Page 79 of Undercover Infidel
As the ambulance raced toward the nearest trauma center, I held Con’s hand, willing strength into him with each squeeze. The vehicle’s motion blurred with the turmoil in my mind. Dr. McLaren—my mentor, my guide for the past decade—had been involved with Labyrinth from the beginning. The revelation cut deeper than any physical wound.
At the hospital, they whisked Con away to surgery, leaving me in a stark waiting area. A nurse led me to an examination room where a doctor cleaned and stitched the gash on my forehead, pronouncing me lucky to have escaped with minor injuries.
“Your colleague wasn’t as fortunate,” she said. “The surgical team is working on him now.”
I thanked her mechanically, then returned to the waiting area, unable to focus on anything but the clock on the wall marking each excruciating minute Con spent in surgery.
Three hours later, Tag found me there, his face grim with fatigue and worry.
“Any word?” he asked, dropping into the chair beside me.
I shook my head, not trusting my voice.
“The team is safe,” he reported. “Renegade took a hit, but nothing critical.”
“What about Archon?”
“He’s been knocked out by the thugs helping Bennett, as was Renegade, but otherwise, uninjured.”
I nodded, grateful for the news but unable to feel true relief while Con’s fate remained uncertain.
“McLaren?” I finally asked.
“Uncertain.” Tag’s eyes hardened. “They’re still sifting through the rubble. At this point, it’s considered recovery, not rescue.”
My stomach twisted. “And Orlov?”
“Alive, barely. We extracted him before the main explosion. He’s in surgery now.” Tag’s voice dropped lower. “Bennett was DOA.”
I closed my eyes, recalling Bennett’s final charge toward Orlov. Whatever his motives, his sacrifice had given us the chance to stop the demonstration.
“What happened in there, Lex?”
I told him everything—McLaren’s betrayal, Bennett’s revelation about their true mission, the countermeasure they claimed to have implemented.
“So McLaren helped create Labyrinth, then tried to sabotage it when she realized Orlov’s true intentions?” Tag summarized.
“That’s what she claimed,” I replied. “But I don’t know what to believe anymore. The woman I thought I knew would never have helped create something so dangerous in the first place.”
Tag’s hand rested on my shoulder. “The best lies contain elements of truth. Maybe she convinced herself she was doing the right thing.”
A surgeon approached before I could respond. I stood so quickly the room tilted.
“He’s stabilized,” the doctor announced. “His major organs are intact, but he lost a significant amount of blood. We’ve repaired the damage, but the next twenty-four hours will be critical.”
Relief washed over me, leaving my knees weak. “Can I see him?”
“He’s in recovery now. Once he’s moved to intensive care, you can visit briefly.”
Two more hours passed before a nurse led me to Con’s room. The sight of him, pale and still among the machines monitoring his vital signs, nearly undid me. I sank into the chair beside his bed, taking his hand in mine.
“You promised we’d come out together,” I whispered. “I’m holding you to that.”
His fingers remained limp in mine, but the steady beep of the heart monitor offered reassurance that he was fighting. I settled in to wait, refusing offers of food or rest.
As the day faded, nurses came and went, checking his vital signs and adjusting the medications. I remained a fixture at his bedside, unwilling to leave even for a moment.
Near midnight, his fingers twitched in mine. I straightened, watching his face for any sign of consciousness.
