The Navy's Ghost (Bad Boys of Beta Squad) (2 page)

She opened her eyes
again, but she couldn’t quite focus on the array of white uniforms standing before her. The first stood small and delicate with a stethoscope snaking around the shoulders. The other had height and breadth with an oil slick of iridescent color from all the ribbons plastered on the left side.
Wow, the fruit salad is really pretty.

“
Thank you, Ensign. I’ll remember that.” The man dipped his head with a smile.

Crap! Did she say
it out loud? She snapped her mouth shut and tried to focus on the present. She blinked a couple of times and shoved the pain in her leg to the back of her mind as she lifted her chin.
Focus, focus, focus!

“Yes, sir. What can I do for you, sir?”

Lt. Commander Tom “Whistler” Whittleton stood to one side of her bed while the female doctor stood on the other. Their eyes showed a mixture of pity and sorrow, though they both gave her their best encouraging smiles.

“How are you feeling?”
Whistler asked.

“Fine, sir.”

Whistler nodded, but his mouth fell out of his smile. Unease crept through her. She lay in a hospital room…
Dear God, how badly am I wounded?

“Where am I?” she
asked, turning her gaze to the woman. “Doctor?”

“You’re at
Coronado Medical Center. Do you remember getting shot?”

Memory cleared and she recalled the bullet rippi
ng through her leg. She saw Magic’s face over her again, wearing the horrible tight expression. She remembered growing so cold and exhaustion setting in.

“Yes, ma’am
.” SEAL ops were too sensitive to go into detail with anyone other than her CO.

“
Excellent, Ensign. Unfortunately, the bullet ripped through the femoral artery in your left leg and fractured the bone. On the flip side, your chief warrant officer managed to clamp the artery enough for you to make it to surgery.”

Chris
’s heart rate increased again.
Oh, my God.
Her eyes dropped to the form of her body beneath the bedcovers. One leg rose higher than the other against the sheet. Cast? Bandages? She tried to move and pain roared through her, overwhelming her usual calm.

“Are you al
l right, Ensign?” Whittleton’s voice came from far away.

Why did
anyone ask her that question? No, she’d never be all right again. If she’d sustained damage to her leg, it translated to destruction of her career as a SEAL. She wanted to scream at the stupid man standing,
standing
, there so calmly.
Lock it down, Brickman. Whittleton doesn’t ask stupid questions. But what the hell do I tell him?
She swallowed her grief and kept the irritation off her face.

“As well as could be expected, sir.
Is there any prognosis on my condition, ma’am?” She returned her attention to the doctor, scanning her name badge. Meecham, Katherine A.

“
If the swelling goes down and there’s no infection, you should be able to begin walking therapy in two weeks.” Meecham’s expression remained encouraging though she’d lost her smile. “You should be able to walk fairly well and even run, but the warrant officer did so much damage to get to your artery, you’ll always have a bit of a limp.”

Chris digested the news, ignoring the grief screaming for acknowledgement.
Focus, keep it together.
She wanted to howl, to blame Magic for breaking her leg, but in the end, she’d been dumb enough to follow the contact into a blind spot. The responsibility for this fell on her.

“Yes, ma’am. I understand. How soon will I be able to return to active duty?”

Meecham bit her lip and glanced up at Whittleton. Chris’s CO took a deep breath and looked her over carefully. She hoped she hid the grief ripping through her.

When he said nothing, Meecham cleared her throat. “There’s a lot that needs to happen before then.” She glanced down at her clipboard. “There’s two weeks of bed rest to heal from your surgery. If the muscles and bone have knitted enough, you’ll be cleared for physical therapy.” Meecham raised her gaze and hit Chris with a stern look. “How long it takes is up to you and your willingness to follow the therapist’s orders, but I’d say you’re looking at six months of recovery.”

Six months. After six months she’d be so out of phase with her squad, it’d be like being a rookie all over again. They waited for her to respond, but she couldn’t think of anything to say.

“What this means in the long run is you won’t be back in the Teams. You’ll be awarded the Purple Heart and be assigned restrictive duty until you have a clean bill of health.”
Whittleton’s gaze filled with sympathy.

And there it is.
Chris’s throat closed, but she forced air through it anyway. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“I’m sorry,
Ensign.”

She didn’t want his pity.
“Yes, sir.”

Chris
wished she could crawl back into unconsciousness to escape the horror of her new life, but her visitors appeared to have no intention of leaving. The pain in her leg spiked and added to the general misery assailing her mind. At least they hadn’t court-martialed her for her stupidity in the warehouse.

“There is some good news.” She
met Whittleton’s gaze, his sympathy underlying the words.

“There is, sir?” Damn, had her voice cracked? She needed some water. She quickly scanned the room, but she found nothing, not even a vase of flowers.

“Yes. As soon as Master Chief Castle heard you were injured, he put in the request for you to be transferred to the Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training facility here. He wants you as an instructor as soon as you’re fully recovered.”

The
lieutenant commander waited for her reaction and Chris struggled to find coherence.

“An instructor, sir?”
Is he serious?

“Yes, training the new BUD/S recruits
.”

Chris’s mind shifted to
Master Chief Castle.
He requested me?
Surprise slid through her, pushing back the pain a little. The master chief had never given any indication he valued the “Little Navy Jane” in all the time she’d been there. Last she’d seen him, he’d saluted her ironically as he’d pinned her new ribbons to her chest. As the chief instructor for the BUD/S training in Coronado, he chose who would serve under him and it was a short list. She’d never been able to read him even after leaving his ‘tender mercies’ four years earlier.

“Are you sure, sir?”

“Pardon, Ensign?” Whittleton blinked.

“Do you think it’s a good idea for me to be an instructor, sir?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I’m a woman, sir. It was bad enough when I was a recruit. Do you see the new recruits, green and cocky for being chosen for BUD/S training, taking a woman instructor seriously, sir?”

“Why wouldn’t they, Brickman?”

She said nothing for a long time.

“Are you afraid, Ensign?” Whittleton demanded.

“Sorry, sir?”

“I said, are you afraid of some green and cocky recruits?”

“No, sir, I’m not afraid.”

“Good to hear, Ensign. As soon as you’re cleared for physical therapy, you’ll start your rehabilitation and Instructor’s school. You’ll learn the ropes from Command Master Chief Castle though you still report to me.”

“Aye aye,
Lt. Commander, sir.”

The door to her room opened and a female nurse entered the room. The
others turned at the interruption, giving Chris a chance to hide the enormous wave of pain sweeping through her. She clamped her lips together to keep from mewling piteously, but the agony in her leg overrode her defenses. Whittleton had to leave soon before she disgraced herself in front of him.

Dr. Meecham cleared her throat and nodded to the nurse.
“Now, then, Ensign, I’m sure you’re feeling plenty of pain so we’ll take your vitals and give you a dose of Dilaudid.”

Chris frowned. “I’m not familiar with that one, Doc. What is it?”

“It’s hydromorphine, sort of like morphine on steroids,” the doctor said with an endearing smile. “It might burn going in, but you’ll be glad of its effects in a couple of minutes. It will also make you sleepy, but rest is really the best thing for you at this point, anyway.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Let’s talk about your injury a little so you know what you’ll be facing.”

That didn’t sound good, but Chris nodded and tried to focus through the pain.
“You were very lucky, Ensign. Somehow your medic managed to grab your femoral artery and clamp it shut before you bled out. You have him to thank for your heartbeat. The bullet slashed through the arterial wall and lodged in the bone, cracking it. Fortunately, the artery wasn’t completely severed.” She paused and glanced at the chart as if choosing her words carefully.

“However, the bone is another matter. We got the bullet out and the fracture is clean, but
as I said, it will take at least two weeks of bed rest before you can even think of walking on it. It could take up to four. The good news is you’ll be able to walk and even run in a few months with a careful exercise regimen and physical therapy.”

“
But I’ll always have a limp.”

Meecham
’s eyes narrowed. “It’s a possibility, Ensign. It all depends on how much you’re willing to put into recuperation and restrengthening.”

“I’ll put my all into it, ma’am.
” Hell yeah, she would. She’d be damned before she let the naysayers ever win.
Hooyah.

“Yes, I think you will, but
it also means really resting. No pushing yourself before your leg’s ready. If you do, you could destroy any progress you’ve made.” Meecham shot Chris her own firm look. “I know SEALs, Ensign Brickman. I know how they think. Bed rest and a lot of it is the only way you get out of this injury even close to your original condition. Trust me.”

Chris
let her expression slide into the patented SEAL stoicism. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, let’s take a look at your leg.”

The energy in the room shifted into sparkling tension and Chris swallowed back her dread.

The
nurse lifted the blankets on the left side of the bed, exposing her stabilized leg. A blue nylon leg brace encased her from hip to ankle with metal stabilizing rods bent at the knee. The nurse expertly tore the Velcro straps apart and the sound made Chris wince.

They carefully pulled the brace away and
slowly cut through the bandages along the outside of her leg. Chris cringed at the scissors sliding along her skin. She had the irrational fear they’d slip and gouge her.
Breathe, Brickman
. The nurse easily maneuvered the snips down the length and soon they peeled back the bandage.

Whittleton raised his chin and swallowed hard in horrifi
ed silence.

Chris’
s leg wounds resembled those from a shark attack. Jagged tears in her skin and muscle showed angry red around the central wound where the bullet had entered. Blue and purple bruises stretched all over her thigh, some in the form of handprints where someone had grabbed her. The edges of the tears blushed pink with healing and the doctor grunted with apparent satisfaction. No stranger to ragged wounds or torn skin, Chris still held back tears and repeated her own personal mantra to keep from crying out in despair.

Fear is the mind ki
ller. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the mind killer.

“
Spectacular, isn’t it?” the doctor remarked and Chris almost laughed at the outraged expression on Whittleton’s face despite her own dismay.

“The reason it looks so bad is your medic had to cut you open to get to the artery before it was
too late. He saved your life, though it looks bad now. However, everything is healing cleanly and the last CT scan of your leg showed the artery functioning correctly.”

“
That’s
healing cleanly?” Whittleton shot a look of amazement at the woman.

“Yes, L
t. Commander.” Meecham gave him a half smile. “We’re going to clean it, rebandage it, and take a look again tomorrow. It should be healing and itching like crazy in a few days. Don’t touch it.” She leveled a motherly finger at Chris.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The doctor’s face smoothed into a real smile. “Good. Let’s get you cleaned up and resting.”

The
process of cleaning and bandaging her injured leg tested Chris’s endurance, but she’d be damned before she’d show weakness in front of her commanding officer. She’d done Hell Week. This wasn’t nearly so bad.

No, this is damn near worse!

Chris counted the ceiling tiles in a vain attempt to ignore the pain until they reattached the leg brace. Dr. Meecham told her they’d up her calcium intake as well as continue the Dilaudid drip for the next week while her muscles healed.

As if she read Chris’s mind, Dr
. Meecham laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You got a second chance, Ensign. Don’t squander it, okay?”