wrist has been set. He’s got three broken ribs on his right side as well as a lengthy gash to the right of his navel. He’s also got a deep wound to the right calf and left

arm, all three wounds have been stitched. His neck, wrists, and ankles also sustained damage from the manacles.”

 

“What aren’t you telling me, Nathan?” Tanner asked as the man finished listing the injuries.

 

“I told you everything, Vin.”

 

“No you haven’t. I can see it in your eyes,” Tanner told him.

 

“You’d better tell him, Nathan,” Wilmington ordered softly.

 

“He’s on a ventilator and they’re keeping him sedated.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Vin, you know what Whelan did to him. Chris is dehydrated, malnourished, and exhausted. Dr. Midland and Dr. Parker are both worried about level of kidney

function due to the massive muscle damage. His hands are swollen and they’re worried about whether he’ll regain the use of them. His fingers are also swollen and in

danger of becoming infected,” Jackson explained.

 

Tanner’s eyes filled with unshed tears for his best friend. He cursed Gary Wilcox for the pain and torment he’d caused Chris Larabee. He knew if he had the time

back he’d have taken the man’s life. He regretted listening to his friends when they’d told him it was the wrong thing to do.

 

Tanner stared at the two men in the room with him. Finally he was able to control the anger he felt and he spoke softly. “I wanna see him, Nathan.”

 

“Not right now, Vin,” Wilmington said. “You’re in no shape to be up and around yet. Dr. Midland and Dr. Marshall will be here soon and you can ask them about

seeing Chris.”

 

“How long since we were brought in?”

 

“Almost twenty four hours,” Jackson answered.

 

“Morning, Vin,” Stacey Midland said as she followed David Marshall into the room. “How are you feeling?”

 

“I wanna see Chris,” Tanner told her.

 

“Now how did I know you were going to say that?” Midland laughed.

 

“Can I see him?”

 

“Not today, Vin. I’m afraid you both need to rest.”

 

“Please,” Tanner begged, grimacing in pain as he tried to sit up.

 

“I think it’s time for your meds, Vin,” Marshall informed his patient as he finished his examination. 

 

“Got it right here,” Midland said as she delivered the pain medication into the young man’s IV line.

 

Marshall turned and headed for the door, calling over his shoulder as he left. “I’ve got a couple of other patients to see but I’ll check in on him later, Stacey.”

 

“Ok, David,” Midland said as she watched her patient’s eyes close.

 

“C...Chris,” Tanner whispered as he felt the warmth of the medication lulling him to sleep.

 

“He should sleep for awhile now,” Midland told Wilmington and Jackson. “Why don’t you two go home and get some rest?”

 

“How’s Chris doing?” Wilmington asked.

 

“There’s no change, Buck,” Midland told him. “He’s still critical.”

 

“How long are you going to keep him sedated?”

 

“Well, Nathan, we’ll keep him sedated for a couple of days then see how he’s doing. You both know what’s going on with him. The injuries and the convulsions he’s

having are taking a toll on his body,” Midland explained.

 

“Any change in his kidney function?”

 

Midland shook her head as she made eye contact with the medic. “No change, Nathan, his urine output is still dangerously low and his creatinine level is higher than

we’d like.”

 

“What does that mean?” Wilmington asked worriedly.

 

“It means his kidneys aren’t functioning properly right now. If things continue the way they are we may have to resort to dialysis, but that decision will be made by

Nephrology. I’ve arranged for a consult with them this evening. We’ve started an IV with sodium Bicarbonate to help protect his kidneys.” Midland explained.

 

“How long before you know?” Jackson asked.

 

“If things don’t begin to improve in the next twenty four hours we’re going to have to intervene,” she informed the worried men.

 

“Whelan died too fuckin’ easily,” Wilmington swore angrily as he walked to the window and let the tears fall from his eyes.

 

Chapter 32

 

Josiah stood over the bed, his hands resting on the forehead of his friend. His eyes filled with unshed tears as he looked at the machines keeping the blond alive.

 

A ventilator was breathing for the younger man, the sound strange to the ex preacher’s ears. He recognised the NG tube that ran into Larabee’s left nostril down into

his stomach. A foley catheter was also in evidence along with the regular IV and there was a central line leading into the patient’s jugular, used to deliver meds as

needed. He watched as the monitors continued to record the data sent to them from the leads attached to the patient’s body.

 

Josiah hated seeing the white swatch of bandages covering the wounds on his body. Both hands looked like grotesque caricatures of baseball mitts, because of the

thick covering of gauze protecting them from infection. White bandages were also evident on his neck, arm, side, knee and leg.

 

He knew what most of the IVs were for, but it still angered him to see them on Chris Larabee all because of a man’s unjustified need for vengeance. “Too many

times, Chris, too many times.”

 

“Did you say something, Mr. Sanchez?”

 

“Sorry, Kristy, I was just thinking out loud. Thinking about how many times one of us has been in here over the past few years,” Sanchez told her, his voice soft and

worried.

 

“You gentlemen certainly are no strangers to the ICU, Mr. Sanchez,” Kristy smiled as she tried to lighten the man’s somber mood. “Actually the board of directors is

debating about whether or not to hire you guys as consultants when they purchase new equipment.”

 

Josiah couldn’t help but smile. Kristy was one of the nurses who’d treated them over the years and he knew she was trying to get his mind off the man on the bed.

“That’s closer to the truth than you think, Kristy. I could probably tell you what every tube and IV line is for,” Sanchez told her sadly.

 

“Hmm, maybe we should hire you guys ourselves. That way we can take vacations when we really want to,” Kristy grinned as she checked the overhead monitors.

 

Josiah watched the nurse and finally had to laugh. “I’d say we’d be just as bad as Nurses as we are as patients.”

 

“Then maybe I should rethink that,” she told him.

 

“That would probably be a wise idea,” Sanchez joked as he touched his friend’s pale forehead. Closing his eyes he prayed that the younger man would make it

through and that the road back would not be as long or as hard as it looked to be.

 

“Are you alright, Mr. Sanchez?”

 

Josiah shook his head as silent tears formed in his eyes, “I’m fine, Kristy. I just wonder why God saw fit to test Brother Chris once again.”

 

“The good Lord has plans for us all, Mr. Sanchez. I’m sure there’s a reason for what happened to Mr. Larabee.”

 

“Sometimes I wish he’d tell us what the reason is instead of giving us trials that are hard to overcome,” Sanchez looked down at the battered body of his friend,

wiping away the moisture that threatened to fall from his eyes. “This is one trial that you won’t have to win by yourself, Brother Chris, we’ll be here to help you

through every step,” he rubbed his temples in an effort to stem the mounting pain behind his tired eyes.

 

“Why don’t you go get some rest? Mr. Larabee will be well cared for while you’re gone,” Kristy suggested.

 

Josiah Sanchez nodded his head and slowly walked out of the room, turning his head one last time to look at his friend, ‘Please, God, Chris Larabee is still needed

here. Don’t take him from us,’ he silently pleaded as he walked away.

 

Chapter 33

 

Nathan sat with Vin waiting for the younger man to come fully awake. David Marshall and Stacey Midland had checked him over earlier and both were amazed at

the progress the sharpshooter continued to make. It was now thirty hours since they’d found and rescued Chris Larabee and none of the five uninjured agents had

slept much. Nerves and tempers were running hot as they waited for word on their leaders condition.

 

Jackson looked up from the book on psychology he’d been reading as the door opened and Ezra Standish walked in.

 

“How does Mr. Tanner fare?”

 

“He’s doing better and Dr. Marshall is going to release him to a regular room in the morning.”

 

“Does Mr. Tanner know?”

 

“Not yet. He was sleeping when they were here but it looks like he’s coming round. Where are the others?”

 

“Mr. Wilmington has taken up residence with Mr. Larabee. Mr. Sanchez and Mr. Dunne are in the Chapel. I though I’d see if you would like to take a break.”

 

“Thanks, Ezra, I’d like to stretch my legs for awhile.”

 

“Is there any word on Mr. Larabee?” Standish asked before Jackson left.

 

“He’s still critical and they’re continuing to keep him sedated,” Jackson answered solemnly.

 

“What about the Dialysis?”

 

“Not yet. They’ll try to avoid Dialysis but they’ll be monitoring him so all we can do is wait.”

 

Standish sat in the chair vacated by Jackson. “Maybe Mr. Sanchez’s prayers will do some good.”

 

“Prayers never hurt anyone.”