Chapter 25

Twenty-Five

Planning ahead for an exit came second nature to McQuade. We’d removed the tracker from her, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more. Clearly, how the bloody hell else did they locate us so swiftly?

Aware of her cheek where it rested on my thigh and the helmet edge that dug into the muscle, I had to fight the urge to put a hand on her. I wanted to offer her comfort, but right now, I needed my attention on our surroundings. Especially when I could still taste her on my lips.

Sweet, yet intense. The heat was almost a cold sting and I wanted to savor it.

Locke and McQuade had studied this route both when they put the SUV in place and after. It was heavily wooded and they’d done markers—probably smart—to know where the path turned and twisted. The last thing we needed was to slam into a tree.

“Hospital?” Locke said over his shoulder as we cleared the last bit of trees and he turned onto an actual road. It was empty, and he didn’t bother with the headlights yet.

Smart.

“Yes,” I said. We needed to find the other tracker. The scanner hadn’t picked it up which meant it could be deep. The number of injuries she’d had—we hadn’t really had the time to get her a proper check up with an actual doctor.

Time to change that as well.

“Got it.”

The drive to the hospital took us the better part of an hour. Locke moved along the backroads until we were closer to a bigger city, then he switched to the highways.

The hospital he was heading for was one of the largest in the area. The campus included more than 3.1 million square feet of space, six buildings, and multiple specialties including a Level 1 trauma center.

We’d identified every single one within a driving radius of our planned stops. Overkill to some, perhaps, but I happened to agree with Patch. The only bad plan is the one we didn’t make.

“We’re close,” Locke said. The drive had been almost too quiet, but hopefully McQuade hadn’t left anyone to follow us.

I nodded and stroked a hand over her shoulder. She gave the barest of starts. Had she gone to sleep?

She stirred under the blanket and I drew it back and found her tilting her head to blink up at me sleepily. “I fell asleep.”

Surprise rippled over her expression as she smothered a yawn. She froze in the act of sitting up.

“It’s fine,” I told her. “We can take the helmet off now.”

“Grab a jacket for her from the back,” Locke said. “I’m dropping you here, it’s not the main entrance, easier to get around and avoid the ER.”

Solid plan. I had the basic layout, and we needed to head down to radiology, which the sign said was in this building.

I took the helmet from her and then held up the jacket so she could slide into it. The ground was mostly dry, and if I picked her up, it was going to limit my aim.

Still, she wasn’t walking over the uneven ground. I spotted a wheelchair near the doors.

That would do.

Five minutes later, I settled her in the chair then put the blanket over her lap. She shot me a worried look as she glanced around.

“Hospitals have a lot of cameras.”

“They do,” I told her. “Mostly on doors, and medicine cabinets and outside rooms. Some run on cycles, others have human observation. This is a risk, but one we’re going to have to accept because you were tracked.”

I had no problem lining the halls with bodies if it came down to it. But we needed to find the tracker and we needed to find it now.

“I trust you,” she said and the soft words pulled everything into sharp focus. We hadn’t really had time to talk before we’d been so rudely interrupted.

The fact she said she trusted me. Trusted us presumably, but me specifically? I absolutely refused to let anything rock that.

“Relax then, let me do all the work.” I gripped the chair and guided it down the hall. If the plans we’d reviewed were to be believed…

There it was. A locker room. The door wasn’t locked. I pulled her into the room with me. It took me about two minutes to find a pair of scrubs in the clean laundry stack at the back of the room. I grabbed a set for me, then eyed Patch to pick out a size for her.

She might appreciate something else to wear.

“Watch the door,” I told her as I stripped out of the clothes I’d worn and changed into the scrubs. Eight minutes after we entered the hospital, I headed down the hall. I’d acquired a chart from one of the desks and added some blank sheets to it.

“Know anything about doctor’s paperwork?”

We were waiting on the elevator.

“Some,” she said and I set the chart in her lap and gave her a pen before turning and backing her in.

The fact my clothes were stored in a bag at the back of the chair with my gun easy to access didn’t make me relax in the slightest.

“What do I need?”

“X-rays,” I said. “Possibly an MRI, but I don’t think we’ll need that.”

She nodded then filled out the paperwork. I didn’t glance at my watch. When the doors parted, Locke straightened from where he appeared to be waiting for us. Like me, he was in scrubs. He also had a different set of badges, one around his neck, and the other clipped to his waistband.

He looked like an orderly.

“This way,” he said, then strode down the hallway. Even with Locke present, that didn’t ease my concerns. Locke was very good at what he did, but he wasn’t McQuade. His presence meant I had two to cover.

He used his keycard to open a pair of doors at the end. The air that exited the secured space was icy. Patch shivered, but she didn’t say a word. Once we were through, Locke continued to lead us down to the last huge door. Radiation warning symbols marked all the doors.

He opened the last set. The equipment was vaguely recognizable.

“You know how to use this?”

“Mostly,” Locke said.”I think.”

Comforting.

I kept my opinions to myself. It was Patch who pointed to the room with the computer. “Most hospitals require you to use your ID card to log-in. It allows them to track and trace everything.”

“Yeah,” Locke said. “Really annoying. Hopefully Mr. Fernandez doesn’t mind giving us an assist.”

“If we have to override it,” she said. “I can help.”

“You always do.” Then he winked at her and I frowned. The ease of flirtation was something I’d enjoyed with Patch. I didn’t care to see the evidence in Locke’s expression or McQuade’s “Sugar Bear,” comments.

It took Locke a moment to login then he had the screens up. Patch leaned forward in the chair as he scrolled through.

“I think we can line it up to do the kind of imaging we want…most of it is the program, right?”

“Maybe,” she said. “Depends on how new it is. Let me look at it.”

Locke flicked a look at me and I nodded once.

“Careful.” I helped her up then moved back to cover the door. The limp was still present. It took her about three minutes to bypass the main system, then she was tabbing through a series of screens.

“Got it,” she said, explaining to Locke in swift tones.

“Sounds like a plan.” Then he scooped her up and carried her over to the table. Most x-rays were done standing, but I didn’t want her on her feet any longer than necessary. “No metal on you, right?”

“No,” she said. “I don’t think so.”

He gave her a careful pat down, the extreme gentleness not even something I could object to. Once certain, he moved the large arm on the equipment, then entered the numbers on the keypad.

There was a certain poetry to realizing she was providing the same kind of support right now she would have if we were doing this with her on the phone. It was selfish of me to appreciate her presence, even if I loathed the reason for it.

“Full body x-rays,” she said. “Always a good time. You boys should be in that room, out of the way of the radiation exposure.”

“We’ll be quick,” Locke promised her and then he pressed a kiss to her lips, it was swift, there and gone again. “My turn to say for luck.”

Then he retreated and I debated just shooting him. Not that he deserved a bullet in the head for that, but maybe a kneecap. Setting that aside for now, I checked that the door was secured and moved the lock to occupied before I slid into the cubicle with Locke.

“Problem?” He shot me a look and I eyed him.

“No. You?”

The corner of his mouth kicked a little higher. “Not yet. Let’s see what we see…here we go, Fallon.”

She gave a little jerk at the use of her name and I frowned.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice dropping after he hit enter on the screen and the machine arm began to move. It was cycling through a series of scans. “She isn’t used to her own name anymore.”

“Maybe the fact she hasn’t given any of us permission to use it should be your clue.” She had a beautiful name. If she didn’t want to be called by that name, then we shouldn’t be using it.

I would like to know why, at some point.

“Maybe.” Locke scowled as images began to pop up on the screen.

It rendered slowly. Too slowly. She’d broken her arm at some point. The stress to her fingers was also visible. Her ribs looked intact. Hips. Thigh bones. Overall, her legs looked fine. There might be evidence of old stress injuries or maybe mild fractures, but I didn’t see any actual breaks.

Then we got to her feet. Her shredded feet. Some asshole had cut them up and done a great deal?—

“Son of a bitch,” Locke swore and I saw it a split second later. There was a tracker buried in her foot. Likely in one of the numerous wounds they’d inflicted.

Our discovery didn’t escape her notice and I caught the flash of fear on her face. I hated it.

“We can get it out,” I told her. “That’s why we’re here.”

“But I can barely walk as it is,” she protested… “If we do more, I’ll just be a burden.”

“Then I’ll carry you,” I told her before I glanced at Locke. “You or me?”

“I’ll get one.” He didn’t wait to clarify for Patch, just left. We needed a doctor. One who had skills and knew what he was doing.

It would be nice if we could buy him off, but once he got the device out, we could stuff him in a supply closet if necessary.

Crossing to where she waited, I helped her sit up. There was something about lying flat in a room like this. It made you even more vulnerable than she probably already felt.

“I can’t believe they put it in my feet.”

“Hard to notice with all the soft tissue damage.” As much as I despised the fuckers, it was smart.

Thankfully, Locke didn’t keep us waiting. He returned with a doctor who couldn’t be that many years out of medical school.

“I can’t—” The man was saying then he stopped to stare at first me, then Patch, then back to Locke. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Doctor,” I said, raising my gun, because it was typically quite effective for cutting to the heart of the argument. “We need one thing from you and one thing only. Once you’re done, we’re out of here.”

“I don’t want to?—”

“How much are you carrying in student loans? Would it be worth it to you to do a minor procedure to ensure paying them all off?” I could certainly afford a half-million easily.

The doctor glared. “I have to report all gunshot wounds.”

“Then it’s your lucky day doc, it’s not a gunshot. Think of it as stepping on an extra-large tack.” Locke tugged him into the observation room tapped on the x-rays still on the screen. Frowning, the doctor glanced from the x-rays to Patch. It made me like him a little more. He was assessing the situation and her condition.

“Ma’am…are you being forced or abused?”

“I was,” she admitted, not shying from his gaze. “These guys saved me and if I don’t get this thing out of my foot. The ones who did this are going to find me.”

His frown only deepened as he continued to stare at her. Then he nodded once. “I need a suture kit and antibiotics. Do you have any allergies?”

“No.”

“Good. Stay here. The rooms are shielded and it should hopefully jam any signal.”

“Just like that?” It’s Patch who asked, doubt in her voice.

The doctor paused, meeting her gaze evenly. “Yes, just like that. I can explain or I can get the kit.”

Her reluctance to trust anyone was understandable, but I’d execute the doctor before I let him endanger her. “I’ll be with him,” Locke said. “We’ll be right back.”

At her nod, they left and she stared at me. “I want all of this to be real… and at the same time, I keep wishing it was just some nightmare that I could wake up from.”

“We’re real,” I promised. “As for the nightmare—we’ll deal with that too. If you’ll recall, removing problems is something I specialize in.”

An actual smile touched her lips. “You are very good at removal and erasure.”

“Yes, I am.” Facts didn’t require arrogance.

Eyes closed, she sucked in a deep breath before releasing it. Then the door opened letting the doctor and Locke back in. He was carrying medications and a pouch. Her nose wrinkled as he moved to her feet.

“Ready?” Locke asked her. The earlier smile flickered back to life.

“Can’t wait.”