Chapter Twenty-Eight

I had been lost in my depressing thoughts and had stopped paying attention where we were driving. But when the Colonel pulled the car into a car park in front of a cemetery, I was focusing again. It was a military cemetery, and if I had to take a guess, I would bet my money that Orin Carr was buried here.

"Stay," the Colonel said, climbing out of the car and locking it. He walked around the car to the passenger side, unlocked the car again and yanked open my door. I had a hard time not to roll my eyes at his precaution. He motioned me with the gun to climb out of the car. I thought that it might be risky to openly point a gun at a woman in case other people were nearby, but as soon as I was out of the car, he put the gun into his jacket pocket, keeping it subtly aimed at me. There had been a good dozen other cars in the parking lot, but I couldn't see any other persons in the cemetery when we walked in. The cemetery was lying eerily abandoned in front of us, and the Colonel motioned me forward. We were heading towards the back of the cemetery, and every step was becoming more difficult. I was dragging my feet, and it seemed that my body tried to resist reaching our destination, hoping that the inevitable could be prevented that way.

"I still don't understand why you want to kill me," I said, starting a last attempt to gain some time. "Not that I would prefer that. But why don't you kill Ranger, since it's obviously him you want to get ultimately?"

"Ranger took the hand-picked unit of obedient highly skilled soldiers from me. He took away my tool of power and source of income. This unit had been the most important thing in my life. Now, I'm going to take away Ranger's most important thing in his life," he said matter-of-factly. "I had to wait a long time for this moment, because nothing had ever meant anything to Ranger. Except you."

"An eye for an eye," I said drily.

"Exactly."

"Lucky me," I said under my breath. But even though it was originally sarcastically, it did indeed make me lucky. I was the only thing in this world that Ranger deemed important, he loved me that much. And to be loved by someone that much, did make me very lucky, and I couldn't stop the small smile from spreading on my lips, despite the severity of my situation.

We had almost reached the end of the cemetery, when I finally spotted the small crowd of people that must belong to the cars I had seen in the parking lot. They were visiting a grave, mourning a deceased soldier. Two rows behind the grievers, Colonel Harris motioned me to turn right and step between the narrowly spaced graves. We walked down the line of graves, and I was reading the names on the simple, small tombstones. The seventeenth tombstone was our destination: Orin Carr.

We stopped in our tracks, and I looked at the Colonel. The group of people was slightly to our left, two rows behind us. They were very close, but for some reason I didn't feel safer by their presence. The Colonel had a mission, and he would follow through on it.

The time was up.

There was nothing more I could say or do to gain more time. I could read it in Colonel Harris' cold eyes. The same eyes that those poor babies must have seen shortly before their deaths.

"Why had you shot the babies?", I rushed out, needing to know before I met my own end.

"What?"

"Ranger told me about a mission they had in the Middle East somewhere. That they had cleared a building where supposedly terrorists were inside, but it had only been women and children. He said that there had been two babies. And when they contacted you to ask what they should do about the babies, you told them you would take care of them. But you shot them," I said, tears streaming down my face for those innocent babies that I hadn't even known.

"The job needed to be done," he said coldly, shrugging.

"But they were only babies. They were innocent. What could they have possibly done to deserve death?"

I could feel the hysteria rise inside me and I didn't know if it was about the unfairness of the babies' deaths, or the fear about my own pending end.

"It wasn't my job to question the order. It had also not been Ranger's job to question it. The client ordered it, and we delivered. End of story. You should rather be concerned about your own death, than the demises of some babies almost a decade ago," he said menacingly. "Do you have any last words?"

What did people usually say in such a situation?

I would like to tell Ranger how much I loved him, but this would make my demise unnecessary harder for him. I'd like to apologize to my mother that I had caused her so much grief over the years. I wanted to tell my parents and Grandma Mazur that I loved them. But I was certain that nothing I was going to say now would be relayed to any of them.

"Please leave my family alone," I said instead, hoping the Colonel would keep word and not harm them once I was dead.

"Silly girl," the Colonel laughed. "There is no one at your parents' house. Look down at your chest."

I stared at him, blinking a few times, not understanding what he was saying. He motioned to look down at me, and I did. There was a red dot hovering over my heart, and I swallowed. I knew what that dot meant.

"But…?", I looked back up at the Colonel, still not fully understanding.

Colonel Harris' gun was still in his jacket pocket. He wasn't the one aiming at me. There was someone else nearby. Probably Luis Sanchez.

"He gave off the warning shot and then left the scene, taking position here and waiting for us."

"But why?"

"I knew you would insist that Ranger's employees save your family. You wouldn't want to risk their lives. The time they lost looking for a sniper that wasn't even there, they lost to rescue you."

"But you could just shoot me yourself? Why Sanchez?"

"Of course, I could. I have the ability. But I prefer not to get my hands dirty myself. I didn't know if the cemetery was going to be busy. If there were witnesses around, I preferred not to be seen shooting a woman in bright daylight. And it looks like I was right with my precaution," the Colonel said, shrugging. "Now, we better move this forward. I'm sure Ranger's employees have figured out by now that there is no sniper lurking at your parents' house. We want to finish this up, before we are getting interrupted."

The kevlar vest would take the first bullet if he kept aiming for my heart. But as soon as he realized that I was wearing a vest, he would aim for my head. Should I try to run after the first shot, or dive behind a tombstone? The tombstones were small, not providing much cover. And then there was still Colonel Harris with his gun only a couple of feet away from me. I didn't know what to do. Finally, the panic took over my body. I looked down at the red dot over my heart and my vision blurred. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see the Colonel's cold eyes as the bullet was about to hit me.

But not only my vision blurred. Everything was a blur. I didn't know what I registered first: the gun shot or the yelling. I was stunned not to feel the impact of the bullet hitting the kevlar vest and opened my eyes. I opened them just in time to see Ranger at arm's length in front of me crashing to his knees and doubling over. His eyes were focused on me, a shadow of a beard showing on his cheeks and just before he fell over, I thought to see the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

My heart stopped beating, and I fell on my knees, too.

No!

No, no, NO!

What had happened?

Where had Ranger come from?

There was this inhuman noise piercing my ears and I realized that the noise came from me. I was screaming and for what felt like an eternity but probably were only seconds, I couldn't stop looking at Ranger's unmoving body in front of me.

My mind was paralyzed, but my body took over unconsciously. I crawled to Ranger. He lied face down on the ground, his gun still in his right hand. I grabbed the gun and without thinking twice I fired the whole magazine into Colonel Harris, who was standing a few feet away, aiming his gun at us, undecided who he should shoot. Before the Colonel's body even hit the ground, I was hovering over Ranger. I knew that the sniper was still out there, and that I'd better dive for cover. But Ranger was more important. I rolled him to his side, trying to drag his head behind a tombstone for cover. The group of grievers had run away, and I prayed that one of them had called 911. Ranger was barely conscious. His eyes were unfocused and his breathing shallow. The bullet had hit him square in the back and I didn't see an exit wound.

That was good, right?

I thought to remember that it was better when the bullet was still in the body. Less blood loss. But I couldn't be sure. I didn't know what to do.

"Ranger," I said over and over again, sobbing and pressing my face close to his. "Stay with me. You have to stay awake. Please," I begged.

I pulled my sweatshirt over my head and pressed it as firmly as I could to the wound on his back. The black t-shirt was already soaked in blood. I could hear some more gun shots, and I threw myself over Ranger's head, wanting to shield him from any more harm. The gunfire stopped and I adjusted my position again, looking into Ranger's face. His lips were turning violet, his eyes were closed. I pressed my lips onto his forcefully, ordering him to stay with me, and telling him how much I loved him, when a hand on my shoulder pulled me back. I was blindly grabbing for Ranger's gun to defend myself and Ranger, but the gun was yanked out of my grip.

"Stephanie, stop," the person shaking my shoulder yelled into my ear.

The voice sounded familiar, and I tried to put my blurred vision into focus.

It was Tank.

"Ranger, he's…," I sobbed, and Tank pulled me away further.

I tried to take some deep breaths, and eventually I could hear the sirens of the ambulance racing down the cemetery. Tank had rolled Ranger back on the stomach and pressed my fully soaked sweater on the wound. The paramedics ran towards us between the graves and Tank let them take over. They hoisted him onto a stretcher and carried him back to the ambulance. I sprang to my feet to follow, but my legs were wobbling, and I stumbled. Tank had followed me and put his arms under my shoulder to support me. By the time we reached the ambulance, they had already closed the doors behind Ranger, ready to drive off. But I was not having it. I had to stay with him. I tried to yank open the door, but Tank held me back.

"No," he said firmly. "We can follow. You don't have space in the ambulance. They need the space to be able to take care of him."

"But…,"

"No," he repeated, dragging me to a Rangeman car and pressing me down on the passenger seat. He rounded the car and climbed onto the driver's seat just when the ambulance took off. Tank followed quickly, staying at their bumper and speeding through every intersection behind them. It felt wrong not to be by Ranger's side. But of course, it was most important that the paramedics saved his life.

By the time we reached the nearest hospital, I had calmed down enough not to be sobbing hysterically anymore. When the ambulance came to a halt at the emergency entrance, I jumped out of the car before Tank had fully come to a stop. They unloaded Ranger and I hurried at his side. He looked awfully ashen, and I feared for the worst. But the way the paramedics rushed him inside and tried to remove me, Ranger must have still been alive. For now, anyway.

I tried to cling to the stretcher while they rushed him further inside the hospital. I wanted to stay with him, and make sure he was going to be alright. But as doctors and nurses came running towards us, they were adamant to remove me. One of the nurses tried to pry my stiff fingers from the stretcher.

"You have to let go. He needs to go into surgery, and you can't follow there. You waste precious time by holding on to him," she said insistently, and I finally let go.

I watched them disappear behind the double doors that indicated the surgery rooms and where I couldn't follow them. I should have told Ranger how much I loved him, but now it was too late, and I had to pray that I will be given another opportunity to tell him. Tank guided me to some seats in a waiting area and gently pressed me down on one, when I didn't take a seat on my own. Tears were blurring my vision again, and I didn't register what was happening around me. My thoughts were all focused on Ranger, silently ordering him to fight and to be alright. When the tears stopped and I was dried out, the numbness stayed. I didn't know how much time had passed. I was barely aware of someone pressing a bottle of water into my hands, and Tank occasionally pacing in front of me, before taking a seat again. He was typing on his phone while doing so. Probably trying to organize Rangeman while he waited with me for news about Ranger.

When an announcement call for a certain Dr. Singh penetrated the silence in the waiting area, I was finally shaken awake from my numbness. I blinked and looked at Tank, seeing him for the first time properly. He looked miserable, but he obviously tried to pull himself together, much different from me. I was a mess and also looked the part. My hands and arms and most of my jeans were covered in dried blood. Ranger's blood. I swallowed hard to remain in the present and not getting lost in my worries again. I looked puzzled at the open bottle of water in my hand and took a gulp. Only when the water ran down my dry throat did I realize how thirsty I was and drained the whole bottle. Hearing the cracking of the bottle, Tank looked at me, his attention shortly diverted from his phone.

"What happened?", I asked him with not much more than a whisper. My voice sounded hallow, and I wasn't sure if Tank had even heard me. But he put away his phone and sunk into the seat next to me.

"About ten minutes after you have climbed into the Colonel's car, I received a phone call from Ranger that he had been released and needed to be picked up. I briefed him on what had happened, and Ranger burrowed Morelli's car to follow your GPS signal. I was to take care of your family. We were very cautious, loosing a lot of time in the process, but soon realized that no one was watching your parents' house anymore. I let your family be brought to Rangeman anyway, and we pursued you and Ranger. The Rangeman cars have stronger motors than Morelli's SUV and we were able to catch up a little. I had five men with me, and when we arrived at the cemetery entrance there were screaming people running towards us. They had already called 911 and were pointing us to your position. Ranger had stayed connected through his phone with us, and the last thing he said before I heard the gun shot through the phone was sniper. So, I knew what we had to look for. I already anticipated it when we couldn't find Sanchez at your parents' house. Since I knew what to look for, it was easy to spot him in one of the trees and take him down," Tank finished his report.

I needed a moment to process everything. I wasn't sure if I should feel happy that Ranger had been released when he was, or not. If not for him, I would be dead now. But instead, Ranger is fighting for his own life now, because of me. I didn't want him to die. How could I continue living knowing that he was dead because of me?

"I was wearing a kevlar vest. The first shot wouldn't have killed me," I said soundlessly.

"Ranger new about the vest, but he obviously didn't want to take the risk. There are army projectiles that can penetrate a kevlar vest. Ranger knew what he was doing, when he stepped into the firing line," Tank said reassuringly. But this made it so much worse for me. A tear rolled down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away. I couldn't start crying again. There was still hope. Ranger wasn't dead. Not yet.

"How long is he already in surgery?"

Tank checked the time.

"A little over four hours," he said, and I nodded.

I didn't know if it was good news or bad news. But I told myself that as long as they are in surgery, there must still be hope.

We remained silent for a while, and I was still processing what Tank had told me and what had happened.

"Ranger burrowed Morelli's car? Morelli actually gave him the keys? And didn't go with him?"

Tank looked at me for a few seconds before blinking. He had been lost in his own thoughts, and when he locked eyes with me, the tips of his lips twitched into a small smile.

"Burrowed might be a stretch," Tank said. "Stolen would probably be the correct term, if you are hung up on semantics."

Despite my grief and worry, I had to smile, too. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was a relief to know that smiling still lied within my capabilities.

"What had happened to the Colonel?", Tank asked after a few minutes. "When we arrived, he was already dead and Hal reported that there was a massive whole in his chest, where his heart should have been."

"I don't think that the Colonel ever possessed something like a heart," I said drily. "But I shot him. After Ranger went down, the Colonel was pointing his gun at us. I grabbed Ranger's gun and shot without thinking twice. I didn't know if he would have shot me after Ranger had been hit, but I didn't want to take the risk."

Tank's eyes widened, but he remained silent and simply nodded.

"Will I be in trouble because I shot him without him having fired first?"

"I don't think so. He did aim a gun at you, and you have just been under fire. Plus, we have evidence that you were kidnapped and threatened. The intention of killing you had been clear."

I simply nodded. I didn't actually care. I hadn't even thought about the consequences before. I was glad that this man, that had caused Ranger so much pain and grief, was dead.

The minutes dragged into hours, and there was still no news from Ranger. Tank had helped me out of the uncomfortable kevlar vest and Rodriguez had brought me some fresh clothes and my belongings. Reluctantly, I had gone to the bathroom to get cleaned up. I had to admit that I did feel slightly better afterwards. Not having Ranger's blood stick on me certainly helped. After the sixth hour of surgery, the double doors silently opened and a doctor in scrubs stepped towards Tank and me.

"You are Mr. Manoso's dependent?", he asked.

"I'm his fiancée," I said surprisingly firm, and the doctor nodded.

"His condition is still considered critical, but stable for now. The next twenty-four hours will be crucial. The projectile had grazed his heart and punctured his lungs," the doctor said, and I swallowed hard.

"Can I see him?", I asked, fully planning on storming the hospital with a gun if I was denied my request.

"Only for a couple of minutes. He fell into a coma shortly before he had arrived at the hospital, and he needs rest. Like I said, the next twenty-hour hours are crucial in his recovery."

I nodded and turned towards Tank.

"I will wait here for you," he said reassuringly.

I stepped closer to Tank and went in for a hug. I saw the doctor turn away and took the opportunity to subtly snatch the handcuffs from Tank's utility belt. I thought that Tank was too puzzled by the hug, but the way he slightly shook his head when I stepped away from him, I knew he had noticed, and he knew what I was about to do. I had no intention of leaving Ranger, once I was with him.

"Ranger was allowed to stay with me, when I had been in hospital. Why should this be any different?", I asked under my breath and Tank actually smiled.

"Because Ranger is big, intimidating and has a lot of money to buy his way in," he said, and I simply shrugged, turning away to follow the doctor.

We took the elevator to the first floor and entered the ICU section. I followed the doctor down a hallway. All the rooms we passed had a big window into the hallway and glass doors and I could look into the rooms while walking by. The doctor finally stopped at the end of the hallway and pointed to the room to the left of the hallway. I hadn't hesitated to look into the rooms we had passed, and I desperately wanted to see Ranger, but at the same time I was scared about what I would see.

When I finally stepped closer and looked through the window, I had to steady myself by placing my hand to the wall. There were people lying in this section that looked considerably worse than Ranger. But I didn't know those people. I did, however, know and love that man I was looking at now. There was no blood anywhere. His torso was cleanly bandaged, and he was propped into a half lying half sitting position in his bed. There was a transfusion tube hooked up to his left arm and an oxygen tube was inserted into his nose. His skin didn't look as ashen as I remembered it when we had arrived at the hospital, but he still looked pale, and his face was sunken into itself. He looked vulnerable and broken, and it was a stark contrast to his usual strong, healthy, confident self. There was a sharp stab in the area of my heart, and I thought to have felt a piece of my heart breaking apart.

I staggered towards the door, and before I walked through, the doctor reminded me to only stay a few minutes. I nodded, not having the slightest intention of leaving again, and entered the room. The room was filled with equipment and monitors. The monitor supervising his heart rate made a steady beeping sound, reassuring me that Ranger was indeed alive, even if he didn't look the part. I rushed towards him and cautiously grabbed his right hand. I wanted nothing more than to throw myself into his arms, to be reassured that everything was going to be fine. But I was afraid that I would hurt him, if I touched him. His hand seemed to be a safe place to hold onto. I squeezed his hand, hoping for a reaction. But there was none.

I reached for his cheek with my other hand, gently stroking over the stubbles of a growing beard. Silent tears were streaming down my face again and I bended over him, softly kissing his cold, unresponsive lips, and a sob escaped my mouth.

I hadn't been prepared for how cold his lips felt. Almost dead. But the beeping of the machine reminded me that he was still alive.

"I love you, Carlos," I whispered against his lips. "I love you so much. Please don't leave me."

There was a soft, but nonetheless rude tapping on the door. The doctor probably wanted me to leave now. But I reached into my pocket where I had stowed Tank's handcuffs and cuffed my left hand to the railing of Ranger's bed. I sat down on the chair beside the bed and subtly placed my gun in my lap.

Of course, I wasn't going to shoot anyone. And I could easily be removed despite the handcuffs. But I still hoped that they would let me stay when I made clear how serious I was about not leaving Ranger's side.

"I'm sorry but I have to ask you to leave now," the doctor said apologetically, when he opened the door.

"No," I said simply, not moving and holding onto Ranger's hand.

"You can't stay here. There are no visitors allowed in the ICU. I already made an exception by allowing you a few minutes," he said insistently, not having noticed the handcuffs or the gun in my lap yet.

"I'm not leaving," I said forcefully, and the doctor finally took a closer look at me, taking an uncertain step backwards. "I have gone through hell the past couple of days. I had been kidnapped twice, tortured, molested and I had almost died, and now he is hovering between life and death. He had never left my side, and I'm not leaving his side now either."

The doctor must have read in my eyes that I was not to be messed with and silently retreated, not turning his back on me. He was probably calling for hospital security to remove me, but when nobody appeared after several minutes, I tried to relax a little. Maybe the craziness had been so strongly visible in my eyes that the doctor thought it was best to just leave me alone.

I put my gun away and resumed gently stroking Ranger's cheek while holding onto his hand. Secretly, I was still hoping for a reaction. I was hoping that he would feel my presence and open his eyes or just even a twitch of his finger. But I knew that was not how comas worked. I was focusing so intently on Ranger as to not miss a twitch after all, that I hadn't immediately noticed when someone had entered the room.

"His heart rate had become much stronger. That's very good," a woman said, and I flinched.

I looked up and saw a nurse tentatively smiling at me. The nurse looked to be in her twenties and had a friendly face, but her eyes looked uncertain. She had probably been warned about the lunatic refusing to leave the patient's side.

"I also need to check the bandage to make sure the stitches are holding and that he isn't losing blood," she said, and looked at me expectantly.

I realized that she was asking permission to step closer.

Great.

They really did believe I was dangerous.

But at least they were letting me stay.

"Sure, do whatever you need to do. I won't be in your way, and I'm certainly not going to hurt anyone. I just needed to stay by his side," I told her, trying to explain myself.

The nurse nodded and stepped closer. I wasn't sure if she understood or believed me. She carefully bent Ranger forward to have a look at his back. She must be stronger than what she looked like, because Ranger wasn't exactly light. After nodding again approvingly, she lowered him back into the cushions.

"There is no blood seeping through, and his vitals are looking good. Sometimes it helps the patient recover when a loved one is nearby, even when the patient is in a coma. Maybe, you are exactly what he needs to recover," she said encouragingly, before she left the room.

The nurse's words left me feeling hopeful. I cautiously placed my head on his thigh, putting his hand on top of my head the way he would often stroke my hair, when I was lying with my head in his lap on the couch. Maybe the familiar position would get through to him and comfort him somehow, helping him recover and regain consciousness.

The beeping of the heart monitor was tiring, and my eyelids suddenly felt heavy. I hadn't slept in over thirty-five hours and now that the adrenaline and anxiety subsided, it was taking its toll on my body. I reassured Ranger one last time that I loved him before I drifted off into sleep, and just before sleep caught up with me, I thought to have felt one of Ranger's fingers twitching on top of my head. But surely, it had only been my sleep-deprived imagination.