Page 25 of Fighting for Julia (Laguna Beach Cops #6)
ALICEVILLE, ALABAMA
Miguel and Julia
The morning that Miguel was scheduled to be released from the hospital, he woke up with a massive headache.
He kept his discomfort from the nurse tending to him and from Julia, who had arrived at dawn.
As the morning waned and they waited for Miguel’s discharge papers, his headache grew worse, followed by a spike in his temperature and chills, dizziness, and nausea.
His new symptoms threw Julia into a panic.
“No, no, no! This can’t be happening!” she exclaimed. “Not today. Not when you were doing so well.”
Julia left him long enough to track down his nurse who entered his hospital room with a portable blood pressure machine. She donned a mask and gloves and encouraged Julia to do the same.
“Please keep your distance, Agent Washburn, until we figure out if Officer Rivera’s wound is infected or if this is something else,” the nurse advised.
She wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Miguel’s upper arm and stuck a thermometer under his tongue while the machine registered his vitals.
When they appeared on the monitor, Miguel’s heart sank.
He hid his dismay behind a neutral expression.
Blood pressure one forty over ninety. Temperature one hundred and two.
His nurse, Shelby, lifted the T-shirt he’d changed into in anticipation of his release and examined his wound. “It’s not infected. I’ll call Dr. Solomon and request bloodwork.”
When Shelby left, Julia moved closer, but Miguel raised his hand. “Stay back, Julia. I think I know what this is.”
“The flu?”
“No. Covid. I’ve had it once already and recognize the symptoms.”
“Oh, God, Miguel. You could be laid up for days.”
“Maybe not. I had a mild case of it before.”
Julia frowned with doubt and worry. “I don’t know?—”
Shelby returned with a rapid Covid test and paraphernalia to take his blood. She swabbed his nose, which caused his eyes to water, then drew three vials of blood.
“Dr. Solomon put a rush on these labs, so we should have some answers fairly soon. In the meantime, he wants to start you on an aggressive round of antibiotics and Tylenol to take down your fever. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Julia took a couple steps toward the bed. “I wish I could hold your hand right now.” Her voice was soft, tremulous.
“I wish I could kiss you right now.”
Her deep brown eyes shone with a light as soft as her voice. “I’d risk catching Covid just to kiss you.”
Miguel grinned. “That’s devotion.”
Shelby interrupted their gentle flirting with news.
Her eyes above her mask revealed it first. “The rapid test indicates you have Covid. We’re still waiting on your labs to confirm it.
” She handed Miguel a tiny plastic cup with two horse-sized pills and two Tylenol tablets.
“We’re getting you started on those antibiotics I mentioned.
Unfortunately, this prevents you from being discharged today. ”
Miguel swallowed the medication. “How long will I have to stay?”
“Ideally, you should stay until you’re no longer testing positive.
You have a tough fight with it due to your surgery and weakened immune system.
But I imagine Dr. Solomon will release you after your fever dissipates, and you’ve been on the antibiotics for a few days.
” Shelby excused herself to tend to other patients.
Miguel punched the bed with his fist. “Nothing is going the way I’d like it to right now. Could this situation get any worse?”
Julia opened her mouth to say something, but her cell phone dinged with a notification.
“It’s Tex. He says the fishing boat captain has returned alive.
” She laughed. “The captain told quite a story about Axis and Axalia stowing aboard his boat and his tossing them overboard near Mexico’s coastline. Seems like he’s former military.”
“So, what are the chances they survived?”
“Oh, they survived. I’d bet my last dollar on it. And we need to be prepared. Get some sleep, Miguel. I have things to do.”
Miguel knew from his previous experience with Covid that resting was his only option, but he chafed at the inactivity and the delay in finding and apprehending the Andersons. Next time, he silently vowed, they wouldn’t get the jump on him. Next time, he’d drop them in their tracks.
He wanted to hear his friends’ voices and ask their advice but didn’t want to bother them.
Justice and the team would be on the campaign trail for another week before taking a break and regrouping.
By then he hoped the Andersons would either be in custody or dead, and he’d be able to join the others.
Finally, he closed his eyes and slept.
By noon, Miguel’s blood pressure had dropped within a normal range, but his temperature was still high. Covid gripped him fully now with chills and aching joints and muscles. He hadn’t lost his sense of smell or taste this time, but he could only tolerate soup and hot tea.
Julia had returned and stayed the obligatory six feet away from him.
She’d never caught it during the pandemic and outbreaks of different strains that followed.
She was supposedly one of those who were naturally immune to it.
Shelby, however, had warned her not to violate protocol, or Julia would be banned from the hospital.
Besides, they were already breaking strict rules by allowing her to visit Miguel.
He noticed she had exchanged his duffel bag for a backpack. “It frees up our hands,” Julia explained. “I packed a few surprises, too.”
“You really believe Axis and Axalia survived? That they’ll come after us?”
“My gut is screaming with forewarning. I don’t think they’ll come themselves. I think it’ll be General Escobar’s men who attack us. But we’re prepared, Miguel. Trust me.”
He did. With his life.
Two days later Miguel’s health had improved.
He no longer suffered from fever and chills.
His appetite had increased, providing his body with much-needed sustenance, and, in turn, augmenting his strength.
Though he still tested positive for Covid, his discharge was imminent since he was ambulatory and displayed no respiratory distress.
Miguel sat in the hard vinyl recliner and swapped childhood memories with Julia, who lounged on the couch a safe distance from him. The more he learned about her the more she engaged his broken heart.
After a while they fell silent and listened to the hard patter of rain on the hospital’s roof. Lightning struck. The lights went out, plunging the room into darkness. When they didn’t come back on, when the generator didn’t kick in, Miguel murmured, “Oh, shit.”
Both leaped to their feet. The silence in the corridor alarmed them. Then, pop! Pop!
“We have to get out of here.” Julia pulled a canister from the backpack and slung it across her shoulders.
They wore scrubs and masks to blend in with hospital personnel. Miguel peered into the corridor. His blood froze. Figures dressed in black from head to toe were systematically going into the rooms. Some patients managed to scream before they were silenced forever.
“Let’s go,” Miguel ordered.
Julia passed his gun to him, and he went first into the corridor.
She popped open the canister and tossed it behind them.
It created a smokescreen as they slipped away and moved with cautious urgency toward the emergency exit.
They heard angry shouts behind them and broke into a sprint.
Bullets whizzed past them as they turned sharply to their right and burst through the emergency door.
In the stairwell, they encountered two men in black who raised their AK-47s too late. Miguel and Julia fired their Glocks at the same time, and the men pitched backward down the stairs, stark dead. Without a word, they grabbed the AK-47s and rounds of ammunition and rushed down the stairs.
Two floors below them, more men spilled into the stairwell. Their shots went wild as Miguel and Julia riddled them with bullets and continued their descent. On the ground floor, they exited the hospital through the last emergency door…and met a contingency of men in black.
Gunfire erupted and flashed in the darkness. Rain soaked them.
“Jesus Christ!” Miguel swore. “Did General Escobar send his entire army to attack us?”
They crouched behind a parked car. Bullets pinged off it. Miguel raised his head and fired. Another man dropped to the wet pavement.
“We need a distraction!” Julia yelled.
“Smoke won’t work in this rain!”
“I have another surprise!” She removed a pair of hand grenades from the backpack. “Get ready to run like hell toward the car. It’s parked about a hundred feet to our left.”
Julia pulled the pins and tossed the grenades into the middle of the men. The double explosion shook the earth. Screams pierced the air.
“Run!” Julia grabbed Miguel’s hand, and they dashed toward the car.
It automatically unlocked as they drew near to it. Footsteps pounded behind them. Bullets hit the chassis.
“Go! Go!” Miguel commanded.
Julia shifted into reverse, spun the wheel, changed gears again, pressed the gas pedal, and peeled out of the parking lot. Neither relaxed until they were well out of sight of the hospital.
“Where to now, Miguel?” Julia asked. “We can’t go to the hotel where I’ve been staying. If General Escobar found us at the hospital, he’ll know about the hotel, too.”
Miguel pondered the situation. If he joined Justice on the campaign trail, he risked bringing danger to everyone. The same applied to Julia if she returned to Virginia. No. There was only one option. Only one place he knew they’d be safe.
“We’re going home,” he declared. “Home to Laguna Beach.”
“That’s your home,” Julia pointed out in a soft voice.
“Exactly. Hutch’s wife, SAC Jiena Cofield, is there with a whole team of FBI agents. Brielle and Finnigan are there, too. We’ll be able to regroup while I get over this damn Covid.” A cough rose in his chest as if to punctuate his point. He also shivered.
She did, too. Her hair was plastered to her face. “Let’s change out of these wet clothes at the nearest gas station. In the meantime, book us a flight to Laguna Beach.”