Page 45 of Call Sign: King
Ryder had been sitting in his rental car, parked just down the street from Toronto General Hospital, for at least five minutes. Each time he’d put his hand on the door to get out, he’d pulled back, unable to exit the vehicle.
How the fuck was he supposed to go inside and pretend that he wasn’t already a dead man walking? Failing his wife had already knocked him down hard, and now sheer panic sat on his chest, trying to steal each breath he took, but he suspected watching the men who’d risked their lives to keep her safe, dying in front of his eyes, would be a knock-out blow he’d never recover from.
Closing his eyes, he let his mind wander, enjoying a sliver of comfort in remembering Khloe laughing… smiling… radiant. But even as he let the memories of her soothe him, recognition of how close she was with Trevor and Ricky came in too. She had to have seen them shot right in front of her. She must be frantic for her dear friends.
As much as his gut wanted to be in the air, in pursuit, his brain knew Axel was right. They needed more information before he went off half-cocked in the wrong direction. He may not be able to rescue her in that moment, but the least he could do was check on her dearest friends, and with any luck, be able to get information from them about the kidnappers that would aid in hunting them down.
Grabbing his phone off the charger, Ryder exited the SUV. The sun had set, yet a soft summer’s breeze lingered in the air. Children laughed as they rode their bikes past him, taunting him with the knowledge that while his world may be crumbling, the rest of Toronto was going forward as if nothing had happened.
He’d parked near the emergency entrance and knew he was in the right place thanks to the group of reporters and cameramen gathering near the side door. They were animatedly chattering amongst themselves giving him time to slip inside without being stopped.
Ryder tamped down his impatience at having to wait behind an elderly couple to talk to the receptionist behind the desk not far from the entrance. When it was finally his turn to ask for help, he was so out of it, he didn’t even know who he should ask about first.
“May I help you?” the kind woman asked when he delayed.
“Many of my friends were just brought in from the Park Hyatt. They are suffering from gunshot wounds.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “I told you reporters you’d need to wait outside,” she scolded, pointing in the direction of the exit.
“Do I look like a reporter to you?”
She paused, sizing him up before asking. “What are your friend’s names?”
“Trevor McLean, Ricky Santos, Tank… er, Patrick Williamson, and Gabriel Garcia.”
The woman glanced down at her computer screen, typing a few commands. When she looked back up at Ryder, he saw pity had replaced her skepticism.
“Are you family?”
The BSO team felt like family, but on paper he didn’t qualify.
“I’m their boss. They all work for me.” Ryder paused to swallow the lump in his throat before adding, “I need updates on their condition so I can notify their families.”
“I understand. Unfortunately, three of the four patients have already been moved out of the Emergency Room. Only Mr. Garcia is still here, waiting for an operating room to open up.”
Ryder fought back the urge to ask if the other three men had been moved to the ICU or worse, the morgue. One thing at a time.
“Can I see Mr. Garcia now?”
“Yes. A friend of his who arrived in one of the ambulances is back there waiting with him. Please sign in here and then you can go back to them.”
Ryder scrawled his signature on the clipboard as he listened to her directions. Considering he felt like he was buried under a thick blanket of fog, he might need a miracle to find them after wandering through the winding corridors between the entrance and the emergency room.
A fraction of the weight on his shoulders lifted when he heard Gabriel’s voice in the distance. At least his team leader was still alive.
Making his way in the direction of Reaper’s voice, Ryder walked past the busy nurse’s station.
“Sir! You can’t just walk back there! You need to check in first!”
Unable to use any of his already fleeting energy on silly conversations, Ryder kept walking. He heard feet jogging behind him just as he saw Reaper and Hawkeye up ahead. Both men looked up at the sound of the nurse shouting for him to halt.
Only when he stood at the end of Reaper’s bed did Ryder finally stop. He vaguely heard the nurse chastising him.
Hawkeye pulled it together first.
“It’s okay. This is our boss. He’s here to check up on those injured from our team,” his lead medic explained to the ER nurse.
“I don’t care. We can’t just have people walking around willy nilly without checking in at the nurse’s station.”
