Chapter 7 - THE BULLET WAS MEANT FOR ME
Luca escaped by air.
Mira escaped by road.
The twelve captives did not.
That mattered.
For the first time since the conspiracy began, we had victims who could speak.
And what they told us was worse than anyone expected.
The network had been operating before the earthquake.
Disasters simply made it easier.
Displaced children.
Separated families.
Broken records.
Destroyed roads.
Confusion.
A perfect hunting ground.
The stolen medicine funded part of the operation.
The humanitarian trucks moved the rest.
I sat outside the treatment tent listening to a fourteen-year-old girl explain how a woman in a relief vest promised to reunite her with her aunt.
Mira.
The girl had climbed willingly into the truck.
That fact haunted me.
Raphael was inside having a bullet removed from his shoulder.
Again.
Because of me.
Mercer sat beside me.
“You’re doing the thing.”
“What thing?”
“Blaming yourself.”
“I was the target.”
“Correct.”
“He moved.”
“Yes.”
“So if I hadn't—”
Mercer turned toward me.
“If you finish that sentence, I will throw your coffee away.”
I looked at the cup.
“You wouldn't.”
“Try me.”
I sighed.
“He knew Luca would shoot.”
“No. He saw a gun.”
“He pushed me.”
“That is generally how bodyguards work.”
“He’s not my bodyguard.”
Mercer raised an eyebrow.
“Tell him that.”
I hated that he had a point.
The surgery took forty minutes.
When Raphael woke, I was there.
He opened one eye.
“Again?”
“You keep getting injured in my vicinity.”
“Correlation.”
“Maybe stop testing causation.”
He smiled weakly.
Then his expression changed.
“The children?”
“Safe.”
His shoulders relaxed.
“Luca?”
“Gone.”
“Mira?”
“Gone.”
The relaxation disappeared.
“We’ll find them.”
“You are going to recover.”
“That wasn't the agreement.”
“There was no agreement.”
“There is now.”
I checked the dressing.
“Your shoulder will heal. Your chest is improving.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I might sedate you.”
“You threaten me often.”
“You make it necessary.”
His hand closed gently around my wrist.
Not controlling.
Just there.
I looked down.
He released me immediately.
“Sorry.”
“You apologize more lately.”
“You disapprove less violently when I do.”
That was almost true.
Then Dante Rios entered.
Raphael’s security chief had been quiet since the warehouse.
Too quiet.
He placed a phone beside Raphael.
“We traced Luca’s flight.”
“Where?”
“India.”
“And Mira?”
“No trace.”
Dante looked at me.
“Major, your command wants you back at the main medical base.”
“Why?”
His expression told me before he answered.
“The missing narcotics.”
“What missing narcotics?”
Raphael looked at him sharply.
Dante continued.
“A controlled medication inventory at your field hospital is short.”
My stomach dropped.
“How much?”
“Enough to trigger an investigation.”
“That has nothing to do with me.”
Dante hesitated.
“There’s video.”
I laughed.
“Of what?”
“You entering the supply tent after midnight.”
“I enter the supply tent every shift.”
“With a duffel bag.”
I stared at him.
“My trauma kit.”
Mercer appeared behind Dante.
His face was grim.
“They found six morphine vials in your locker.”
I stopped breathing.
Raphael sat upright too quickly.
Pain flashed across his face.
“That is impossible.”
Mercer looked at him.
“You don't get a vote.”
“I was with her.”
“When?”
Raphael paused.
So did I.
The missing narcotics had supposedly disappeared during the period I treated Anil.
Raphael had been present for part of it.
Not all.
“This is a setup,” he said.
Mercer nodded.
“Probably.”
I looked at him.
“Probably?”
“Chain of custody matters.”
“You believe I stole morphine?”
“No.”
“Then—”
“My belief is irrelevant.”
There it was.
Military procedure.
Clean.
Necessary.
Terrifying.
I was temporarily removed from patient care.
My locker was sealed.
My credentials collected pending investigation.
Pike would not meet my eyes when he handed over the order.
“I’m sorry.”
“You think I did it?”
“No.”
“Then say it.”
He looked directly at me.
“I do not believe you stole medication.”
“Thank you.”
“But someone wants the investigation to look real.”
That was worse.
Raphael stood outside the tent when I emerged.
His sling made him look almost human.
Almost.
“I have a car waiting.”
“No.”
“Tessa.”
“I am not disappearing into one of your compounds while under investigation.”
“You are also under threat.”
“Then I’ll stay on base.”
“Whoever planted drugs in your locker had access to the base.”
That stopped me.
Mercer heard it too.
Raphael continued.
“They are not trying to punish you.”
“What are they trying to do?”
“Discredit the witness who found the missing medical supplies.”
I felt cold.
Raphael stepped closer.
“If you are labeled a thief, every observation you made becomes questionable.”
Pike emerged behind us.
“He's right.”
I hated that everyone was right.
Then Pike handed me a sealed envelope.
“This came for you.”
No return name.
Inside was a photograph.
Me.
Leaving the warehouse.
Taken from a distance.
On the back, one sentence:
NEXT TIME HE WON’T MOVE FAST ENOUGH.
I looked toward Raphael.
His face became utterly still.
Mercer read the message.
“We’re relocating you.”
I started to object.
He cut me off.
“That was not a suggestion.”
Raphael almost smiled.
I pointed at him.
“Don't.”
For the first time in days, I had no choice.
That night, I was driven away from the relief base under blackout conditions.
Not as a nurse.
Not as an officer.
As a target.
May you like
And when the armored gate closed behind me, I realized I had entered the one place I had spent the entire mission trying to avoid.
Raphael Veseri’s protection.
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