Page 1 of Back the Blue

One

“Shit,” Malcolm hisses. “This is going to suck.”

“Dammit,” I sigh. “This is not how I wanted to start my Friday night. We better vest up.”

“Absolutely,” he nods. “I’m not getting taken out by a bunch of drug dealing asshats. Too bad we don’t have helmets though.”

“Well, hopefully if we’re aiding a fellow gang member, they’ll give us some cover,” I counter lamely as I pull my vest on.

“You’ll have better than that,” Lenny our driver calls back. “Sounds like the FBI is responding to this.”

“What?”

Malcolm and I react in unison. Lenny grimaces and shakes his head.

“Sounds like one of the members is on their top ten right now. They want him. Bad.”

Malcolm locks eyes with me. His expression says it all; he doesn’t want me out of the ambulance. He wants to take the risk for me. And while I love him for it…

“Over my dead body,” I growl.

“You better hope you don’t get your wish, Lorna,” he says seriously. “If there’s only one patient, I can handle it.”

“I’m your superior, it’s not your call.”

He doesn’t like this, but he doesn’t argue. Thank fuck. Right now, I need to get myself ready for whatever lies ahead. In five more minutes, Lenny curses from the front seat. That’s not unusual, but it sets me on edge even more tonight. When we pull to a stop, we lean forward and check out the scene.

“Multiple injuries. Multiple victims,” I mutter.

“And it looks like the FBI has secured the perimeter,” Malcolm points out.

“Let’s get to it,” I say with a nod.

I turn for the door, but before I can push it open, someone does it for me. And my breath stops at the sight of him. I swear to God he fills the entire bay he’s so large. But when his eyes lock with mine, they widen for just a moment. And that’s all I need to stop my assessment of his very fine physical attributes and set him in his place.

“I’ve got a job to do and you’re in my way,” I say coldly.

“We need another minute to secure the perimeter,” he growls.

“I need to assess the victims, prioritize their injuries, and call for more assistance if necessary,” I snap. “A minute could cost me a life.”

“This is a gang war,” he snaps.

“I don’t care.”

His eyes narrow and I straighten as much as I can standing in the open door. Just as he takes a breath to say something else, someone calls out.

“Hughes, we’re clear! Get those medics out here, now!”

I don’t bother to hide the smirk on my face. But I gasp when he grabs me by my waist and pulls me out of the ambulance as if I weigh nothing. Then, without a word, he grips my elbow and hustles me over to a man lying in a pool of blood. Not giving a damn about Mr. Body Builder, I drop to my knees and get to work.

Time passes as I do my job. I’m vaguely aware of the voices around me. Some are calm, some aren’t. Without realizing it, I’m somehow aware that the agent that pulled me out of the back of the ambulance is hovering. When I have a second, I glance around and find Malcolm working on another victim. I smile a bit, thankful that he’s not distracted. As soon as I’ve stopped the bleeding on my patient, I hear sirens alerting me to the arrival of more medical personnel. Which is good because I need to get my patient on a stretcher, like, yesterday. No sooner do I put one foot on the ground to stand, a shot rings out.

And I fall flat on my back, gasping for breath and clawing at my vest.

“Fuck.”

The word is spoken simultaneously by me and the agent, who is now hovering over me as he scans the perimeter with his giant weapon. For a few moments, I do a quick assessment of myself. I reach under my vest and check for a wound, lest these criminals have amour piercing bullets. When I feel nothing but tenderness, and no blood, I start to prop myself up. Somehow, though, the agent manages to keep me on my back with his left hand just seconds after he fires his weapon.

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