Page 138 of Anchor
CHASE DENVER – REHAB SUITE – 1330 HOURS
Claire never expected Reid to work this fast. The private suite smelled faintly of antiseptic, softened by the clean scent of lilacs and roses—fresh, full arrangements Ian had flown in for her.
Claire was pale, still weak from blood loss, and propped against stacked pillows to keep her upright. The IV line curved delicately over her wrist, red against her skin like a ribbon, but her grip on Reid’s hand was unyielding.
He stood beside her in clean scrubs, ribs bound tight beneath the fabric. He should have looked broken, yet when he turned toward her, his voice was steady and his eyes unshakable.
Kieran and Tuck stood against the far wall, silent witnesses. They were present, though far away in Reid’s awareness, because his world had narrowed until there was only Claire, her voice carrying through the space as if nothing else mattered.
The judge’s words were brief, no more than a frame to hold what was already true.
“I do,” Claire said, firm and clear.
Reid’s throat tightened, his own answer catching but steady enough. “I do,” he said, as though every scar, every wound had brought him to this moment.
There were no rings, no dress, no audience, just her hand tangled with his, the IV line looping between their fingers, and the flowers filling the room with a beauty she had not expected.
Kieran stepped forward from the wall and reached into his pocket, producing a small velvet pouch. From it, he withdrew two simple gold bands and placed them gently on the bedside tray.
Claire blinked at them, startled.
Reid’s mouth curved into the faintest smile as he picked up one of the bands and slid it carefully onto her finger. “With this ring, I thee wed.” Then he added, “When this is over, you’ll have the engagement ring of your dreams. I promise.”
Her throat tightened as she picked up the other band with trembling hands and slipped it over his scarred knuckle. “With this ring, I thee wed.”
Gold bands, plain and solid, warm against their skin. She brushed her thumb across the edge of it and whispered, her voice breaking on the last word, “Then I’ll hold you to it.”
Her words cut straight through him. He squeezed her hand. “No matter how broken I am, no matter what it costs, I’ll get us there. I’ll give you that ring. I’ll give you the happily ever after.”
CHASE DENVER – REHAB SUITE – 2314 HOURS
The helicopter didn’t land on the medical tower roof. Instead, it touched down on the covert helipad built into the mountainside east of the facility, concealed beneath a retractable garden roof no civilian ever saw. From there, the convoy moved in silence. Three black Suburbans threaded through a tunnel that didn’t exist on any city plan. Tree Town One arrived without fanfare.
But Reid felt them the moment they stepped onto the floor. The steady operators were trained to move like silence made of flesh. There was no chatter, just crisp nods and hard eyes.
Dean Kozlow, Apex, entered first, nodding once toward Lincoln. “Floor swept. Cleared. We’ll run overlap with Denver’s X-Ray Team and set perimeters every four.”
“Rotations?” Reid asked from the doorway.
“Two hours on, four off, split across bedrooms, exits, and tech feeds.” Apex didn’t ask how Reid was standing. He just offered a look that said,Good. You're up.
Behind him, Quinn, Torch, and Relay moved like furniture was an afterthought, repositioning the console desk to betterblock a balcony sightline, and sweeping for any ghost tech. Lena ran a thermal camera along the ceiling vents. Tree Town One was here, along with a new medical team from New York.
Reid turned as the side elevator opened with a soft tone. Two nurses, both OB-certified, stepped in with kits already prepped and bagged. Behind them came a pediatric trauma nurse and a fetal heart tech.
Patrick nodded them all into place. “This is the new baseline,” he said quietly to Reid. “We build from here.”
Inside the suite’s open living space, one of the velvet couches had been pushed to the window. A full telemetry board now stood in its place, silent but waiting. A bassinet-style mobile bed for emergency fetal transfers had been wheeled discreetly into the corner, disguised beneath a blanket. Two oxygen tanks stood behind the love seat. It no longer looked like a penthouse.
It looked like a war bunker with linen sheets.
Claire hadn’t seen it yet. She was still asleep down the hall, on orders, her vitals under constant readout.
Reid walked to the edge of the telemetry screen and looked out the glass. Denver shimmered beyond it, soft and bright. He pressed a hand to the window. They were ready if Vos came.
It waswhenVos came. But, this time, he’d have to go through all of them.
Apex leaned against the opposite wall, arms crossed, a comm loop coiled behind his right ear. The others were scattered throughout the space, silent but watchful. Ghostwire stood near the rear suite door. Shade was by the hall that led to the elevators. Lockjaw and Scope quietly double-checked the med tech wiring. Relay ran another passive scan for signal bleeds.
