Page 39 of Final Approach

“Semper Fi. Now shut up. Talking hurts.” Hank pressed a hand to his left side and ground out the words that ended on a groan.

Andrew’s smile faded. His shoulder hurt too, but complaining about it was a waste of breath.

Minutes passed where the only sounds were the rain, their steps, and harsh breathing.

Kristine caught up to him and pointed to a break in the trees. “Through there. I’m fairly sure that leads to the walking path around the lake.”

“That’s a three-mile trek.”

“Yeah, but we’re going right at the fork and James and Lainie’s place will only be another half a mile. And the good thing is, I know the door code to get in if they’re not there.”

“Perfect.” He just hoped Hank could hold out that long. Yes, the man had been a Marine, but a body could only take so much.

He checked behind them.

Nothing. He glanced at Kristine. “You think you hit him?”

“I know I did. Not sure how bad, though.” She shuddered and rain dripped from her hair to slide down her face. “How bad areyouhit?”

“A graze.” He shivered as well, feeling the cold to his bones while his shoulder was now throbbing a painful beat. But hope stirred. He recognized the area now and picked up the pace, hoping Hank would be all right. The man uttered a low groan that sounded more like a growl, but he followed Andrew’s lead and walked faster.

It seemed like an eternity passed before the house came into view, and miraculously, Hank was still on his feet. Sort of. “Not too much farther,” Andrew said.

“I’m fine. Can go another mile or two if we need it,” Hank mumbled.

“No need for that, Iron Man.”

“Dude, please, not Iron Man. He died in the end, remember?”

“Oops, right. Sorry. Captain America?”

“That’s better, I suppose.”

Incredibly enough, despite the circumstances, Andrew bit off a smile. He’d missed his friend. After the ... incident ... Andrew had pretty much cut the man out of his life, ignoring Hank’s attempts to reconnect. It was just too painful. Guilt was a strong emotion that he’d become very successful at ignoring. But right now, it was rearing its ugly head, demanding attention. With extra effort, Andrew shoved it aside. He had other things to worry about at the moment.

Kristine hurried ahead of them, still clutching her gun, gaze intent on the area around them. She was in full protector mode, and quite honestly, it was a sight to behold. She was magnificent.

Hank stumbled and Andrew grabbed him with a short silent order to himself to pay attention. Knowing Kristine was being so vigilant allowed him not to beat himself up about his momentary lapse.

Two minutes later, they were inside with the door locked. “There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom,” she said. “In the linen closet, second shelf from the bottom.”

“Thanks.” Andrew maneuvered Hank to the hall bathroom while Kristine made a beeline to the kitchen to look for the sat phone.

Hank lowered himself to the toilet with a groan and dropped his chin to his chest. His shudders had turned into the shakes. “Sorry, man, I might need to lay down for a minute.”

“Can you let me help you get out of those wet clothes?”

Hank lifted his head and shot him a perturbed look. “I got it if you can find me something to put on.”

Andrew raised a brow, thinking his friend was optimistic about his abilities right now. “You’re shaking too hard to do much.”

“I got it.” The words were low but firm.

“Fine, but if you pass out on me and hit your head again, I’m not going to be happy with you.”

Hank simply stared at him.

Andrew rolled his eyes and slipped out of the bathroom. Maybe all that stubbornness would get the man through the next few painful minutes. His throbbing arm reminded him he needed the first aidkit too. But he’d let Hank do what he needed. In the meantime, he forced himself to walk into the master bedroom. It felt like such an invasion of his friends’ privacy, but he knew if they were aware of the situation, they’d insist he do exactly what he was doing.