Page 115 of Fatal Intent

“Seth’s right,” Andre said. “Grant should go.”

“Why?” Elias demanded.

“He and the four soldiers who went off the grid were friends.”

“I still think all of us should go,” Iona said. “We’re all in Donovan’s crosshairs because we’re involved with Echo unit. If we don’t go in guns blazing and dressed for war, we shouldn’t trigger an aggressive response. If Donovan is around, he won’t be able to resist targeting at least one of us. Maybe with the team there, we’ll have a better chance of tracking and taking him down.”

The other operatives nodded.

Teagan slipped her arm around her husband’s waist. “I think you’re outvoted, love. Give in gracefully.”

Seth shrugged. “Let’s go.”

The operatives climbed into their SUVs. Minutes later, the caravan turned toward Addison, where the fishing camp was located.

Andre glanced in the rearview mirror at Grant. “We have about an hour’s drive ahead of us. Take advantage of it.”

“I could use a nap,” he admitted.

“What’s your pain level?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Oh, no. Rayne reached over the backseat and grabbed her Go bag. She found the small bag of pain meds and gave one to Grant along with a bottle of water.

After he swallowed the medicine, Grant settled back in the seat and went to sleep.

Rayne breathed easier. Hopefully, the medicine would do its job by the time they reached the camp. An hour later, Andre parked beside Seth’s SUV in the shadows of the forest near the fishing camp.

Grant woke the moment the engine shut off and glanced around. “How far are we from the fishing camp?”

“Quarter of a mile.” Andre released his seatbelt. “You up for a hike?”

“I will be if you have athletic trainer’s tape in your Go bag.”

“Lucky for you, I never leave home without it.” Andre opened the driver’s door and went to the cargo area to open the hatchback. He rummaged in his bag for a moment, then came around to the back door.

Grant exited the vehicle and turned to help Rayne. When he faced Andre, his teammate said, “Lift your shirt.”

Andre applied strips of trainer’s tape near Grant’s wounds. “I don’t know if this will work for a gunshot wound.”

“I have to try. I need to be at least 90%. At the moment, I’m at 50% and that’s not good enough.”

Seth and the others approached. “What’s going on?” Iona asked.

“Taping near Grant’s wound to give him more support.”

Seth frowned. “Are you sure you’re up for this, Grant? There’s no shame in sitting this one out.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted.

Rayne watched him as Andre circled around to Grant’s back and applied more tape. Grant flinched a few times as his teammate pressed the tape into place.

Minutes later, their friend stepped back and surveyed his handiwork. “That’s the best I can do.”

Grant paced a few feet away and returned. “The tape helps. Thanks, man.”

“Remember, don’t yank the tape off. It has to be wet or you’ll take a layer of skin along with the tape.”