Shiver

he was inside an airplane. A small plane outfitted with maybe sixseats, up toward the front, which he could only see if he lifted up his head. He and the stretcher were in the small cargo area in the back. A curtain separated the two areas, but it was only partially drawn. The plane was probably designed for patient transport, which would account for facilities to accommodate and secure a gurney.
    “I’ll be in touch.” That was how Crittenden left it as he started walking toward the door. Danny didn’t have a chance to reply.
    “All squared away in back,” Crittenden said to the scrubs-clad medic who stepped through the door just as he reached it. The medic didn’t even seem surprised to see him. He just nodded and walked toward Danny as Crittenden exited the plane.
    “Glad to see you’re awake.” When he was near the end of the gurney, the medic apparently saw Danny looking at him. “Sorry to leave you, but I had to take an emergency call. Hennessey get you all bolted down?”
    Danny assumed that Hennessey was Crittenden, and by all bolted down, the medic was referring to the stretcher.
    “Good to go.” Danny gave the medic a thumb’s-up. The guy checked his IV, which, Danny saw to his regret, was getting down to about a quarter full. Then Danny’s attention was grabbed by the arrival of Sam, who stepped through the door with Tyler in her arms. The kid wasn’t all that big, but he was big enough so that his feet dangled down almost to Sam’s knees. She was a slender girl, and he looked way too heavy for her, but she was managing. His head was on Sam’s shoulder, and it was obvious from his posture that he was sound asleep. Enteringthe small cabin, Sam seemed hesitant, but as she cast a swift look around the plane’s interior and saw him he thought she relaxed just a little. He knew how she felt: he was relieved to see her and the kid, too. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized just how worried he had been that she might not appear. Not that he didn’t trust Sanders, or Crittenden—okay, truth was that he didn’t trust them. Not either of them, not fully, not where Sam was concerned. Because they were both the same kind of by-the-book, the-mission’s-the-thing operatives. If either of them thought having Sam and Tyler on board interfered with the job they had been entrusted with, then they would be looking to lose Sam and Tyler as fast as possible, with very little concern about how it impacted Sam and her son.
    But here Sam was, her face pale and drawn with exhaustion, her hair having been reconfined into a haphazard ponytail that hung down her back in an unruly black mass, her white tank top and jeans stained with his blood, and still, as Crittenden had pointed out, looking hot. He gave her a brief wave, to which she responded with narrowed eyes and a grimace. Not exactly heartwarming, but at least she and the kid were there. Behind them came Sanders, with Groves, Abramowitz, and O’Brien. They looked tired, too, but Danny didn’t care. A guy in a uniform brought up the rear, closing the door behind them. The pilot, or pilots, must have already been in the cockpit, because as soon as the door shut the engines started to rev. Everybody—everybody except him—sat down and strapped in. The medic pulled down a jump seat from the wall near Danny’s head and strapped into that. Seconds later the plane was moving down therunway, gathering speed. Then it took off, rising gracefully in a steep ascension that would have sent him rolling if the stretcher hadn’t been fastened properly to the floor, which led Danny to conclude with grudging admiration that Crittenden was a man of unsuspected talents. Moments later, they were winging their way to God knew where.
    Nobody came to talk to him, and the movement coupled with the droning of the engines was soporific. Danny didn’t even realize that he had fallen asleep again until he woke up. The plane was just touching down, bouncing along the runway, jarring him into wakefulness. By the time it taxied to a stop, he was definitely aware that his leg was still far from 100 percent. His other injuries were making themselves felt, too. Oh, not in any way that was too acutely painful, but insistently enough so that he didn’t have to look at the IV bag to realize that whatever wonder drug they’d been pumping into him had run out.
    Shit.
    A quick glance confirmed that Sam—and presumably Tyler, although he couldn’t see the kid—was still with him.