My pulse kicks up. "So Garrison ran but Briggs stayed."
"That's our assessment. Which means he's either waiting for orders or planning something on his own." Rivera's expression hardens. "We're increasing security around the hospital. Captain Caine wants you to stay here at NCIS during the operation."
"Of course he does."
I find Thatcher in the tactical operations room, maps spread across the table, his team gathered around. Sullivan, Garcia, Hayes and Santos all look up when I walk in.
"Gentlemen," I say. "Can I borrow the captain?"
They exchange looks. Sullivan grins. "He's all yours, Doc."
Thatcher follows me into the hallway, already reading my expression. "Rivera told you."
"She did. And apparently you've decided I'm sitting this one out."
"It's a tactical operation. You're a civilian."
"It's my investigation." I cross my arms. "I found the evidence, documented everything, nearly got killed for it. I'm not sitting in some safe room while you finish this."
"Gwen—"
"Don't you dare tell me to stay behind because you're worried."
"I'm always worried about you." His voice drops. "That's the problem."
The words hit harder than they should. We're standing in a hallway on a military base, where people could walk by any second, and all I want is to close the distance between us.
"I know the risks," I say quietly. "I'm not asking to be on the entry team. But I need to be there. I need to see this through."
"You've already seen it through. You did your part." He steps closer, voice lowering further. "This is the dangerous part. Thepart where trained operators with body armor and weapons go after armed suspects. You're a surgeon, not a tactical asset."
"I'm also the person who knows this case better than anyone except you and Rivera." I hold his gaze. "I can help. I can monitor communications, provide intel on Garrison's patterns, identify?—"
"You can do all of that from here."
"But I won't be there when it matters."
"Exactly. You'll be safe."
"I don't want safe." The words come out sharper than intended. "I want to finish what I started."
Muscle jumps in his cheek. "You're asking me to let you walk into a situation where Briggs is still at large, Garrison's location might be compromised, and we have no idea what kind of resistance we're facing. You're asking me to do my job while you're potentially in harm's way."
"I'm asking you to trust me to follow orders and stay out of the line of fire."
"I do trust you. I don't trust the situation." His thumb brushes my cheekbone. "If anything happened to you?—"
"Nothing will happen. I'll be in the tactical vehicle. Communications only. Not even close to the action."
"Tactical vehicles can become targets."
"So can hospital parking lots, apparently." I lean into his touch. "I'm going to be at risk until Garrison and Briggs are in custody. At least in the tactical vehicle, I'm surrounded by trained agents with armor and weapons... and I'll be closer to you and your team."
He studies me for a long moment. I watch the conflict play out across his face, the commander who makes hard calls warring with the man who wants to protect me at all costs.
"Tactical vehicle," he says finally. "Comms only. You stay in the vehicle, you follow orders, and if anything goes sideways you get the hell out."
"Deal."
