It’s been almost twenty-four hours, and the medical staff is losing their patience with me. At least that’s better than their looks of pity at the guy who used to be a capable CIA operations agent but now, will be lucky to ride a desk for the rest of his life.
I had a job to do, and I failed. My emotions swing between anger and depression—proving I’m well on my way through the stages of grief. Denial only lasted as long as it took me toverygingerly touch the bandaged stump of my left arm. And bargaining? No amount of that is going to regrow the limb.
With nothing else to do, I’ve been trying to write down every detail of the attack. The CIA and JSOC will want to debrief me soon, and I need to unscramble my thoughts before they do. I’d stop fighting to stay awake, but the nurse comes in on the half hour to check my vitals. If he won’t answer my questions this time, I have what I hope is a very effective threat all queued up and ready to go.
Who am I kidding? Hours ago, when they got me vertical so I could take a piss, my equilibrium was so shot to hell I only managed two steps before crashing into the tech helping me. I can’t fight a mouse in my current condition.
The light shifts as the door opens, and I drop the pen onto the notebook in my lap.
Oh, fuck.
The man being pushed toward me in a wheelchair looks nothing like Major General Austin Pritchard. He’s aged a decade in under a day. Then again, no one’s let me anywhere near a mirror. For all I know, I look worse.
“Pritchard.”
His right arm is held tight to his body in a sling, and he struggles to sit up straight as he meets my gaze. The pity in his eyes is like a knife to my chest, and neither of us says a word until he nods at the aide behind him, and the man leaves us alone.
“Assuming they told you I can’t hear shit?”
He pulls a cell phone from the pocket of the thin hospital robe, taps the screen a couple of times, and then turns it towards me as he angles his head towards his right shoulder.
Speech-to-text is shit, but best I can do.Shot three times. Threatened to crawl in here if nurse didn’t help.
I huff out what might be a laugh. “You would have done it, too.”
Damn straight.
What the hell do you say to the man whose life you just saved? Who probably feels like he’s the reason you only have half your arm?
“I’d do it again. Even knowing what would happen. That’s the job.”
From the way his chest stutters with each breath and his eyes water, that was exactly the wrong response, even if it was the truth.
“They won’t tell me anything. Did the ambassador make it out?” Distraction. Ignore the big issues. Like not being able to hear. That’ll work, right?
Austin nods, then starts speaking into his phone. After a minute, he shows me the screen again.
She and her son are fine. But Nagan, Harrison, and Levy didn’t make it. We killed three of them, but two of the duckers got away.
“Who sold us out?” I try to sit up straighter, but the room tilts on its axis, and I collapse with a groan.
Austin scoots forward in the wheelchair, pain tightening lines around his eyes as he touches my shoulder.“Take it easy.”
At least that’s what I think he says. My lip-reading skills were never more than passable. Someone needs to get me a tablet so I can practice. Finally, a use for YouTube.
“Easy? Since when is sitting upnot‘taking it easy’? I can’t even get myself out of this fucking bed.”
Austin closes his eyes and presses his lips together. His right cheek is black and blue, and bandages peek out from under the hospital gown at his shoulder. Retrieving his phone, he returns to dictating.
JSOC is sending a special investigations team. Working theory is someone in the ambassador’s office, but hell if I know. Or care. I’m out. Retirement paperwork pushed through. Not my choice.
He pauses for a long moment, tugging at the neck of his hospital gown. A hint of red seeps through his bandages.
“Austin, for fuck’s sake. You saved her life.”
This man who spent his entire career in the armed forces, who worked his way up through the ranks of the Air Force, who has been, by all reports, one of the best commanders JSOC has ever seen, was just fired?
I failed. Everyone. Especially you.
