Heston (In the Company of Snipers #25)

Chapter Nineteen

Alex stood over his wife’s bed. He’d overstayed his welcome. Now that Dr. Kang, the neurosurgeon Alex had flown in from the East Coast, had performed the second surgery and replaced the portion of Kelsey’s skull he’d previously removed, she needed more than this understaffed joint had to offer. Like absolute safety and privacy. Protection. Anonymity.

“I’m taking you home, sweetheart,” he told her, as if she might suddenly wake up and argue with him. That’d be nice.

Her stats were good. Too good. Libby, Judy, and Doc Fitz all agreed how extraordinarily well Kelsey had breezed through both brain surgeries. Some doctor on staff here, Alex hadn’t cared enough to ask the man’s name, disagreed. Like a phenomenal prick, he’d stormed out of her room in a huff because Alex had deferred to Dr. Kang’s opinion instead of his.

“You do that, you fly her across country and you’ll kill her!” Dr. Nameless had spat on his way out.

Alex disagreed. Between Dr. Kang’s, Dr. Libby Houston’s, Dr. McKenna Villanueva’s, and Lead Trauma Nurse Judy Mortimer’s professional care, Kelsey would be in the best of hands.

Alex had given this place a generous donation when Kelsey had first arrived. Nobody’d argued with him then. But somewhere between then and what would surely be her quicker departure now, the administrator and his staff had turned on Alex. Which made him think. Think, his motto. His number one rule.

He damned well knew it. He should’ve figured it out sooner. The damned Irishman had infiltrated this hospital and paid someone off. Possibly the administrator. It explained how the bastard knew which room Kelsey was in and the phone number to that room. Which also meant some asshole had her in his crosshairs right damned then.

Alex jerked his new TEAM satellite phone up from his jeans pocket and thumb-dialed the secure line to TEAM HQ, which, right then, Mark Houston was carrying on his hip. Mark was somewhere on the hospital grounds, or inside, hunting Kelsey’s killers. Many TEAM agents were. Most had come to Kelsey’s aid. But things still happened and Alex was done taking chances.

“Houston here,” Mark replied.

“Activate TEAM protocol Spirit One.”

“About time. Consider it done. You take care of our lady. We’ll do the heavy lifting.”

Alex pursed his lips at the outright loyalty he’d come to expect from his TEAM. There were none better. None more loyal. None more dedicated.

Spirit One was the covert transfer of precious intelligence, high-level resources, or cargo. In this case, Kelsey. The heavy lifting would be his TEAM getting her safely out of this hospital and securely into the TEAM jet waiting for her on the same private landing strip she’d been flown in on.

Alex should feel better than he did, but the lump in his throat made it difficult to tell Mark thanks. “You—ahh—”

“Stow it, Boss. We’ve all been through crap before. Know what it’s doing to you now. Take a breath and chill. Order a beer. Relax. Put your feet up on the back porch. Kelsey’s tough. She’ll breeze through this next surgery like a champ. You’ll see.”

Mark’s words were what any good friend would say to a worried husband. In this case, back porch was code for TEAM HQ, where Kelsey would soon be safely ensconced below ground in the TEAM’s high-tech on-site hospital. Next surgery was code for the covert operation to get Kelsey out of the hospital, sight unseen, as efficiently and quickly as possible. She was Spirit One, and Alex meant to spirit her out from under the noses of hospital staff and that damned Irishman. Whoever the son of a bitch was.

The decompressive craniectomy Dr. Drake Kang had performed on Kelsey was no simple operation. Which was why Alex had called the acclaimed neurosurgeon and his team of experts from the East Coast to handle it. Kang’s team included reconstructive surgeons, anesthesiologists, critical care experts, radiologists, and rehab experts, to name a few. Once the initial surgery was completed, the swelling in Kelsey’s brain had reduced significantly. Alex would forever be thankful for that early sign she’d survive.

Until Dr. Kang had expressed his concern the day after the first surgery that Kelsey was doing too well, that she didn’t seem to be experiencing any pain or distress, both expected aftereffects of a decompressive craniectomy. Especially after the pounding her poor skull had endured in the river. Her blood pressure should have spiked. She shouldn’t have been as quiet as she’d been. She certainly shouldn’t have been a model patient. She should’ve been in pain. Should’ve tossed and turned in some sort of agony. He’d expected she’d at least be nauseous. Maybe have thrown up. Instead her BP remained low, signifying a total lack of stress after the hours-long surgery.

“Either your little wife’s stronger than she looks, or I’m missing something, Alex,” Dr. Kang had told Alex privately the morning after the second surgery. “I’ve run more diagnostics. There’s no indication of stroke, seizures, or intracranial bleeding, and that’s good news. But she’s too—too placid. Too calm. I’ve seen miracles before, Alex, but my gut’s telling me the sooner you get her back East where I can monitor her progress without someone looking over my shoulder, the better.”

“You don’t trust this hospital?”

Dr. Kang had shaken his head. “I didn’t say that, but I’m OCD like you. The helo you’ve got waiting on her is already equipped to transport critical care patients. I’ll be with her every step of the way. I suggest you get her out of here, and do it fast.”

“See you soon, Mark,” was all Alex could come up with.

“Copy that.”

Only when Kelsey was safely at TEAM HQ would he be able to chill. It’d be better if she woke up and smiled. But Alex had a feeling that wasn’t happening anytime soon.