Damage Control (Valiant Knox) (9 page)

The seconds dragged while the silence pressed in on him.

“Damn it, Mia, what the hell happened?” he muttered to distract himself from the seconds ticking by while he waited for help. Why had she been up here facing off with a masked shooter?

Her breath hitched and she shifted, derailing his thoughts. With one hand keeping his tank top against the wound, he set his other palm on her opposite shoulder to hold her in place. She seemed to be coming around, her face tensing into a grimace before her eyelids flickered.

“Mia, just stay still until the medics get here to assess you.”

“Leigh?” She brought a hand up to press into her forehead, her eyes staying closed. Already, a purple bruise had started creeping from the edges of the gash along her hairline to darken the skin around her right eye and brow.

“Yeah, I’m here, Mia. I’ve got you.” The words didn’t exactly come out steady, and he swallowed down the tension in his throat.

Her grimace deepened and she shifted slightly beneath his hold. “Oh God, it hurts.”

“I know it does, but I need you to stay as still as possible until the medics are here.” Even as he said the words, he could hear footsteps from out in the passageway.

“Captain Alphin?” someone called out.

“In here,” he threw over his shoulder. The
only room with the lights on, guys
. He would have thought their position would be obvious. A second later, a male nurse and sub-doctor rushed in, followed closely by Dr. Sacha Dalton.

“What happened?” Sacha shot at him as she dropped her emergency kit to the deck and got down on her knees on Mia’s other side.

“She’s been hit, high left shoulder. Not sure how the head injury was sustained.” He hoped he hadn’t done it to her when he’d pushed her down. He sat back as Sacha leaned forward and took over where he’d been pressing the now-bloody garment to Mia’s chest.

The nurse handed him a cloth, and he distractedly wiped at the blood on his hands as he watched Sacha examine Mia and ask her a couple of questions.

Movement in the doorway of the ready room caught his attention and he glanced up to see Bren and Seb stepping into the room.

He pushed to his feet and tried to pretend he hadn’t caught the slightly panicked look Mia had cast him. And then he had to clamp down on the urge to get back down on his knees and reassure her that everything would be okay. If he started acting like he had a right to comfort her, like he
needed
to comfort her, the disaster he’d been trying to avoid would come crashing down on them. It was far from his place to be the one offering her any kind of reassurance, no matter what familiarity had developed between them.

“What the hell happened?” Seb demanded as Leigh walked over to join his subordinate officers.

He shook his head to indicate they couldn’t talk about it here and motioned for them to follow him. He stepped out into the passageway, well out of earshot from Sacha and her two attendants.

“I came up here to check the notes for tomorrow’s class. When I got to the ready room, I found Mia facing off with some guy holding a gun. He took a couple of wild shots at us as he went for the door. She was hit. I chased him down to the transit, but I didn’t get a good look at him, and he wasn’t wearing a uniform.”

He clenched his fists, belatedly realizing he’d slipped and said
Mia
instead of Recruit Wolfe. But neither Seb nor Bren seemed to notice.

“Do you think it was the squadron traitor Yang warned us about yesterday?” Bren’s question effectively cut off the dark turn his mind had sucked him into.

“What other explanation could there be?”

“Wait just a second, did you say
traitor
? In FP squadron? That’s impossible.” Seb abruptly closed his mouth as the medics came past with Mia on a stretcher.

“I’ll fill you in later,” he replied as he half turned and cast a look over Mia. She had her eyes closed, and Sacha had wrapped a bandage around her shoulder and upper chest.

As the nurse and sub-doctor maneuvered the stretcher out of the ready room, Sacha stopped next to them.

“She’s got a nasty gash on her head and the shoulder wound from the shooting, obviously. It looks worse than it is. The shoulder wound is superficial. We can repair that easily with a micro-laser. I’m going to admit her to med level overnight to monitor her concussion. I’ll do a head scan just to be sure, but I don’t think it’s anything more serious. She should be fine for discharge around lunchtime tomorrow.”

“What will this mean for her training?” Bren asked.

Sacha shrugged one shoulder. “Depends on your dictates, I suppose. I would recommend she abstain from any physical activity for forty-eight hours after discharge and then light activities for another seventy-two hours after that, keeping an eye out for any headaches or dizziness. If that means she’s going to miss anything important to the agenda, then it’s up to you whether you give her a medical exemption or simply cut her from the program.”

Relief jolted through his system, clashing right into a stream of disappointment. This was it. He had a legitimate reason to decide right now that Mia couldn’t continue any further with the program, and his issues with her would be solved. Except then he’d have to live with the guilt of taking advantage of an already bad situation she’d been thrown into.

“Thanks, Sacha. I’ll contact you in the morning for an update.” He sent her a respectful nod, which she returned as she left.

Leigh crossed his arms and turned back to Seb and Bren. This wasn’t the first time they’d had to make a decision about an injured recruit over the years. But none of them had ever presented such a multilayered complication for him.

If this was any other recruit, one he had no knowledge of outside of the classroom, where would his decision fall? Because to be fair to Mia, he had to make the right decision for the right reasons, even if it meant leaving temptation in his path.

Chapter Nine

M
ia settled against the pillows as the nurse ducked out of the room, leaving her alone at last. Not long after bringing her up to med level, Dr. Dalton had given her some painkillers, so at least her face, head, and shoulder didn’t hurt as much any longer. But it hadn’t helped the sleepy fatigue dragging at her. Unfortunately, she’d had to stay awake as a sub-doctor used a micro-laser to repair her shoulder and then positioned her for a head scan.

Next there’d been a visit from a pair of military police, one stern-looking female officer and her bored-looking male counterpart, who’d questioned her about being on squadron level at that time of night and the man who’d attacked her. The questioning had brought on a headache, her answers increasingly jumbled, while the female officer seemed to become impatient, as though they needed something from her. Whatever it was, she didn’t have it to give. In fact, she’d been able to offer them very little. All she’d known for sure was her attacker had been male. Any other features or clues to his identity had been hidden beneath the dark clothes and hoodie he’d used to obscure his identity.

Dr. Dalton had eventually returned and shooed the officers away, then had a nurse come in to check her vitals. All she wanted to do was sleep away her aching head and hope she felt better in the morning. She didn’t want to consider what this would mean for her spot in the FP program, though the thought had surfaced and refused to go away.

She half turned on her side, settling into her pillow as she dropped into a doze. But before she could sink into a deep slumber, she sensed someone nearby, jolting her from sleep.

She blinked open her eyes to find Leigh sitting next to her bed, his elbows braced against the edge of the gurney and chin resting against his hands. The sight of him sitting there made her heart skip a beat. And that was saying something, considering she was half doped-out on painkillers and swimming in exhaustion.

“Sorry. I thought you were asleep.” The nearby lamp cast shadows across his intense expression.

She shifted so she could look at him without keeping her head on an uncomfortable angle. “Not quite. What are you doing here?”

A cynical smile flashed over his lips. “Can’t the CAFF check in on an injured recruit?”

“If that’s all this is…?” Regret that she’d questioned him pushed against the warm-and-fuzzies the painkillers had given her. The drugs had also apparently loosened her tongue, because surely she wouldn’t have said such a thing if she’d been in her right mind.

He shoved a hand through his hair, his blue gaze appearing darker in the dim light. “I needed to know what happened. Why you were in that ready room and how you got injured.”

She nodded, the action making her head throb. Even though she’d already been through this with the military police, she owed Leigh an explanation for different reasons. She took him through the events, from the media room until she stumbled on the masked man. “The last thing I remember is him smashing me face-first into a desk and then pointing a gun at me.”

Leigh winced. “So he’s responsible for your head injury. I’d thought that I—”

He glanced away from her, gaze troubled as he pressed a hand against his mouth.

“You thought that you what?” She reached over to take a sip of water from a cup the nurse had left nearby.

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter.” Leigh muttered a curse. “I chased him to the transit-porter, but he got away. They’re trying to track him now.”

She returned the cup to its spot on the trolley, feeling the weight of his regard. When she’d first opened her eyes after the attack and seen Leigh leaning over her, the relief that had flooded her body had been profound, every instinct telling her she was safe, that Leigh wouldn’t let anything else happen to her.

She’d never been the sort of person who expected others to take care of her, which was partly why she’d taken those extra combat classes. So her weird desire to let Leigh protect her, along with the comfort and sense of safety he created within her, was totally foreign. Which was why it was probably a good thing this incident would see an end to her spot in the program. She couldn’t deny any longer that she was feeling things for him that she shouldn’t.

“This is the end for me, right? Dr. Dalton told me I couldn’t do any thing physical for forty-eight hours after discharge and recommended light physical activity for another day after that. If I can’t participate—”

“We haven’t decided yet.” He dropped his arm to rest on the edge of the mattress, his hand close to hers, but not touching. “We found your datapad in the ready room. It’s smashed, but we still should be able to check the data files to backup your version of events. Ultimately, I could make the decision to cut you from the program, but in these situations, I always take the opinions of my team into account. Lieutenant Brenner, Sub-Lieutenant Rayne, and Sub-Officer Lawler will be deliberating on it tonight and giving me their thoughts tomorrow.”

She nodded, though she didn’t really think this “deliberation” made any difference—simply a stay of execution. She would miss vital training regimes in the coming days, so how could she possibly move forward with the program if she didn’t work as hard as the other recruits?

“Well, thanks for coming to tell me.” She dropped her gaze to the blankets, wishing she had the fortitude to tell him to leave, but not wanting to see him go until she had to, which was totally stupid. The stability of a permanent posting had to be all that mattered.

“I didn’t come here because I wanted discuss your spot in the training program.”

The intensity of his voice brought her gaze back up to him, like trying to resist the gravitational pull of a black hole.

“Then why did you come here?” She folded her arms across her middle, gripping the edge of the blanket as a small swell of apprehension rose within her.

“I need you to swear that what you told me about your attacker and why you were up in the ready room is the full truth, that you really don’t know anything else. This is vitally important, not just to the squadron, but to the entire ship. If you know anything, if you’re hiding something to protect yourself or anyone else—”

“I’m not.” The words rushed out on a spurt of desperation that he would believe her.

Leigh’s expression hardened. “This is the only chance you’re going to get. If it comes out later that you held even the tiniest bit of information back, it will end badly. And I don’t just mean getting sent off the
Valiant Knox
. I’m talking dismissal from the UEF and prison time.”

This time, her heart pounded for an entirely different reason. Something else was going on here, more than just an intruder on squadron level waving a gun around.

“I’ve told you everything I know.” Her voice came out low. “I wish I had more information. I want this guy found. You think I’m going to feel safe knowing that the person who shot me is walking around the ship?”

He sat forward, his gaze catching hers. “We will find him, Mia. Nothing else is going to happen to you. If you want, I can organize a MP escort for you until he’s apprehended. But there’s nowhere safer you can be than with the FP squad. Just don’t go wandering off on your own again.”

Her pulse skittered at his use of her name, at the way he stared at her with absolute certainty of the fact that she wasn’t in danger as long as she was with the FP squadron. As long as she was with him.

She shook her head. “I don’t need an MP escort. People are already going to be talking without adding a bodyguard to this ridiculous situation.”

His lips kicked up for a second, in what she was coming to learn was the closest he ever got to smiling. “Yeah, if it was me, I wouldn’t want a bodyguard either, but I thought I should offer.”

“Thanks.” The word came out a little awkwardly and then seemed to shift the tension between them. For a long moment there was silence, and she tugged at the edge of the blanket, trying to think of something to say.

“You should get some rest,” he said at last, shifting forward to the edge of the seat.

“Wait.” As he started to stand, she reached out and caught his forearm, stopping him from getting up. “If you all decide to cut me from the FP program, what’s going to happen to me?”

She had to ask, even though she could already guess the answer.

Leigh’s gaze became troubled before he glanced down. But by the time he looked back up, his expression was neutral and impassive.

“There’ll be a position on the ground made available to you.”

“On the battlefront?” Her worst fear, but if she ended up on the front lines, she would go knowing that she’d done everything in her power to avoid it. He didn’t reply, and she took his silence as confirmation. “There’s nothing else I can apply for, no other posting I could get?”

His gaze cut away from her. “Unlikely, here on the
Knox
. You could take it up with ground command when you get there, talk with Commander Emmanuel or Colonel McAllister about other positions besides the front lines. But nothing has been decided yet, so don’t start thinking the worst.”

“I can’t help it. I like to have a clear path going forward. And if that means I’m going to end up on the ground, then I want to be prepared for that eventuality. I’m not going to avoid thinking about it. I’m going to plan for every possible outcome.”

“We have that in common. I’m always trying to plan things ten steps ahead.” He looked back up at her, his expression a little less tense now. He reached up and covered her hand, where she still held his arm and hadn’t even realized. She tried to pull out of his grasp, a small thread of chagrin slipping through her that she’d been sitting there holding on to him. But his hand tightened around hers, not letting her escape.

“Getting attacked like that, getting shot, it can mess with a person’s head.” His low words washed over her with an intensity that she wanted to ignore.

“You know this from experience?” She tried to make the words light, tried to inject some levity into the moment, because the way he stared at her, she could almost imagine he cared. More than a CO should for a recruit.

Switching grip on her hand, he reached up and flicked open the top catches of his shirt, tugging it aside to show a puckered scar, half the size of her fist, on his chest. “Third year after joining the squadron. We were providing air support to a unit of ground troops pinned down by a contingent of CSS twice their number. Some lucky bastard took my jet down with a surface-to-air launcher, and I ejected on the wrong side of the lines. A CS Soldier found me while I was still strapped into my parachute. I was literally tied down, couldn’t do anything except lay there and watch him shoot me.”

Though he was obviously fine and sitting here in front of her, the bottom had dropped out of her stomach. “What happened? How did you survive?”

“I was lucky that we’d just inducted a couple of new pilots, including this cowboy rookie, Sebastian Rayne. He landed behind enemy lines, against orders to rescue me, and got there just in time to take the CS Soldier out before he could finish me off. It wasn’t the last time Seb disobeyed orders or saved my life, though I like to think I’ve returned the favor a time or two since.”

“Sounds like you’re lucky to have a friend like him.” She’d never had anyone in her life that would risk themselves to save her. She could only guess what such loyalty and devotion would feel like.

“I’m lucky to have an entire squadron of people like Seb at my back, which is why the FP program is so tough. We need to know that those who join our ranks really want to be there and will do anything for their fellow pilots.”

He lowered his head after he said those words and dragged a hand over his short hair as though something was weighing on him. She pressed her lips together over the urge to ask him if everything was okay. She had no right and knew he wouldn’t tell her even if she did let the words spill out.

He blew out a long breath. “Anyway, if you need to talk, if it starts messing with your head, then I want you to know that you can talk to me. I’m here if you need me.”

Maybe if he hadn’t been holding her hand so tightly, she could have told herself that it was no big deal, and he would offer the same to any of the recruits or pilots in his squadron, because that’s what a good leader did.

“Get some rest, Mia, and I’ll come by to check on you in the morning.”

She nodded as he let go of her hand and slipped out of the room, her chest too tight to form any words.

Maybe she was just seeing what she wanted to see in believing he regarded her as more than just another recruit. Because no matter how hard she tried to fight it, she couldn’t help seeing him as more than just her CO. She could see the man underneath, and he was starting to chip away at the protective defenses around her emotions.

L
eigh stood watching the double-shot espresso coffee trickling into his mug. There were only a handful of other extra-early risers on messdeck at this time of morning, and he wouldn’t have been down here himself except after a restless night, he’d finally given up on the idea of getting any sleep.

Every time he’d closed his eyes, the vision of Mia lying bloody on the floor bombarded his mind. He couldn’t work out why the image had imprinted itself on his brain and refused to budge. So instead, he stewed over who in his squadron could be the traitor and what it would mean for him and the rest of the
Knox’s
crew if the UEF removed Yang from his post.

He dragged a hand down his face, whiskers he hadn’t bothered shaving off abrading his palm. His eyelids felt like they had sandbags sitting on them. He was used to shift work, so the tiredness didn’t bother him as much as the multiple stress factors dragging on his shoulders.

The shooter hadn’t been found yet. The MPs reported that no one had gotten off the transit after it had left squadron level. The only explanation had been that somehow the man had gotten off between stops, and he couldn’t imagine how the guy had managed that without help.

Stanton, the Command Intelligence guy, had put in a request with Yang for deep background checks on all of the pilots in his squadron. He understood the need for a thorough investigation, and the notion had also crossed his mind. Yet he didn’t want someone like Stanton running the checks, someone who didn’t know or care about the squad.