Page 21 of Witness Security Breach

“We’ve got to get her to a hospital or she’s as good as dead,” Aiden said.

He swore under his breath as they lifted Sharon up and carried her to the squad car.

“I think the closest hospital is off I-8,” Charlie said. “Maybe ten minutes away.”

That was the nearest hospital, but Aiden recalled seeing a smaller medical center on the map when they were going to get Sharon.

“There’s one closer.” Possibly five minutes. He hoped not any longer than that.

Gently, they got Sharon into the back of the vehicle.

Aiden took off south down Mission Gorge Road. Prayed his memory didn’t fail him and he could navigate them there.

Charlie tore the sleeve from Sharon’s blouse. Applied direct pressure on the artery.

“Tourniquet,” Aiden said.

She nodded. “Okay. Yeah.” Charlie took the scarf tied around Sharon’s neck and wrapped it above the injury.

Good choice of material. For some reason on TV shows and in movies, people always used a belt. But a belt was too rigid, and you’d never get it tight enough to stop the arterial flow in the real world.

“I need a windlass.”

A tourniquet without a windlass was a constricting band at best. Anything from a chopstick to a pocketknife could be used. Aiden pulled a carabiner from his utility belt and handed it to her.

Charlie worked deftly. She held the tourniquet tight and kept up the pressure on the wound. “She’s so pale. Hurry, Aiden.”

He was going as fast as possible, taking bends in the road harder than he should.

“They didn’t have to do this to her,” Charlie said, her voice low.

No, they didn’t, but it had worked. They’d known marshals would never abandon a wounded innocent. Aiden clenched his jaw and swallowed back the surge of white-hot anger.

They had to be close to the medical center. Sharon’s life was literally draining away with each passing minute.

There. Set back off the main road about where he remembered from the map.

He saw a sign for the medical center that he’d overlooked before and took the turn. Followed the road and raced up to the emergency entrance, stopping in the ambulance parking area by a separate door.

Aiden flew out of the car and inside, grabbing the first attendants he spotted. “Help! There’s a woman bleeding out. Cut to her femoral artery.”

The orderlies got a stretcher and ran outside. Aiden helped them load her onto the gurney.

So much blood.

Charlie stayed at Sharon’s side, going with them. Aiden killed the siren, lights and engine, and he sprinted to catch up to them.

By the time he did, after passing the treatment bay with curtains, Sharon was in a room for severe cases. A doctor and nurses swarmed around her, every medical person taking a specific action, each knowing exactly what job to do.

It reminded Aiden of the team that had attacked them. Precise. Prepared. Executed with ruthless efficiency.

“Excuse me,” a nurse said to them. “We’re going to need you to step out of the room.” She ushered them into the hall and to the nurses’ desk. “I need you to fill out some forms.” The nurse reached behind the desk and proffered a clipboard.

Charlie looked down at the blood covering her hands and ballistic vest. The nurse directed her to the bathroom.

Aiden took the clipboard with a heavy heart.

“Also, her next of kin should be called,” the nurse said.