Page 29 of Wrecked
Adrenaline pounded for another ten minutes, giving Sam a break from his head injury. But as soon as that washed away, his bad stomach churned, and his head pounded.
He slumped in the seat and sucked in deep breaths, desperate to stay upright and alert. He blinked to clear his swirling vision. This was not the time to let on that his head wanted to blow off his shoulders.
Pablo would take them to the airport where a private jet waited to fly them home. They’d wipe down the gear and weapons, leaving all of it with Pablo as a service tip.
By the time they reached the airport in an hour and landed a short walk to their jet, no one would notice the four tourists looking like they’d partied too hard.
Sam survived yet another roller coaster ride in that helo and climbed out of the fuselage on his own at the hangar. The world spun a moment then slowed. He could do this.
The other three waved Pablo off so Sam tossed a hand up without looking back. One step, then another. Stay upright.
He swallowed bile back down and kept walking toward the jet.
Another fifty or sixty steps and he could pass out in a smooth-riding aircraft.
Blade fell into step with him. “That cut on your head needs time to heal and you do have a concussion.”
Shaking his head would be a huge mistake. Sam dug deep to sound confident and strong. “I’m feeling better already.”
Nitro had been last to depart and would be close enough to hear every word.
Blade wiped his face, failing to erase the exhaustion there. “That may be, Cuz, but Nitro wants you to take two weeks, and I agree.”
Sam’s head ached and dizziness would assault him if he even turned to look at Blade. Not happening. Keep walking to that damn jet. “Nah. I’ll get some rest on the flight home. I need to stay with the team and see this thing through.”
Angel stepped up on his other side.
What was this? Fucking intervention?
Angel said, “We have a leak, Partyman. Moose is running down every possibility. You can take some time to heal. Nitro will let you know when we have information and a new plan.”
The idea of walking away was eating up Sam’s insides. If he left now, he had serious doubts about being brought back. Who had gotten to Esteban and why?
Another gut-wrenching thought banged into Sam’s headache. He’d vouched for Esteban. Had he been the reason his team almost got blown to pieces?
Sam had to know who was behind this.
What about that woman? How did she fit in?
Thirty feet to go.
Blade took off jogging to the jet with Angel right behind him. Had they done that just to test Sam? He would not take the bait. He could walk, not run.
He’d felt worse before. He just couldn’t recall when.
Nitro shouted, “Sam!”
Out of natural reflexes, Sam swung around to defend against a threat and found their leader staring him down.
Sam’s head spun. His vision crossed.
He bent over with his hands on his knees. He threw up the water and nutrition bars he’d eaten on the flight here. Ah, shit. Just put a bullet in him.
He had to stand up. Had to stand upnow.
Nope. His knees buckled and he slapped his hands on the ground to not face-plant. “You son of a bitch.” He threw up again.
“Sorry, Partyman.” Nitro called out, “Blade, need you to help me get Sam on the plane.”
