Page 84 of Duty Bound

“You’ve patched me up?”

“Somewhat.” Stitch’s voice was grim. “I’ve set your broken arm best I can, but you might want to get it looked at by a specialist when you get back to the States. I’ve put back your dislocated collarbone—probably a good thing you were out for that—and I’ve iced your black eye. Nothing I can do about the three broken ribs, unfortunately. That’ll take some time to heal.”

“Three broken ribs?” He looked down to find he was wearing a loose-fitting robe.

“Yeah, they did a number on you, pal. You’re lucky you were able to walk out of there.”

He grunted. “Thanks, Stitch.”

“Not the first time, but I sure as hell hope it’s the last.”

“So do I.”

Blade flexed his left hand, it felt strange, like his nerves weren’t working properly. Everything would take time to heal, including his heart.

“Lily?” he muttered. “Did she get away?”

“I haven’t heard anything, so I assume so. Farzaad’s been scanning the local news stations, but there’s been no mention of her. No disturbance on the local police channels either, other than hunting for your sorry ass. My guess is she’s home free.”

Yet they wouldn’t know for sure until he’d talked to Pat.

“Got a cell phone?” he asked, knowing it was a long shot.

“Yeah, right.”

So much for that. Out here, there was minimal cell reception, and no Wi-Fi. Even in the cities, it was sporadic. And highly censored.

“You’re going to have to hang tight, buddy. Once you’re feeling better, you can head back to Kabul.”

“How? They’re going to come after me like a buck during hunting season.”

“I have a surprise for you.”

Blade recognized that wide, sly grin.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, but you have to get up to see it. I can’t bring it to you.”

Blade huffed. This was Stitch’s attempt at getting him moving. He knew the dangers of muscle atrophy and staying too long in one place.

“Okay, give me a sec.” Using his good arm, he pushed himself into a sitting position. The room swam, momentarily, but after a hard blink, it stabilized.

“You good?” Stitch was frowning.

“Yeah, I think so.”

He swung his legs out of bed, the concrete floor felt hard and cool under his bare feet. Unnatural, since it had been a while since he’d walked.

“How long have I been out?”

“Twenty-four hours, give or take.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, you were worse than I thought. It’s still gonna take a while, so don’t be a hero.”

“How long?”

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