Page 85 of Trapped Truth

“Can I sit you up?” Hyland rumbles. “Here, we’ve got some water.”

“Just g-go slow.”

With surprising gentleness, I’m eased upright. His chest acts as a solid surface to support my spine. From this position, the scene around me settles further, unveiling several worried faces at once.

“Fuck me sideways, babe.” Axel shakes his head. “Scared the shit out of me.”

Forehead puckered, Warner’s face is starkly drawn. “You went down like a sack of bricks, Em. Why didn’t you tell us a seizure was coming on?”

“Hit s-so fast… I thought it was a h-headache.”

Kneeling next to him, Blaine passes over a half-full glass of water. It’s not the first time he’s seen me in this state, but even he seems shaken. Not to mention the concerned frowns of Hudson and Kade lingering in the periphery.

Accepting the glass, Hyland touches it to my lips. “Drink up.”

Cool liquid soothes the ache wrapped around my vocal cords. The drilling into my head continues, but at least the floating orbs have ceased.

“Do we need the medic in here?” Kade steps a little closer.

“Yes—”

I interrupt Hyland’s deep boom. “No.”

“Red…”

“They can’t help, I’m ok-kay.”

“Ember.” Hudson scrutinises me from his perch. “None of this can be classified as okay. You’re going to go to the medic to get checked over, even if it’s just for our peace of mind. No arguments.”

“Thank you,” Hyland snarks to himself.

Honestly, I’m too drained to argue with them.

“Can you carry her, Hy?” Warner straightens up, all business. “I’ll follow you to the med bay.”

“Yeah, I’ve got her. Lead the way.”

Vertigo almost threatens to pull me under again as I’m hoisted up in a bridal carry. When I cry in protest, both men pause. On the screens covering the meeting table, the raid is ongoing, with the Intelligence Department seemingly distracted by the chaos unfolding here.

Distantly, Archer’s voice crackles to life. “Come in, HQ. We have a situation here.”

“Dammit.” Kade strides over to the table. “I’m here, Falcon Team.”

“The plant manager has clammed up, but there’s a folder on his desk. Didn’t think much of it at first. Then we noticed it’s addressed to the Anaconda Team.”

A silent but deadly thunderclap of shock rattles over the entire room. I lift my head from Hyland’s shoulder, trying hard not to give in to a sudden rush of nausea.

“What?” Warner asks slowly.

Rubbing his mouth, Kade lowers into a seat. “Explain.”

“Uh, might be easier to show you. I’ll hold them up to Kyle’s body cam now.”

Not even Hyland needs prompting to inch closer to the laptop set up so we can all get a clear look. He’s tensed right up. On the array of screens, it’s dark at first. Then bright office lights are fired into action, unveiling Archer in his assault gear, using his teammate’s cam to clue us in.

“Come closer,” Archer murmurs. “Angle it over the paperwork.”

The feed shifts, bringing the top of a messy desk into view. Empty coffee cups, an overflowing ashtray, even discarded daily newspapers. This dude’s a slob. By comparison, the thin manilla folder seems out of place. It’s clean, crisp. New.