Rescuing Olivia (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) (Nightshade Book 1) Read online

  Cars were scattered through the intersection, and it was chaos everywhere she looked. People were running around with cell phones in their hands. Some were talking, and some were crying, probably to their significant others. There were half a dozen cars broken and shattered across the pavement, and none of the vehicles were facing the direction they were supposed to. It looked like a giant child had literally dropped toy cars onto the pavement and left. On the far side of the disaster was a red truck. It had been stopped by a huge aluminum stoplight pole and judging by the shape of the driver’s side door panel, she didn’t think anyone had survived.

  Well, it was hard to tell. It seemed like the drunks always survived, no matter how much carnage they left in their wake.

  There had been a flash of red before the impact, and it had been almost exactly that color. Moving to the back of the car, which had escaped any kind of damage at all, she opened the hatch and grabbed her med kit. After so many years of traveling and driving, she had learned to always keep one with her. Saving lives was what she had been built to do, and she always had the tools with her to do it.

  There were people on the ground everywhere. A man staggered into Olivia’s path, blood flowing freely from a deep looking scalp wound. “Let’s sit you down, buddy,” she told him, taking hold of his arm. The guy looked at her, but there didn’t appear to be anyone home in his expression. She’d seen this so many times in her career, that shell-shocked look. It was devastating being in any kind of accident, and he had that look of disbelief, like how had it happened to him? The guy listened to her voice, though, and dropped to the curb to be treated.

  There was a kid with a sweatshirt hanging from his hand, watching people struggle. She snatched at the sweatshirt in his hand. “Hey, dumbass. If you’re not going to help, call 911.”

  He blinked at her, as shocked as the accident victim. Then something determined changed in his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Even as she pressed the heavy cotton to wandering guy’s head wound, the kid dug his cell from his pocket and dialed the emergency number. Olivia looked pointedly at another one of the bystanders and jabbed a finger at him. “You, press here.”

  She didn’t give them the option of telling her no. That was one of the biggest mistakes people made in an emergency. The public was trained to follow the leader, but if there was no leader, they floundered. Olivia had no problem stepping up to be the bitch and get them moving. She dug into the med kit and took just a second to swipe at her head. It was still bleeding, just enough to be a nuisance. Ripping open a four by four, she taped it to her head, where she thought the injury was. Oh, yeah, that was the spot. Fuck that hurt.

  Olivia handed a stack of pads to the guy holding pressure. “Use these.”

  He lifted the drenched sweatshirt away and immediately pressed the pads to wandering guy’s head. Good. Maybe he would actually help the man.

  Leaving the head wound at the side of the road, Olivia headed back into the carnage, snapping on a pair of gloves. The rest of the scene needed to be triaged. As she went from wounded to wounded, she listened for sirens, but they never came. Where the fuck were emergency services? The crash had to have been called in.

  There was a mini-van with a heavier-set woman trying to struggle out. She had a knock to the head and her airbags had deployed, but she seemed coherent enough. Olivia told her to stay in place, then she moved on to the small red truck. There was an older gentleman in here, and she could tell that at least one of his legs were broken. The guy seemed to be handling the pain like a trouper, though. “Can you check on my wife? She got out to help but I think her arm is broken.”

  Olivia found the woman. She was sitting with another, younger woman at the front of a completely demolished car. It had been crumpled like a pop can. Olivia pinned the younger woman with her gaze and pointed at the car. “You were driving this?”

  The young blond nodded her head and seemed to be injury free. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks, though, and she was obviously emotionally distraught.

  “You are very lucky,” Olivia told her. It was amazing that the most damaged vehicle had the least damaged driver.

  “Are you okay?” she asked the older woman.

  She nodded, tears filling her eyes. “My arm is broken, but I’ll be okay.”

  Olivia checked both women’s pupils, but they responded evenly. “No head trauma?”

  They each shook their heads. “Okay, then sit right here and wait for emergency services, okay?”

  She returned to the old man in the truck and related that she’d found his wife, safe and sound, helping a young driver. He smiled at her, weakly, and nodded his head.

  “Emergency services will be here in just a few minutes, okay?”

  He nodded again, and she left. As she moved to one of the last vehicles, she could finally hear a siren in the distance.

  In one crumpled car, there was a younger woman slumped over the wheel. It was only as Olivia got around to the driver’s side that she realized that a long piece of iron had gone through and obliterated most of the right side of the woman’s skull. She felt for a pulse, but there was no saving her. Death had a certain look. She was about to turn away from the mess when she heard a small snuffle. She looked back into the car and realized there was a baby in a car seat, probably only a year old, in the back seat, and the same piece of metal that had killed the mother had also struck the child. Olivia jerked on the back door, but it wasn’t budging. The window had shattered glass everywhere, and there was no way the crumpled door was going to open. She hurried around to the other side, but it had been driven into the side of a short containing wall. Fuck!

  Circling back around to the driver’s side, she debated how to get the damn kid out. Maybe the firefighters would have tools... something to wedge the door open. The sirens continued to wail, but if they were on scene, she couldn’t see them. One of the cars had begun to smoke, obscuring visibility. People were still milling about, and she could no longer tell who was injured and who was just trying to satisfy their sick curiosity. There were no cops on scene yet to keep the yahoos and rubberneckers out. It looked like someone had gotten the old man with the broken leg out of the truck and off to the side of the intersection. Good. One less person to worry about.

  The heat billowed around her as she looked around for something to use to wedge the door open, but she didn’t immediately see anything. She was pulling on the door handle, cussing like a son of a bitch, when someone appeared beside her and started to pull with her. “There’s a baby in here,” she snapped, breathing hard.

  “Move,” he growled.

  Olivia backed away, only then realizing that the tall guy was a firefighter. He was in a dark blue T-shirt and canvas fire pants, with the red suspenders hanging around his hips. And he had an axe in his hand. Wedging the blade into the frame, he tried to force it open, his huge back and shoulders straining, but it didn’t work. He glanced down at her. “Back in a sec. Maybe you should sit down.”

  Fuck that. Olivia looked for the next injury. While he was getting the child out, she could help someone else. She hurried to the smoking car. There was a guy inside, head lolling to the side. “Sir,” she called, but there was no response. She swiped at sweat rolling down her head with a forearm.

  More sirens ground to a stop nearby, and Olivia knew that someone would be here in a minute. “Sir, you need to wake up. We need to get you out of the car.”

  She did a sternal rub on him, but there was no response. The airbags had gone off and there didn’t appear to be any head trauma, but maybe she just couldn’t see everything. When she noticed blood on her arm, she realized she’d been wiping away blood, not the sweat she’d thought. Damn it. If she went down, she wouldn’t do anyone any good. Plus, the cross-contamination. Fuck!

  Someone with a booming voice began directing the emergency services where they needed to go. About damn time. It had to have been at least ten minutes now that she’d been going car to car.

  Olivia blinked and suddenly there were firefighters surrounding her, gently nudging her out of the way to get the man out of the smoking car. Paramedics were there with a stretcher, and she relayed the few details she was able to ascertain about the man. He began to rouse as they lifted him from the car and Olivia had a feeling he would be okay. She turned to head back to the trapped child’s vehicle, when someone caught her with a hand on her arm.

  “Ma’am, you need to let the medics look at you.”

  The firefighter looked very young, the helmet rocking on his head like he was a kid playing dress-up. “I’m okay. There’s a child trapped back here.”

  That was enough to motivate the hero-to-be, and he followed her back to the other car, just in time to see the first rescuer wedge the door open with a pike pole. He glanced up at the other firefighter. “Get the paramedics,” he ordered.

  Ah, he was the one with the booming voice.

  The younger kid- hero- took off at a run.

  “I’m a nurse,” Olivia said, pushing forward. “Let me look at her.”

  Even standing amongst the wreckage and chaos going on around them, when the guy looked at her with brilliant, clear blue-sky eyes, it was enough to make her blink in shock. Damn. Dude was seriously something to look at. He had dark, curly, sweaty hair with a sprinkling of silver, and he seemed very tall.

  “Are you really?” he asked, looking her up and down.

  “Yes, move,” she said, pushing him out of the way. It was like trying to move an elephant.

  Reluctantly, he moved away, hovering over her as she leaned into the back of the car. The baby was whimpering softly, seeming a little out of it. Blood had soaked the right side of her head, into her dark hair. Her big gray eyes looked up at Olivia and she felt something in her heart
squeeze. This poor kid, whether she knew it or not, had just lost her mother. Hopefully, she had some other family that would be able to take her. Olivia glanced back at the firefighter. “Can you grab the woman’s wallet and phone? She might have an emergency contact listed somewhere.”

  Olivia gently pressed the bandage to the bleeding on the baby’s head. The wound seemed superficial. “You’re going to be okay, baby,” she crooned to her softly as she began to cry.

  Olivia didn’t want to move the baby until they had a backboard, so she just sat there and talked to her while they waited on the paramedics, holding a bandage gently to her head. The baby’s breathing seemed fine and the bleeding that the pipe had caused seemed to be easing up. Eventually, her whimpering lessened and she watched Olivia, listening to her voice.

  The built firefighter with the startling blue eyes leaned in next to her.

  “I think we can remove the car seat without removing her from it,” he said, reaching for the push button on the latch.

  She grabbed his hand. “We need to brace her head somehow.”

  He seemed to agree as well, because he pulled out of the car and disappeared. Within a few seconds, though, he was back. And he carried a thick, fluffy towel. Olivia had no idea where he’d gotten it, but she wasn’t going to complain. The man rolled the towel into a tube like a pool noodle and wrapped it around the little girl’s dark-haired head. It fit the space in the car seat perfectly, and when he reached for the latch again, she let him unfasten the belt.

  They drew the baby out of the car as they backed up, and it went more smoothly than she could’ve hoped. And as soon as the baby was out, the paramedics were there to take her. They strapped her to a gurney, car seat and all, and whisked her to an ambulance. The baby began to cry again.

  Olivia’s gaze followed their progress all the way to the emergency vehicle, and she wondered what kind of life the kid would have ahead of her. It was so sad that the child’s life would always be defined by being a crash survivor and losing her mother at the same time.

  Life was full of tragedy.

  “Thank you for the help,” the blue-eyed hero said, voice gruff.

  Olivia turned her head to look at him and her vision swam. She blinked, trying to get it to clear, but it only seemed to get worse.

  “I think…”

  Connor caught the woman as she took a long, slow-lidded blink and fell. He’d been doing this job long enough to know the signs of an impending disaster. Had to admit, though, the woman had done a lot of good, and she’d lasted longer than he’d expected.

  She had a bold, dominant personality considering her diminutive size, but it disappeared as soon as she lost consciousness. Her short blonde hair fluttered in the breeze and away from the bloody contusion on her temple. Damn, that’s a hell of a goose egg. A bandage flapped in the breeze, only connected on one side.

  As he swung her up into his arms, he realized how tiny she was. No bigger than a minute. The 5-inch large diameter firehose they used came in one-hundred-foot sections, and they weighed one hundred and two pounds, dry. He would bet his stars that this woman didn’t weigh any more than that. Turning, he looked for an available ambulance, then began walking toward the east. 73 had just pulled up. Kim Caldwell met him just outside the door and ran to open the vehicle up.

  “What have you got, Chief?”

  “She was involved in the crash somehow, but she’s medical. When I pulled up, she had already triaged three people and was helping a trapped kid. I tried to get her to slow down, but she checked on most of the people in the crash. Take good care of her, Kimmie.”

  Kimmie nodded her head. “You know I will,” she grumbled.

  Yeah, she would. She’d been one of his best students ever. And that was saying a lot.

  “Did you find the driver,” Frank asked, joining them in the back the rig.

  Connor shook his head. “Not sure yet exactly, though I have an idea. I think I saw Jack Parson’s truck smashed against the far stoplight, but I haven’t seen him yet.”

  Frank shook his gray head. “That man has used up all his nine cat lives.”

  Jack was a habitual drunk. The FD were called to his house at least once a week, and as far as Connor knew he didn’t even have a valid license. He’d lost it years ago. If he was the cause of all of this, the old man would probably be going to prison. He’d killed at least one person.

  With a wave, he headed back to the chaos. Connor knew he was incident commander. They’d been convoying to the park when the call had come in, and it was sheer luck they’d been as close as they had been.

  “Chief,” Rookie Hall skidded to a stop in front of him. “The pump on 13 is acting up again.”

  Damn it. “Grab the extinguishers we stashed in the back, then, until we can get Pumper 22 moved up.”

  “Yes, sir,” he said as he took off again.

  They controlled the scene. Only one car caught fire, and it was put out quickly. There was a smoker, but they doused it and cooled it down as well. Ambulance after ambulance hauled the injured away, and the coroner arrived to document the death of the young mother in the car.

  Jack Parsons, the owner of the red truck that had caused the pileup, was found half a block away, passed out in someone’s yard. He was very much alive and after the cops got him checked out at the hospital, Jack would go to jail. Then eventually prison. There was no doubt he’d killed that woman and injured so many others.

  The nurse haunted him. Her eyes had been a vibrant hazel, greener than brown, and she’d had a pissed off look on her face, like she was angry she was about to pass out. She’d still been beautiful, though, her face lean and lined by life. There had been character and pain, there, and he had a feeling she was an incredibly interesting woman.

  Maybe when this was all done, he’d go check on her.

  CHAPTER 2

  Olivia woke to a more than normal level of pain. It raged through her body, making her gasp in agony and shift on the bed she was lying upon. Holy hell…

  “I know it hurts,” a voice said from near her feet. “Can I get you more pain meds?”

  Olivia blinked the room into focus and saw a nurse she didn’t recognize in a too-bright room. “Where am I?”

  “You’re at the Caldwell County Hospital, Lockhart.”

  Olivia grimaced, then gasped with pain as the skin on her head pulled. Lifting a hand, she felt the bandage taped to her head.

  “You had to have some stitches put in, and you’ve got a pretty serious concussion, but you’ll be on your feet in no time.”

  The young nurse blushed and glanced down at her clipboard. Olivia thought it was odd until she flicked her gaze down the bed. Ah. Someone had taken her prosthetic off. She glanced around the room. The leg was propped against the far wall. "Maybe you can move my leg closer so that I can do that."

  The young nurse blushed again and retrieved her leg, setting it on the floor beside the bed. Olivia sat up, gritting through the pain, and waited for the world to stop spinning. There was a stitch in her side that was relentless.

  "Oh, ma'am, you shouldn't get up. Not yet," the nurse said, moving in close, hands out.

  Olivia looked up at her, scanning the ID card hanging around her neck. "What's your name? Grace? Listen, Grace, I have to pee. You did not catheterize me, so I assume the doctor wants me to get up and move at some point, which is convenient because I'm going to piss the bed if you don't get out of my way."

  She didn't realize her voice had risen until the young woman’s eyes widened and she backed away. “I need to stay, if you’re getting up,” she argued, showing some spine.

  “Then move out of the way,” Olivia sighed, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. It was taller than her own bed, so she had to shimmy to the edge of the mattress, then bend over to retrieve her leg. She was legit going to piss her pants if she didn’t get to a bathroom, and this leaning over shit was bad. She couldn’t breathe. Scraping her pant leg up, she held the fabric in her quaking fingers. Quickly, efficiently, she attached the prosthetic to her right lower leg, seating her stump into the cup as she stood, holding onto the side of the bed. Her head swam for a minute, then steadied, and she launched, heading to the corner where she assumed the bathroom to be.