Page 31 of Shadow Undercover

“I’m improving.” A little.

Trace snorted. “If I let go of her, she’ll drop to the floor.”

“Thought so. You’re lucky the doc is distracted with one of his four-footed patients.” He shook his head. “All right. We’ll try to get you out of here without Sorenson noticing how bad off you are. If we’re not successful, you’re on your own convincing him you’re strong enough to travel.”

“No problem.” She looked at Trace. “Bathroom, please. And step on it if you don’t mind. I have a date.”

“You have a date with the bed at the back of the jet,” he muttered. “Come on, Cinderella. We don’t want you to be late for the ball.”

A moment later, Bridget was safely inside the bathroom with strict instructions to call out if she felt dizzy. After Trace brought in her bag and closed the door to give her privacy, Bridget changed clothes. She discovered tugging a shirt over her head was an exercise in pain when you had cracked ribs. Man, she couldn’t imagine how much worse she’d hurt if Sam hadn’t taped her ribs to give them support.

By the time she opened the door, Bridget was trembling with fatigue, her skin beaded with sweat. She longed to take a shower but didn’t have the strength. Asking Sam about getting her stitches wet was next on her list of things to do. Yeah, she’d get right on that after she sat down before she fell to the floor in a quivering heap. This weakness was galling.

Trace straightened from the wall beside the door and wrapped his arm around her waist again. “You okay?”

“Not really. If you tell Sorenson, I will never forgive you.”

“Sam can handle your care once we leave.”

Nico walked into the room, black bag over one shoulder and a rifle in his arms. “Jet’s ready and the SUVs are idling at the back door.” He eyed Bridget. “How can I help?”

“Get my bag from the bathroom, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He retrieved her bag and slung Trace’s bag over his other shoulder. Stepping into the hall, he said, “Joe, take care of Trace’s sniper rifle. Time to move out. We have a snake to catch.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Trace paid close attention to Bridget as the team bailed from the SUVs, grabbed gear, and headed for the Fortress jet. Nico and Brent remained behind to provide protection for them when Trace and Bridget made their own trek to the Lear.

Bridget’s face was pale. How much pain was she in? “Ready?”

“Let’s go.”

Right. He opened the door and reached back to assist her from the SUV. The minute Bridget’s feet hit the tarmac, Trace wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her.

“I’ve got your bags and hers,” Brent said, voice soft. “Get her settled.”

“Thanks.”

He clapped Trace’s shoulder and circled to the cargo area of the SUV.

Trace walked with Bridget to the jet. Inside the cabin, he urged her toward the bedroom and got her settled while his teammates stored gear and claimed seats.

Bridget relaxed with a sigh against the propped-up pillows. “Please tell me we have a long flight. I can use another nap.”

He squeezed her hand. “We’ll be in the air for a few hours.”

“Excellent. I’ll be good as new when I wake up,” she assured him.

His eyebrow rose.

“I will. You’ll see.”

Nico poked his head around the door jamb. “All set?”

Trace nodded.

“We’ll be in the air soon.”

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