had used was directed at Malcolm and Gina, and that she’d taken the full force of the blast. The other people in the restaurant were collateral damage. As for the weapon and its whereabouts? Well, that was classified of course. Lachlan guessed it was being taken apart and put together again, heavily studied and cataloged. God help them all if this was warfare now.
Lachan paused outside Gina’s door and gathered his strength. He tried to shield her as much as possible from the fallout as she recovered. Rest and no stress was what the doctors prescribed. Otherwise, they would have been Stateside by now but Lach didn’t want to risk it. The changes in pressurization in the plane’s cabin alone would wreak havoc and make her headaches worse. The same went for Malcolm. He was in the hospital room next door, Annalie at his side. He was getting released later today with an invitation to stay with Sana until he felt good enough to travel. The woman was a Godsend through all of this. Lachlan had tried to thank her for everything, and she just laughed him off.
“You saved my life,” she simply said. “End of discussion.”
