Chapter Three
Disclaimer 2: I have no knowledge of the finale except that Woody gets shot and begins to re-evaluate his life and Jordan has to revive him. This is how I see it played out, but again, I have no special foreknowledge at this time.
They expected casualties. The police weren't sure how many, but Jordan and Nigel had been called in to go with the Boston PD to the scene of the sniper…a sniper that had a penchant for picking off cops.
Nigel glanced over at Jordan, who was hunkered down with him behind a police car, waiting…she was biting her lip and only had eyes for Woody. He was in charge of this taking down the sniper. Nigel knew the detective had focused solely on this case for days…Nigel had been making the field calls as one by one the bodies of Boston's finest made their way into the morgue. Jordan had done more than her fair share of autopsies on them.
And Nigel had watched his friend fall apart little by little. She had never said what was on her mind, but he figured that it was a mixture of thoughts about her father, an ex-cop that had disappeared from her life, and Woody. Each time shehad possession ofa body bag, he had heard her hold her breath until she unzipped it and discovered it wasn't the detective. "This is my worst nightmare, Nige," she had said. "That I could open one of these things and he could be inside. I don't think I could handle it….I don't think I could go on." She had slid her mask off and slumped against the wall. "I mean, it's bad enough that he doesn't want to even talk to me now…but to know that something could happen to him before I could try to make things right between us…that he could possible die without knowing how I really felt…" her voice had trailed off and she shut her eyes.
"He hasn't talked to you at all?" Nigel asked gently.
"No…at least nothing outside morgue business."
Nigel sighed and hugged her. "He'll come around, love. You know he will. He loves you… you love him….it's meant to be. As Lily would say, it's karma…the stars…the planets…."
Jordan gave him a wan smile. "I don't know, Nige. The man seems to have made up his mind about me. He's finished chasing a relationship that he believes would never go anywhere and one that I now want more than anything."
Nigel knew all these thoughts were probably running through Jordan's head in rapid-fire fast motion right now. But it should be over soon. Nigel heard Woody give the command to get ready.
Then a shot rang out from the sniper. Close and near deadly. He heard Woody go "Ooomph," and saw him slump to the ground.
And all hell broke loose in Boston.
Another policeman gave the order to fire. Between bullets and shouting, Nigel could see Jordan fighting off the police who were trying to keep her behind the car...tshe was trying desperatelyto get to Woody.
It was playing out in slow motion to Jordan. She heard him groan and saw him hit the pavement. At first, she thought it was just the impact of the bullet against the Kevlar vest. Even though the vest is bullet proof, the projectile can pack a wallop and knock even the most seasoned police officer to his knees.
Then she saw the blood. Shit…the sniper's got armor-piercing ammunition, she thought as she struggled to get to him….and nearly panicked.
It's amazing how the mind works. Here was the man she loved, laying there, bleeding. She couldn't get a pulse. In med school, the doctors had always taught the residentsthat if anything like this happened to one oftheir loved ones while they were with them, their training would kick in and they would be able tohandle the situation.
She had never believed it until now. She deftly cut the vest from his body and began CPR, compressing his chest and beginning mouth-to-mouth without waiting for a face shield, keeping it up until she felt a pulse. It was faint…weak….it fluttered and then steadied out. By the time the paramedics arrived and Nigel tugged her away, he was unconscious but breathing on his own.
Then reality sat in for her. Woody had quit breathing. He had nearly left her for good…never to return. When Nigel had lifted her away from Woody so that the detective could be loaded into the ambulance and taken to Boston General, she slumped in her friend's arms…suddenly her legs wouldn't work at all. She held on to Nigel as the paramedics administered oxygen and finished stabilizing him.
"How's he doing?" she finally asked, from the security of Nigel's arms.
"He's holding his own. He's going to be fine…thanks to you. You saved his life."
Jordan shut her eyes and leaned into Nigel, thanking God for the first miracle in her life in a long time.
He never remembered the ride to the hospital. He didn't remember much for several days. When he finally came to for a little while, all he could feel was the edge of drugged-numbed pain…a faint, light-headed state of being that made him wonder if his brain was still functioning normally. "What happened?" he asked a nurse.
"You were shot…in the line of duty, Detective Hoyt." The pretty, blonde nurse smiled at him.
"Where at?"
"What do you remember?"
Woody closed his eyes and then opened them wide…trying to focus. Shifting around in the hospital bed and moaning a little at the effort, he said, "I remember going to work…and finding out where the sniper was…taking my officers and going there…" He shut his eyes again…trying to remember…trying to see in his mind how the take down had played out, his forehead wrinkling at the effort. "Nothing else," he finally said, blowing out a sigh with the words.
The nurse, a middle-aged woman named Susan, picked up where his memories were fuzzy. "You gave the order to fire," she said softly, "but the sniper beat you to it. He took a shot at you…and he had armor piercing bullets. You took one to the abdomen."
"Then why is my chest so sore?"
Susan smiled gently at him. "The person that reached you first…after you were shot…had to give you CPR."
"CPR?"
"Yes. You weren't breathing."
The shock of the revelation began to sting its way through Woody's system as Susan continued to take his vitals and administer drugs through his IV hook ups.
"Who was it?" he asked suddenly.
"Who was who?"
"The person that did the CPR…do you know?"
"I don't know her name, but she has long, brown hair and beautiful, brown eyes. Slender. She's been here every evening waiting for you to wake up. She asked me to call her when you did. I better go do that now. You must be very special to her." Susan made to leave Woody's room.
"Susan? Please don't….don't call her."
"Why?"
He had to think fast. "I want to surprise her when she comes here tonight….so….please…don't call her or let her know that I've regained consciousness."
Susan nodded. "Sure. I'm sure she'll be very surprised. She's stayed with you nearly all night every night since you came in…never taking a break. Holding your hand…talking to you…praying for you…I bet she's said enough rosaries to send a dozen people to heaven."
Woody nodded and swallowed hard. Jordan had saved his life. Kept vigil at the hospital. And had prayed for him.
What was that supposed to mean?
