“I’d give it to them if they had the capacity to handle it. But they’ll be destroyed.” Ian shook his head.
Zach pushed his chair back. “We have him for one count of murder, one count of attempted murder, destruction of government property. But with the Nigerian connection, we have him for espionage and treason.”
Ian straightened, then calmly closed the briefing folder. “Good. Burn everything that protects him.”
FORT NOVOSEL ICU
Shannon surfaced again slowly. The morphine’s effectiveness had bottomed out. They added Dilaudid. The pain was deep and grinding, threading through bone and muscle. Her chest burned with every breath, like glass shifting beneath her ribs.
Her left eye throbbed in a distant, ugly pulse. Her eyes opened… then stayed open, because even blinking hurt.
She tried to move, but nothing answered except her right hand, twitching weakly against stiff sheets. Straps, dressings, and the tight pull of bandages pinned her down.
A low ventilator hiss filled her ears. She was intubated. And she didn’t know why.
Her breaths hitched, ragged around the tube. Panic sprinted up her spine so fast, she saw white. The monitors chirped then screeched.
A shadow shifted beside her.Dante.
He stood instantly, filling her vision with steady warmth she remembered from somewhere safe, somewhere before everything broke. “Hey.” He leaned close so she didn’t have to look far. “Shannon. Your helicopter went down. You’re in the hospital. You’re okay.”
She tried to speak, but only a strangled vibration escaped around the tube. She choked, panicked harder, breaths hitching out of rhythm.
The alarms spiked.
“Shan, stop,” Dante said, voice firm but soft. “Don’t fight the tube. I’m right here. Look at me.”
But she couldn’t. Her mind was sliding sideways.
The helicopter.
The fight for control.
Esten collapsing.
The mountain spinning.
The canopy tearing apart.
The final impact.
Her right hand flew upward, reaching for the tube, fingers curling to rip it out.
Dante caught her wrist gently but decisively. “Hey. No, don’t do that. I know it’s awful, but don’t hurt yourself.”
Her eyes begged, enormous and terrified.
Hunt Montgomery burst in, Lucas Hale right behind him.
“She’s panicking,” Dante said quickly. “She’s going for the tube.”
Hunt took one look at her wild eyes, the alarms, her saturations plummeting, and knew.
“She’s going to extubate herself.” He grabbed gloves. “We do it for her before she tears her airway.”
Lucas’s hands braced her shoulders as Hunt disconnected the ventilator. “Shannon,” Hunt said firmly, all command and zero hesitation. “You’re safe. You’re going to have to breathe on your own now. I’m taking the tube out. Stay with us.”
She didn’t understand the words, but she felt Dante’s hand on her forearm, steady, grounding.
