The Boss Assignment (Rogue Protectors Book 3) by Victoria Paige (summer beach reads .TXT) 📕

glanced at Sandra. “Dr. Bennett and I are taking the second trailer.”

“Who put you in-charge?” Sandra asked, annoyance in her tone.

Bristow didn’t answer her but was already meeting the second trailer, flagging them down.

“Sandra, we got this one,” Charly stressed to her colleague and followed the ginger-haired SEAL. She’d been on lighter duty anyway because her wrists were bothering her.

The doors to the trailer swung open and a gurney was being lowered by bioterrorism-suited EMTs. Charly’s words stuck in her throat.

A mask covered the patient’s face, but she was sure it was Renata.

A Renata who Charly had never seen this disheveled. Devoid of makeup. Eyes swollen.

“Was she sedated?” Bristow asked.

“Yes. She was hysterical. We had no choice.”

“Vitals?”

“Temp 102. Blood pressure elevated,” one of the EMTs rattled off. The gurney was enclosed in an isolation pod—an airtight flexible plastic bio-containment apparatus outfitted with eight reach-in gloves around its enclosure much like how a glovebox worked.

“Take her to room 312,” Charly told them.

She was about to follow the crew when the former SEAL held her back. Looking at him questioningly, dread became lead at the pit of her stomach. “You said Antonio was fine.” The pitch of her voice rose.

“He is.”

“Then why do you look—”

“Charly, Luis is dead,” Bristow said quietly.

The anxiety in her gut roiled. “Luis is here?”

“It’s fucked up,” he continued, face grim. “They streamed his execution live.”

“I don’t understand.” Her mind rejected what Bristow was telling her. “How …?” Tears scalded her eyes. “Luis?” She wanted to remove her head covering because sucking in enough oxygen was becoming a problem. “Luis is dead?” Her legs threatened to buckle.

“Antonio …” This would destroy him. A large part of her wanted to leave this place and go to him.

“He’s not taking it well,” Bristow admitted.

Charly sucked in deep breaths and rearranged priorities in her head. Antonio was fine physically, and she had a duty to this hospital. The sooner she got the job done, the sooner she could go to him.

Charly instructed the nurses of the biocontainment floor to check the vitals and take blood samples from their new patients. She had spied Dr. Fournier—their LA CDC director—talking with officers from Homeland Security.

Where were Garrison and Antonio? The detectives? She was surprised they were not haunting the lobby between the biocontainment wings. She couldn’t check her messages due to protocol that all personal items had to be stored in the locker room. She had no idea how Bristow was getting his information, but he was, and she wasn’t complaining.

This Z-9 series virus threat had escalated with six probable cases. Even if it was man-made and there was an antiviral, Charly wouldn’t say they were out of the woods yet especially with the perpetrators still at large, intent on virus mutations and committing acts of terror.

She walked back to where Renata was being prepared for her tests. Each room had an antechamber. She checked the negative air pressure in the room before she went into it. When she entered the room, Renata was indeed awake. Two nurses were getting her comfortable, but she was staring blankly at the wall, a tear running down her cheek.

Renata’s face crumpled when she saw her.

“Luis is dead,” she cried. “They killed him, Charly.”

Charly went to her side and clasped her hand. “I’m so sorry. Luis was a good man.” Her own tears flowed, and it was good that her suit had enough air circulation so the shield wouldn’t fog.

“Antonio blames me.”

“I’m sure he’s just in shock,” she assured Renata.

“I blame myself,” she continued babbling. “I knew Pierre was the one who wanted to frame Antonio, that I let myself get manipulated by him.” She gave a bitter laugh. “And I’m supposed to be the queen of manipulations. Oh, Luis.” She broke down again and cried. “If Antonio never forgives me, it’ll be my fault. And then I will have no one left.”

“Renata,” Charly called. When it appeared the woman was in her own personal hell, she repeated her name more loudly. “Renata.”

Her crying subsided to sniffles. She looked at Charly through bloodshot eyes.

“Do you know if you and the others have Ebola?”

“Probably,” she said. “A pill was forced down my throat by some asshole.”

“Does he have any distinguishing features?” It must’ve been Lev Skoryk.

“He had a mask on,” she said in recollection. “I don’t even remember how I was taken.” She shuddered on an exhale.

“Don’t exert yourself,” Charly said. “Someone will interview you soon. My job is to get you better if you have the virus, all right?”

The other woman gave a small smile. “The antiviral you’re working on is effective?”

“I’m confident it is. We’ll do a quick reactive test as well as draw your blood. Please cooperate okay?”

Renata gave an infinitesimal nod of her head.

Charly blew out a breath. “I need to check on the others.”

Luis was dead.

Antonio would forever replay the scene of his friend being gunned down in front of him. And he would forever hear these words taunting him.

“Next time, make it a head shot.”

He squeezed his eyes closed. The gunman shot Luis in his left temple and the force threw him and the chair on its side.

“I’m sorry, Antonio.” The voice on the speaker phone was Martinez. “When we got there, it was all over. Our CSI team is sweeping the area.” He doubted they would find anything. If that was indeed Jacaré in league with Lev Skoryk, they had proven they were excellent at covering their tracks. But how were they linked?

They were in a war room of the LAPD with detectives Kelso and Woodward. Nadia, Roarke, and Garrison were also in the room. They were waiting for Bristow to bring Charly, and with her, the initial findings about Renata and the others who were found in that house.

He had complicated feelings for Renata. It was a good thing Antonio couldn’t see her just yet because he wouldn’t know what to say to her. The detectives couldn’t wait to interview her.

And Charly? An unusual feeling of loss twisted