Page 100 of Out of Control

“In the flesh. I’m just gonna check you for wounds, sir. You’re acting like maybe you’re losing blood somewhere.”

“I’m fine. Gotta go get Drago. My radio’s busted—”

“Sit. You’ll pass out if you try to stand. Ahh. Here it is.” Suddenly Cormac was shoving him backward onto the ground and pressing something against his hip. Hard.

“Wound’s not bad, but you’ve got a bleeder in there. Gonna insert an inflatable field dressing. I’m told this hurts like a motherfucker.”

“But Drago—”

“The other guys have his back. He’ll be fine. He’s one fast mofo.”

Without warning, fiery agony exploded just to the side of his left hipbone. He sucked in a sharp breath and started panting hard as his platoon’s medic injected little foam balls coated in coagulants into the wound. They would inflate on contact with blood.

“Stay with me, Spencer.”

“Fuck fuck fuck.”

“Yup. That’s about how it feels.” A light flashed briefly toward his hip. “Better. Bleeding’s slowed to barely a trickle.”

“Let me up. Gotta get my partner—”

“Will youstop?” The big man planted a hand in the middle of his chest and forcibly held him down. Cormac reached for his throat mike. “Please, for the love of God, tell me you’ve got Drago in custody.”

Cormac listened intently for a few seconds and then broke into a big grin.

“Well?” Spencer demanded.

“Affirmative. They’re all chasing down some dude who fled from the vehicles. Your guy’s leading the charge, even with a shot-up leg. Badass.”

“What channel are you guys on?” he bit out.

“Three.”

Quickly, Spencer yanked the headset off the medic and pressed the earpiece to his ear. He jammed his finger against the mike button. “Report, goddammit.”

“Target down.”

Spencer sagged back against the ground until another voice said, “Uhh, the other dude, the CIA guy, just went down.”

Spencer lurched, and again Cormac pinned him. Spencer looked up at his teammate in anguish, and Cormac took the headset back, transmitting tersely, “At all costs, donotlet the CIA man die.”

“I’m on it,” a voice said.

“Jasper Jenrette is taking care of your buddy,” Cormac reported. “Best medic on the whole team. Your guy’s in good hands.”

“I can’t lose him,” Spencer whispered.

Into his microphone, Cormac said, “Report when able, Jasper.”

Spencer listened as Cormac relayed to him, “Multiple gunshot wounds, but nothing life-threatening. Fainted from blood loss. They’ve got a bag of O negative going into him now. He’s already coming around. We’ll patch him up before we move him.”

Spencer did faint, then.

DRAGO BLINKEDup at three grim-faced men staring back at him. “Who are you?” he rasped.

“Friends. Your buddy Charles called us. He said our boss could use a little backup.” A shrug. “So we came. Spencer’s family.”

“He’ll be glad to hear that.” Full awareness of his surroundings slammed back into his brain. “Jabril Hamza. His men—”