Webb had estimated the time to the cabin accurately. In the forty-five
minutes it took them to reach the remote, 'fortified' cabin, Webb had
drifted in and out of consciousness. Favoring his right side, the agent
had leaned his body left, away from the hardness of the door, eventually
resting his head up against Rabb's shoulder.
Rabb pulled the car to a stop. Webb seemed to stir slightly at the sudden lack of movement, but he made no effort to raise himself from the JAG man's shoulder. His body seemed terribly twisted in the seat, Rabb thought, though the alternative of Webb's shoulder up against the rocking of the car door would certainly have been worse.
"Clay?" Rabb offered quietly.
Webb stirred a little more, finally realizing the uncomfortable position he was in, both figuratively and literally.
"Oh, man," he said as he wakened more. "Sorry, Rabb," he started, and then a cough overtook him. Webb leaned heavier into Rabb, unable to gain any purchase due to the increased pain and unexpected dizziness the coughing had brought on.
"Stay where you are," Rabb directed as he eased the operative off his shoulder. "I'll come around and get you." Webb remained silent, save the heavy breathing he was now managing as his head hung listlessly to his chest.
With great effort on Rabb's part, and more pain for Webb, they were able to make their way into the cabin.
Rabb found a light switch over the half wall between the kitchen and the dining area. He flipped it on, and light was shed over both areas by the fluorescent bulb in the kitchen. Rabb was sorry to see the inside of the place lacking in the rustic charm that the outside had hinted.
It mattered little. This would be no enjoyable stay at a cabin in the country.
Rabb had placed Webb on the sofa, helping the agent to lie back against several pillows. He put two more pillows under Webb's legs, and threw the afghan that lay on the back of the couch over his now alternately chilled and fevered cohort.
Webb opened his eyes and noticed Rabb looking about the cabin, trying to decide what to do next.
"Rabb," he called weakly, eliciting another series of coughs. Though the entreaty was quiet, it was plenty loud to gain Rabb's attention, though the renewed coughing had done the trick in that regard.
"Yeah, Clay?" he asked, moving to sit on the coffee table in front of the agent. Rabb was glad to see Webb relatively alert. He hoped that maybe the injury wasn't as bad as it seemed.
"There should be a CB radio.somewhere. It'll be set to contact our, uh, hosts." Webb grimaced, the waves of pain almost constant now. "They'll send a medic."
"You mean an ambulance," Rabb started.
"I mean they'll send someone who.ah.who can help.won't ask questions."
"You need."
"Just make the call, Harm. Please?"
"Fine. But you owe me an explanation for all of this." Rabb's patience was wearing thin as he continued to know so little about this operation - except that it had almost killed Clayton Webb. And that it still might.
Rabb pulled the car to a stop. Webb seemed to stir slightly at the sudden lack of movement, but he made no effort to raise himself from the JAG man's shoulder. His body seemed terribly twisted in the seat, Rabb thought, though the alternative of Webb's shoulder up against the rocking of the car door would certainly have been worse.
"Clay?" Rabb offered quietly.
Webb stirred a little more, finally realizing the uncomfortable position he was in, both figuratively and literally.
"Oh, man," he said as he wakened more. "Sorry, Rabb," he started, and then a cough overtook him. Webb leaned heavier into Rabb, unable to gain any purchase due to the increased pain and unexpected dizziness the coughing had brought on.
"Stay where you are," Rabb directed as he eased the operative off his shoulder. "I'll come around and get you." Webb remained silent, save the heavy breathing he was now managing as his head hung listlessly to his chest.
With great effort on Rabb's part, and more pain for Webb, they were able to make their way into the cabin.
Rabb found a light switch over the half wall between the kitchen and the dining area. He flipped it on, and light was shed over both areas by the fluorescent bulb in the kitchen. Rabb was sorry to see the inside of the place lacking in the rustic charm that the outside had hinted.
It mattered little. This would be no enjoyable stay at a cabin in the country.
Rabb had placed Webb on the sofa, helping the agent to lie back against several pillows. He put two more pillows under Webb's legs, and threw the afghan that lay on the back of the couch over his now alternately chilled and fevered cohort.
Webb opened his eyes and noticed Rabb looking about the cabin, trying to decide what to do next.
"Rabb," he called weakly, eliciting another series of coughs. Though the entreaty was quiet, it was plenty loud to gain Rabb's attention, though the renewed coughing had done the trick in that regard.
"Yeah, Clay?" he asked, moving to sit on the coffee table in front of the agent. Rabb was glad to see Webb relatively alert. He hoped that maybe the injury wasn't as bad as it seemed.
"There should be a CB radio.somewhere. It'll be set to contact our, uh, hosts." Webb grimaced, the waves of pain almost constant now. "They'll send a medic."
"You mean an ambulance," Rabb started.
"I mean they'll send someone who.ah.who can help.won't ask questions."
"You need."
"Just make the call, Harm. Please?"
"Fine. But you owe me an explanation for all of this." Rabb's patience was wearing thin as he continued to know so little about this operation - except that it had almost killed Clayton Webb. And that it still might.