THE PERFECT TEN (Boxed Set)

some vampiric power left, because his speed was there. The startled pilot’s curse was cut off as Delano struck his windpipe with the side of his right hand. The other man dropped his rifle and clutched his throat. Delano grabbed him. Using the pilot as a shield, he raced back to the door in a blur of speed. Yanking the door open, he hurled himself and his burden down the first flight of stairs, and not a second too soon. A hail of bullets struck the door, entering the vestibule and ricocheting dangerously. Dragging the dead weight of the now unconscious pilot, he plunged down the next flight, nearly plowing into Eli, who was on his way up.
    “Get down! Ricochets!”
    Eli crouched but didn’t retreat. Rather, he slid a shoulder under the pilot’s free arm to help Delano evacuate him. When they reached the next landing, the shooting, thank God, had stopped. Two soldiers reached for the pilot. Ribs screaming from the impact with the concrete floor, Delano was only too happy to pass off the burden.
    “Get him inside. He needs attention.”
    Eli turned worried eyes on Delano. “What about you? Are you hit?”
    “No.” But dammit, he almost wished he was. How was he going to explain this goatfuck to Ainsley? Janecek would be livid, and the hostages… Dammit. He cleared his throat. “Did you get a sit rep?”
    “Yeah. And Ainsley will have heard it, too. I left her a radio.”
    I’m sorry, Ainsley . “Have you got a medical kit at the ready down there?”
    “Always.”
    “Then let’s get a move on. I think I might have hit our prisoner a little harder than was strictly necessary.”
    When they reached the penthouse, they found the unconscious pilot stretched out on the carpet, with Ainsley kneeling at his side.
    Her eyes flew to Delano’s. “Bartlett? Did he … I mean, is he…?”
    Delano shook his head grimly. “That was a hell of a barrage. Even if he survived it, there’s no way to get to him.”
    “And Lucy and Devon?”
    His throat ached. “I don’t know.”
    Her eyes filled with tears.
    I’m so sorry, Ainsley .
    He knelt opposite her, forcing his attention to the patient. “Did he take any bullets?”
    She cleared her throat. “Not that I could see. I gather from the radio report that you struck him?”
    “Neck area.” Delano palpated the patient’s throat, and swore at the crackling sensation beneath his bare fingers. Damn. The man was a goner without a tracheostomy. He sat back on his heels. “Subcutaneous emphysema.”
    Eli joined them, medical kit in hand. “Good thing I’ve got a trach kit in here. You want to do the honors, or shall I?”
    “You’d better do it.” He moved back to make room for Eli. “You don’t want to know what equipment I employed the last time I did an emergency tracheostomy. But I’ll assist.” He moved around to the pilot’s right, intending to relieve Ainsley, but she waved him off.
    “I’ve got it covered.”
    Delano blinked. Tears still shone in her eyes, but her demeanor was completely composed. Her trauma room training, he realized. It was probably all that was holding her together. Deciding the best way to help her was to keep her busy, he backed off.
    Ainsley, her hands already gloved, dug a Betadine swabstick out of the kit and swabbed the patient’s throat below the Adam’s apple. Eli tugged on surgical gloves and quickly laid out his supplies on a sterile pad. Feeling redundant, Delano watched as Eli and Ainsley worked quickly and calmly to expose two cartilage rings, incise them and install the tracheostomy tube.
    A moment later, Eli leaned back on his heels. “Airway restored.” Peeling off the surgical gloves, he nodded to the two men who’d carried the pilot downstairs. “He’ll be coming around any minute now. Put him in my room and shackle him to the bed. Search him. Oh, and take his clothes and give him this to wear.” He tossed one of the men a hospital-issue Johnny shirt. “That oughta keep him humble.”
    “He won’t be able to talk,” Delano added. “Tell him the tracheostomy is reversible, and that we’ll be in to discuss it when our situation is resolved.”
    As the men moved in to pick up the patient, Eli turned to Delano. “You sure you’re all right, boss? You hit the deck pretty hard.”
    “I’m fine.” He waved off Eli’s question, even though the dive onto the concrete had almost certainly cracked a rib or two, not to mention the scrapes and bruises. “I wish I could say the same for our sniper.