Page 15 of The Entire Team

“What kind of vest do you have on, show me now!” She unbuttoned her blue EMS shirt, taking it off so they could see the second chance vest underneath. “Are you a plant? Why do you have this?”

“It’s part of the uniform.”

The man stepped into her, driving a 2.5” blade through her vest into the left side of her abdomen. “You talk too much,” he bit out as she looked up at him in shock. “Not so invincible now. Take off the vest.”

As she pulled the tabs removing the vest, she was mentally assessing her stab wound.Not particularly deep. No critical organs, blood supply. Jeezuz Christ it still hurts. Shouldn’t be lethal. I can’t believe he just fucking stabbed me about my uniform.She pulled the vest over her head, barely holding back a cry, holding it out to him with her right hand. He took the vest and his eyes wandered down her torso to where the knife had gone through the vest. Her white undershirt was cut and her blood was spreading.

Ashe met his eyes as he leaned toward her, “Maybe you learn to keep your mouth shut now, huh?” He dismissed her with a head jerk.

18

RED

The team had stopped for lunch across from the bank. They’d heard and then watched the commotion from their table. When police vehicles arrived, they pushed away from the table and headed outside.

Red’s chair hit the floor as he stood. “Genie, what the fuck!”

“We don’t move until we’re cleared,” Genie answered calmly. Red grabbed the chair from the floor and slammed it down, taking in a big lungful of air.

Stitch interrupted, “Genie, he’s gonna start in brogue and we’re all gonna be fucked.”

“Someone they work with just got stabbed!” Rave added.

Tech silently continued watching the CCTV feed with Flash. Both assessing from their perspective ways ahead, Tech intel and Flash all the dots. Neither tuned in to the aggravation breaking out at the table. Genie saw Flash’s head tilt and stood, looking for the officer in charge.

Making eye contact with the Captain, Genie looked back at his team, “time to go.”

Red sidled up to Flash, “what happened?”

“She started CPR on the old man.”

Ashe couldn’t hearanything but buzzing in her ears, she watched a group of uniformed and non-uniformed come through the bank. She had no idea where the thieves were. She knew the woman and newborn were dead, had watched as falling debris crushed them. She knew the old man was dead, she’d been doing chest compressions on the man for the sixth minute when the flash bang had gone off.

As the police started moving through the mess of people and damage she was pushed against a wall. They were told to stand up; Ashe got her hands on the wall in an attempt before she started puking. She never made it off her knees. She felt an arm go around her waist, supporting her weight so that she wouldn’t fall into the mess she’d made. Red rolled to the side when she went limp, keeping them both clear of her vomit. “No more, please, no more” Ashe muttered as she settled into his lap.

“We need to get you to a hospital,” Red started. When she didn’t respond he asked, “Can you hear me?” No reply. Red adjusted his hold on her and stood. As he moved to get her outside to the ambulance, one of the cops stopped him.

“She’s a witness.”

“She needs a hospital. I’m sure you can find her. She’s got a concussion and needs stitches, get out of my way.”

Tech ran interference putting himself between the two men, allowing Red to leave.

As he stepped out onto the street and headed for the ambulances she rolled into him, his grip tightened reflexively. He looked down at her, she was so small. She had seemed larger than life on the CCTV. She wasn’t over 5’6” and would’ve given early 2000’s Alyssa Milano a run for her money. He had gotten her blood on his hand when he’d initially grabbed her and was now staining the other side of her shirt with his grip. He carried her into the ambulance and realized he would have to put her down.

“Flash is getting the vehicle. Strap her in so we can go,” Stitch stated as he climbed into the treatment compartment and started shutting the doors with the medic. Red settled her onto the cot, buckling her in as the paramedic came in from the side, closing the side door.

“Let’s go,” the paramedic said toward his partner, who was settling into the driver’s seat with Rave in the passenger seat.

“What do you know?” the paramedic asked as he set up the vitals machine.

“She has a TBI, 2-3” blade there,” Red motioned to her torn, blood-stained shirt.

“Just because she hit her head--” the paramedic pointed at the swelling and cut near her temple but was cut off.

“No,” Red’s accent was coming in heavier now. “She was exposed to at least three explosions. She started puking when she tried to stand up after the last detonation and passed out right afterwards.” The paramedic nodded. Starting at the collar of her shirt, the paramedic slid his scissors down, opening the shirt so he could make sure there weren’t any additional injuries. He hastily bandaged her stab wound, knowing it would come off the second she got into the Emergency Room.

19

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