Scooping her up, Adrian fought through the pain in his leg and ran. He needed to get back to where his coms would work so he could tell Ryker to get the chopper in place.
“Hang on, Jen.” He spoke to her as he ran. “You’re going to be okay. Just a little longer, baby.”
Her blood covered them both, but Adrian ignored it and continued on. Yanking open the door at the end of the hall, he ran up the stairs and through the open area with the pillars, talking to the guys as he went.
“Target is down!” he yelled. “I repeat, Ortiz is down!”
“Damn glad to hear ya, brother!” Ghost’s voice came through crisp and clear. “Perimeter is clear. Moving inside, now.”
“Jenna’s been hit!” He huffed as he ran. “Get that fucking chopper here, now!”
“Shit. How bad?” Gabe’s worried voice broke through.
“Gut shot. Lower right abdomen. She’s—”
A bullet whizzed by his head. The damn thing was so close Adrian felt its heat as it passed.
“What the fuck?” he yelled as he moved behind one of the pillars. Holding Jenna close to his chest, he curled his body around her as best he could. “We’re taking fire!”
“Hang tight, Walker,” Ryker responded. “I’ve got the shooter in my sights.”
Chunks of their concrete shield flew off as a second bullet struck.
Jesus.“Today would be good!”
“Just need him to move another inch to the left…and…there.”
Glass shattered as Ryker’s bullet traveled through a partially intact window before lodging itself into the target’s head.
“Thanks.” Adrian blew out a breath and started running toward the building’s entrance. “We’re coming out, so if there are any other surprises I should know about, now would be the time.”
“That was the last straggler,” Ghost assured him. “Prick must’ve been hiding out in one of our blind spots.”
“We got an ETA on the chopper?” He’d no more asked the question when he heard the comforting sound of a helicopter’s blades in action.
Thank God.
Carrying the most precious cargo he’d ever hauled, Adrian burst through the doors and out to the grassy area he’d first crossed when coming here. From his peripheral vision, he saw the other men filtering toward the designated landing zone.
The chopper landed several yards away, and Adrian pushed his bum leg to its limits to get Jenna there.
Gabe met him at the opened side of the bird.
“How bad?” The worried man asked a second time as they worked together to load her into the bird.
Adrian shook his head. “She’s been unconscious for a few minutes and has lost a shit ton of blood. Ortiz…the bastard said he didn’t aim for anything vital. He, uh…” His voice broke, but he cleared his throat and tried again. “He wanted her to die slowly.”
Gabe’s face turned red, the vein in his forehead bulging at the thought of what that fucker Ortiz had done to their girl.
As the others waved the Delta men a quick thanks and farewell, Adrian kept his eyes on the one good thing to ever come into his life.
The bird took air, and they began their trip to the airstrip. Once they boarded Homeland’s jet, the pilot would be instructed to fly them as fast as possible back to Gulfside Harbor, which happened to have the nearest stateside hospital.
Adrian slid down to the floor and settled himself at Jenna’s side.
Taking her limp hand in his, he willed her to live. Since Matt was the medic of the team, he set about packing her wound with a specialized clotting agent Gabriella Turner—a crazy-smart scientist who was also Matt’s wife—designed for the U.S military.
The powder drastically slowed the body’s response to wounds, allowing for longer timeframes between extractions and care, which was why the military had paid Matt’s better half big bucks to continue researching and fine-tuning her formula.