Flint’s Battle (Team KOA Bravo #3)

Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

“Damn. What did we miss?”

Flint stumbled a step as he looked up at Bowie, wondering what the hell his buddy was talking about. Though in Flint’s defense, he hadn’t really been paying attention as he’d walked across the ward, still lost in the smile on Emery’s face. How she’d lit up even more when he’d told her he wasn’t going anywhere. Ever if he had a choice.

He frowned. “What are you talking about? Miss what?”

Bowie scoffed. “That’s what I want to know. Because you’ve got this love-sick grin on your face.” He inhaled. “Shit. Did you tell Emery you love her? Did she say it back? And we missed it?”

Flint gave the man a shove as he moved in beside him. “Shut up.”

“Damn it, you did.”

“I did not tell Emery that I love her.” At least, not in those exact words. Just like she hadn’t actually said she loved him either. But that’s what she’d meant when she’d told him she wanted him to stay. And what he’d implied when he’d answered in kind.

Quinn groaned. “Seriously, Flint? Muddying those waters, again? Because you can say no, but everything about you suggests Bowie nailed it.”

“I didn’t muddy anything because I know exactly how I feel. But I’m not an idiot. I’m savvy enough to wait until the woman I’m mad about isn’t hopped out on drugs and seeing double before I confess anything.”

“God, you really are in love with her.”

Flint sighed. “You make it sound like I’ve come down with some kind of deadly disease.”

“The deadliest.”

Carter chuckled. “Ignore him. Quinn’s more upset because he’s the last man standing than anything else.” Carter batted his eyes at Quinn as he made kissing noises. “Right, buddy?”

Quinn glared at Carter. “You’re all nuts as far as I’m concerned.”

“Don’t worry. We promised we’d make a rational decision if Castle can’t get the proof he needs to crucify those assholes. And while I know we’d rather wash our hands of the whole damn mess, we’re still SEALs. Still willing to make the tough calls. The sacrifices. So, breathe, brother. And let’s focus on razzing Flint rather than a decision we have to make in a few weeks.”

Bowie grinned. “So, what, exactly did Emery… Woah. Incoming family member. Put on your game face, Flint, or Emery’s older brother might have you arm wrestle him or something to prove you’re good enough to date his little sister.”

Flint ignored Bowie, nodding at Jack McClane when the man headed directly for them, not stopping until he’d joined their ranks. “Jack. I thought you and Clark had called it a night?”

They’d shown up an hour after Emery had arrived and had stayed until she’d finally gathered enough strength during a moment of consciousness to tell them to leave or she’d have them arrested. That she’d never get any rest with them hovering over her.

Both her brothers had looked at him, but Emery had simply smiled and announced the rules didn’t apply to Flint. That he was staying.

Jack kicked at the floor, glancing toward Emery’s room as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Clark’s driving mom home before she insisted on camping out in Emery’s room. The paramedic in her has a hard time not micromanaging every medical decision. And the last thing we need is her getting herself into trouble if that asshole who tried to kill my little sister shows up again.”

He inched closer, staring Flint in the eyes. “Because that is why you guys are still here, right? Why her captain has an officer on her door — more milling around the building. And I know, for a fact, this area has been closed while they finish some construction in the adjoining wing. Yet, there she is… In a bed I’m sure wasn’t open until this morning.”

Flint glanced at Bowie, but his buddy held up his hands as he nodded at Quinn and Carter — mumbled something about getting that latte for Emery.

Jack waited until the other men had ambled off to one side before crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t bullshit me, Flint. I want the truth.”

“I see that stubborn streak runs in the family. And yeah, Emery’s been isolated in case there’s another attempt on her life.”

Flint returned Jack’s intense gaze. “But since we’re dispensing with all the bullshit, you should know... I’m not here strictly as her first line of defense. Or because I have some weird sense of responsibility over what happened or as a favor to her captain. I’m here because I’m crazy about her, and I’ll be damned if I let some asshole mercenary put another scratch on her as long as I’m breathing.” He shrugged. “Just so we’re clear.”

Jack narrowed his eyes, openly assessing Flint before chuckling. “Leave it to Emery to fall for a SEAL. Which was painfully obvious, by the way. Borderline uncomfortable with how she looked at you. But now that I know you’re not going to break her heart…”

Jack cocked his head to the side. “You’re not going to break her heart, right? Because I’d hate to have to kill the guy who saved her life.”

“I’m pretty sure Emery would simply shoot me in the ass if I was one, but no. If anyone’s getting hurt, it’ll be me. We good?”

“Aces.” He held out his hand. “Welcome to the family, Flint. We’re loud and use pretty much any minor disagreement as an excuse to fight. But there’s nothing we wouldn’t do for each other.”

Flint laughed, shaking Jack’s hand. “Good to know.”

“So, who’s in with Emery, now?”

Flint rolled his shoulders, still trying to ease the restless roil of his stomach. How leaving her for even a few minutes with a guard at the door and her friends gathered round still felt wrong. But she’d need the break, if for nothing else than her mental well-being.

“Her motley crew. They insisted on five minutes of girl time.” Flint glanced at his watch. “They’ve got one left before I crash their party. And before you lose your shit, there’s an officer at the door with a master list. No one gets in who hasn’t been properly vetted by her captain.”

Jack grinned. “In other words, Emery pulled rank and kicked you and your buddies out.”

“Gave me her best stink eye to boot.”

“That sounds like her, except the stink eye part. I’m betting it was more lovey-dovey goo-goo eyes where you’re concerned.”

Flint laughed. He liked Jack. “Not so sure about the goo-goo eyes, but their slumber party’s over. You coming, or are you gonna stand outside the glass wall like a creeper?”

He turned and took a few steps into the open area, glancing toward Emery’s room when he stopped cold. All that tension from before sparking to life — sending shivers down his spine as he spied Mia and Dahlia dragging Emery’s empty bed across the floor toward the window. What looked like handcuffs around their wrists.

“Bowie!”

Flint took off, rounding the corner then barreling into the room — scanning it before darting over to Bates. A couple of fingers along the man’s neck assured Flint the guy was still breathing. But there was no missing the welt at the back of his head. Or the blood matting his hair and staining his shirt.

Bowie skidded to a halt behind him, grabbing the key off Bates then going over to the girls. “What the hell happened?”

Dahlia rubbed her wrist as she pointed to the door. “This guy came in?—”

“Fisher.” Mia frowned. “He said his name was Dr. Fisher but he was lying.”

“Right.” Dahlia nodded. “He said he had to take Emery for some X-rays, but Emery wouldn’t go without one of you or a weapon, and then the guy was grabbing the officer. I swear I didn’t even see it all happen, it was just over, and he had the officer’s gun.”

“He was waving it around, saying he’d shoot us if we made a sound or if Emery tried to fight back. He made her get in a wheelchair and had Moana go with them. They headed down the hall.”

“Did he say where he was taking them?” Bowie glanced over his shoulder when Carter and Quinn darted in. “Mention any other names?”

The women shook their heads.

Carter moved in closer. “We checked the main hallways but didn’t see any?—“

An alarm cut through the air.

That’s all the help Flint needed to zero in on which direction to take because he knew Emery was behind the shrill sound. That she’d somehow managed to send him a signal. Guide him in the right direction. Bowie obviously agreed because the guy took off, handing Flint one of the guns the other men had been hiding so the nurses didn’t kick them out because they weren’t cops — were keeping their status on the down low as much as possible. But at least Flint wasn’t going in blind and unarmed.

They reached the elevator doors in under thirty seconds, but the damn thing was locked down. Stopped somewhere between the upper floors. Carter whistled, holding the door to the stairs open at the end of the hallway. He waved Flint through, checking the lower area before moving in behind them — guarding their six.

Had a door just creaked open above them followed by the soft click of it closing? Were those hushed voices or just the one inside his head screaming at him?

Flint held up his fist, signaling his team to stop when the lights winked out. Not flickering or dimming, just bright glaring fluorescence bouncing off the walls, then nothing but the faint glow of an exit sign half a floor above them.

There were definitely men in the stairwell with them, a couple scuffs drifting down from above. Bowie moved in close, tapping his intentions on Flint’s shoulder. His buddy would take point as the rest of them fanned out — made sure no one escaped.

Having to take each step slowly didn’t help them make up those wasted minutes. But if the men heard them coming, it could alter their course of action. Maybe have them resort to more lethal methods just to get the job done.

Not happening. Because no one was going to hear his team coming.

Flint kept to the outside, wanting a clear view of the situation as they rounded one corner then continued up. Cursing when a swirl of air curled down the stairs followed by another soft click.

They’d reached the next level.

Bowie picked up the pace, still silent as they made a dash for the exit. They gathered around the door, nodding when Bowie showed the countdown on his hand.

Flint’s buddy hit one and they were moving. Opening the door then spilling out into the hallway. Bowie and Carter going high. Flint and Quinn going low. Shadows moved up ahead, disappearing down another hallway.

Bowie moved in close. “Power’s out. We need to assume they’ve got countermeasures.”

Flint nodded, frowning when Jack slipped through the door behind them. He’d thought Jack had nodded when Flint had motioned for the guy to wait at the stairwell. Not that Flint was surprised. Jack didn’t strike him as the kind of man to let others take the risk.

He gave the man a shake of his head before looking at his teammates. “Emery and Moana’s safety is all that matters. If that means letting these assholes go, then that’s what happens. Because I promise you, we’ll track them down later.”

“Bastards won’t be able to run far enough if they’d put a scratch on those two.” Bowie looked at Jack. “I knew you wouldn’t stay behind. Just keep back unless we need you because I assume you’re a paramedic too, right?”

Jack didn’t answer just nodded as he moved in behind Carter. And damn, the guy looked like a natural. Following them down the corridor without making a sound. Getting in their way.

Bowie rushed ahead, clearing the hallway the assholes had darted down then waving the team on. They quick-stepped along the corridor, cursing when a voice cut through the silence. Flint wasn’t sure if it had been a version of Emery’s name or something else, the hollow echo messing with the sound quality.

Not that it mattered because they were racing up the hallway a moment later — zeroing in on the silhouettes standing at the next junction. Looking down the joining hallways as if deciding which direction to take.

The tangos must have sensed Flint’s crew was behind them because one guy turned, calling out to the others before they broke into two groups — each taking one of the branches.

Bowie took off, following the guys who’d gone right. Carter backing him up. Quinn and Jack followed Flint to the left, pausing at a set of sliding doors before darting through then over to the next corner.

Quinn took a quick peek, ducking back when someone opened fire, hitting the corner and spraying dust and drywall across the floor. Flint moved in close, jumping out when the shooting stopped — the men pausing to reload.

Flint didn’t give them the chance.

Two shots, two hits. Both men crumpling to the ground a second later.

He kept his weapon trained on them, just in case, as Quinn moved out and up, checking their vitals as he scanned the hallway. A shake of his head and they were off, again. Hoping all the noise hadn’t complicated Emery’s situation. Put her and Moana’s lives in more jeopardy.

Because Flint knew there were more men. And not just the two Bowie and Carter were chasing. This screamed a six- or eight-man job. Fully organized. Just like at the factory with contingency plans if things went for shit.

And they had definitely gone sideways.

Seeing two more guys up ahead only confirmed Flint’s suspicions. Not that being right held any sort of satisfaction. Especially when one of the men darted into a darkened room while the other broke off in what looked like an attempt to flank the other guy’s position. Box in whoever they thought was inside.

Flint didn’t need to see the drops of blood on the floor to know the tangos had narrowed in on Emery and Moana. He felt it. Sensed it down to his soul. That she was close.

Quinn motioned for Jack to wait in the shadows before moving to the door. He slivered it open, holding it ajar just enough for Flint to slip through before following behind. The room opened into a series of stalls, each one containing medical equipment encased in shadows.

Flint crept along the wall, keeping Quinn in his sights as his buddy mirrored him. They’d gotten halfway through the space when that asshole’s shadow darted past a glass wall, heading for the rear section of the next stall. Gun snugged against his chest. His attention focused on something just out of sight.

Emery. Or Moana.

Flint raced ahead just as the guy stopped and raised his weapon, training it near the back only to have Emery jump out behind him. She moved in close, kicking the back of his left knee before landing half a dozen punches to his torso — completely oblivious to the injury to her shoulder. Or how it might exacerbate her condition. Open up that crater on her back Kian had commented on in the chopper.

The bastard rounded on her, but Emery wasn’t backing down. Simply grabbed his rifle and slammed it into his face, knocking him back. He recovered in record time, taking a swing at her when Moana materialized out of the shadows — two paddles in her hand. Some kind of device hanging from a bag over her shoulder. She lunged at the guy, slamming them against his ears before pressing a button.

There was a loud buzzing sound then an arc of light across his glasses. Smoke curled up from his head as he jerked like a damn rag doll then dropped to the floor. No twitching. No groaning. Just his body splayed out on the linoleum. A static charge filling the air.

The other guy busting through another door at the back had Flint moving. Yelling for Emery and Moana to get down as he fired through the glass partition separating them. Grunting when the shot grazed the side of the asshole’s head instead of dropping him.

He tumbled backwards but managed to catch his balance against the door — retreat.

But Flint was already running toward Emery, trusting Quinn to guard his six. Cap anyone else who tried to ambush them.

Emery glanced up at him, eyes wide. Chest heaving. She smiled, collapsing against him a second later. Her body a dead weight in his arms. Just like this morning when he’d carried her out of the water.

Moana knelt beside him, face pale, practically hyperventilating. Those paddles still in her hands. “Oh god, is she okay? She wouldn’t let me take any of the risks. Kept saying it was her fault.”

Flint gave her a quick once-over, cursing the watery slide of her back. “You did great. Wait until I tell Bowie how badass you were. Jack!”

But Jack was already going to one knee beside Flint, using his phone to assess Emery’s wound. “She’s pulled open her stitches. Made a total mess of her shoulder.”

“You always did exaggerate, jackass.”

Flint inhaled as Emery twisted, lifting her head enough to stare him in the eyes. She was pale and bruised and looked as if she hadn’t slept in a week, but she was breathing. Barely. But alive. “He’s not exaggerating. You look like shit.”

“Charmer. Now, what are you waiting for? Go chase that asshole down. I’m sure he’s headed for the roof.” She arched a brow then nodded toward her brother. “Jack won’t let me die. Promise.”

“Emery…”

She lifted one hand — palmed Flint’s face. “You’ve already saved us. Again. Go.”

He glanced at the door then back at her, allowing Jack to take his place as he stood — took a few steps away.

Emery leaned against the wall as Jack removed his shirt — used it to put pressure on her shoulder. Her eyes rolled, a low moan rasping free.

He froze, any thoughts about running the asshole down fading until she blinked — met his gaze.

God, the smile she flashed him. As if he’d done more than just show up after she and Moana had done all the heavy lifting. Survived when they’d been outnumbered and outgunned.

She motioned to the door, tsking when he shook his head. “Go. But Flint? Forget everything I said the other night about playing by the rules. He’s not worth questioning.”