Page 11 of S.O.S. Mizzay

As unpalatable as soup from a machine sounded, it was her best option right now, especially if Mr. Smalley got held up and she had to pull another all-nighter.

Missy passed a few familiar nurses on the way down the hall to whom she gave greetings and waves, but she also ran across a few aides she didn’t recognize. Which was normal. Care attendants, special volunteers; they all came and went. So she didn’t give anyone in particular too much thought until…

One womandidn’tlook quite right, and gave Missy pause.

She wasn’t sure what, exactly, caught her eye.

Perhaps it was the way the woman stared at each door in passing, silently mouthing the room numbers as she passed. Or maybe it was the small tray she carried, covered with one of those papery blue drapes that often held meds and sterile equipment.

She’d never seen anyone but nurses carry those around.

A newbie?Perhaps. But the woman wasn’t in a nurse’s scrubs. It almost looked like the “uniform” she sported was from a completely different era. Odd.

And why was she toting around that tray that looked…important? The care attendants she’d come across were more about refilling pitchers with fresh water and cranking beds up and down. Something about this woman seemed seriously…off.

On a whim, Missy forwent her anticipated soup, turning to follow the stranger. She kept a good amount of distance between them so that—

Shit.

Why wasn’t Andy surprised when the person in her sights stopped in front of Cobble’s room. The woman gave a weird, satisfied nod, looked around to see if anyone was watching, then let herself in.

What the fuck?

What did that bitch want with Cobble?

Missy picked up her pace, reminding herself that Cobble’s regular nurse had just been in to see him not ten minutes previous, and from what the attending had said, there hadn’t been any new meds ordered. Cobble shouldn’t be requiring anything else.

Missy broke into a run, causing a few people to raise their brows, but she didn’t stop. She had a bad feeling about this. She wished she had her M9 on her, but hospital protocol mandated that no weapons be carried on site unless authorization was received from some unknown ruling board.

Since Cobble’s—along with Missy’s—arrival had been an emergency, security at the door had taken and held onto their weapons.

Bursting into Cobble’s room, Missy paused, taking in everything in a blink.

The woman was lifting a syringe from the tray that she’d laid on the overbed table, clearly preparing to administer it to Cobble’s IV.

Not happening.

“Stop!” Missy yelled from across the room, which gave the woman pause.

With her intent almost fully on the intruder and their momentary standoff, Missy noted—in her side vision—that Cobble had been startled awake. Not that he’d be aware of any danger,orwas in any condition to combat it, so it was a good thing Missy didn’t need his help. She’d excelled in all her Army,hand-to-hand training, and should easily be able to take the woman down, even though the interloper was much taller and weightier than Missy.

The woman sneered at Missy as if she’d taken her measure and found her lacking, then she boldly fumbled with Cobble’s IV.

Missy knew it was now or never.

She threw herself toward the intruder, covering the seven-foot separation between them in seconds, tackling the woman from behind. Her hit sent them both crashing to the floor, luckily away from the bed and all Cobble’s vital paraphernalia.

Missy punched her opponent in the face, and it stunned the woman. Given a short window of opportunity, Missy chopped at the fake nurse’s wrist in hopes of sending the syringe sailing. But somehow the bitch—who was now bleeding profusely from the nose—managed to hang onto her sharp weapon.

“Let. It. Go.” Missy snarled.Bam, bam, bam.

And…Shit.

Not only was the stranger not giving up whatever she’d been about to administer to Cobble, she was now snapping her teeth at Missy as they rolled around struggling for dominance. While Missy was busy avoiding those bacteria laden chompers, the woman continued to attempt jabbing whatever was in that hypo-cocktail, into Missy.

Oh, hell no.

A rapid knee to the woman’s gut stopped that line of attack, making the bitch gasp in pain, but she continued the struggle.

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