Petula blanched. Sheila had a valid point. One that scared her far more than if they were dealing with Jefferson.
If it was, indeed, Bradly who’d come after Julian, Petula had no expectations thathe’djust want to talk with her. If this was Bradly, he’d want revenge for him having been locked up. Her thumb drive had gone a long way toward getting him incarcerated the first time.
Yes.He’d want her dead. And Julian, too, for daring to love her.
“So what do I do?” Petula deflated. “I can’t just sit here.”
Jett picked up the mic that connected the office to the team, but just as she was about to key it, Trask’s voice came through.
“We have our second victim. I repeat. We have the second logger. We’re approximately one and a half klicks downriver,” he barked. “Our man’s alive, but not doing well. He’s bleeding profusely from a leg injury. We’ve put a tourniquet in place, but he needs immediate attention. Requesting intel on the status of the shooter.”
Spence’s voice came across the airwaves, hard and clipped. “We just brought the first man in and left him with EMS. I’m headed back out right now to assess Julian, and take on whoever shot him. I’ll be armed.”
“Armed? In the water?” Petula asked Jett.
Jett’s face showed no surprise. “They all have H&K P11s that are considered waterproof. They also keep them in water-tight bags just in case.”
Jett then held up a finger so they could keep listening.
“My course of action depends on Julian’s condition,” Spence continued, “I’ll either accompany him back to shore using ourDPV’s, or if he’s not compromised, I’ll have him head in on his own. Then I’ll cross over to the opposite bank and make sure our shooter has either left, or is neutralized,” he stated harshly. “With my preference being the second option. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to move your injured man back to base.”
That was as serious as Petula had ever heard Spencer, but she didn’t have time to ponder what that meant in the big scheme of things before Julian’s chimed in.
“Bring me my weapon, Spence. I’m going with you,” he snapped.
Spencer, ever the voice of reason even in a maelstrom, must have known better than to shut Julian down on the fly.
The tone of his reply was placating.
“We’ll see how you are when I get to you.”
An audible grunt met that assertion, and Julian didn’t sound happy.
“Spencer out.”
It was clear that Spence had submerged and cut his communication capabilities without validating Julian’s request.
That made Petula feel a little bit better.
Spence wouldn’t give in if Julian needed attention. And if Julian was okay, anddidaccompany Spencer to the opposite shore, it would mean he hadn’t suffered anything life-threatening.
Still, she needed to talk to her man.
Petula tipped her head toward the mic that Jett was still holding.
Jett smiled knowingly and passed it over.
“Julian. This is Petula. How badly are you hurt?” she asked, unable to keep the trembling out of her tone.
“Don’t worry, Petula. It’s not bad. I promise I’ve had worse,” he replied.
Andthatwas supposed to make her feel better?
He continued talking. “Now that I’ve had a chance to examine it more closely, it looks like a gouge where the bullet grazed me. Lots of blood, but no muscle damage,” he assured her.
“Get it taken care of,” Petula ordered. “Donotgo looking for…” she glanced at Sheila and remembered what the young woman had broached.
“Listen. Sheila had a thought.” Petula changed venues. “She believes it might be Bradly who’s the shooter, not Jefferson. Especially because I’ve been so adamant that Jeff wasn’t trying to hurt me.”
