When Hondo returned to the hospital on Sunday evening, he was welcomed by an unusual picture in the hallway outside Christina's room. Next to the cop from Harbor Community Division, several men in beige camouflage camped on backpacks that looked battered and dusty. They had to be Sean Brown's teammates, because, as customary with special forces, they wore neither name tags nor badges on their uniforms.
Hondo stopped in the middle of the hallway, hesitated for a moment - and left. Just as he unlocked the door at home, his phone went off. The caller ID showed Phillip Santiago. He went in, then answered the call.
"Hi Phillip."
"Hey Hondo. Aren't you coming tonight?"
"I was there, but it was a little crowded. Sean and his team have arrived, haven't they?"
"Yes. They were sent straight to LA from Norfolk on an extra plane. Sean is with Christina now. She is awake to some extent, even still very weak."
"That sounds good. Then he came just in time."
"He did," Phillip confirmed. "But you should have made yourself noticed. Sean wants to thank you."
"He doesn't have to. I was just doing my job."
Phillip snorted. "You did a lot more, and you know that, too. We'll talk about that later. And I'm supposed to send you a message from my boss."
"Yes?"
"If you or someone on your team ever needs our help, you should contact him. I'll send you the number. But what you've been doing here the last few days was anything but natural."
"But that's really not necessary. Take care."
"Thank you. And we hear from each other, "Phillip explained, then the connection broke.
Shaking his head, Hondo put his phone in the charging cradle and went to the fridge in search of dinner.
The next morning Chris came to him. "Do you have a moment?"
He gave her an examining look, then nodded. She looked around, then led the way into an open conference room.
"Are you okay?" He asked her when she closed the door.
"I was just about to ask you that, boss. I heard you yell at MacMillan in the parking lot for parking four inches too far to the left. And earlier to Tan in the kitchen, although he gave you the coffee and then made a new one for himself. Strangely, you look more rested than in the last few days, but your mood is absolutely below anything. I don't mean to offend you, but you don't seem like you should be in contact with civilians. Can I help you?"
"The fact that I look more rested may be because I spent the last night at home and not on a chair at Cedars."
Chris looked at him in surprise and horror. "Is Christina ...?"
"No. She is easily on the mend. Her husband and his team arrived yesterday, so I drove straight back home. "
"OK. Then you slept in your own bed. But that doesn't explain your bad mood." She looked at him briefly. "Hondo, you don't seriously ... A crime victim, a married woman ..."
He winced. "No. No Chris, I did not fall in love with the victim. There's a connection, I don't know why, but not that type of connection. She is a fighter. I am sure she and her husband will make it. When we got into the room ... " Hondo paused, then changed the subject. "I'll try to pull myself together. OK?"
"Mmm. If you want to talk, I'm there. We all are."
"Thank you."
Their cell phones prevented the conversation from becoming even more embarrassing, the alarm called them to an emergency call.
In the next few days he didn't hear from Phillip, except for the message with the phone number of his boss, then everyday life caught up with him. The attack on the Love-all parade and concern for Deac demanded his full attention, then Darryl moved in with him ... and time passed.