Within moments of Faith leaving, the nurse who’d brought Julia a cup of coffee entered the waiting room. “Is there news? Is Miguel out of surgery?”
“Not yet, Agent Washburn. However, I was able to learn that Agent Rivera is holding his own.”
Only a tiny ripple of relief swept through Julia. “Any idea when he’ll be out of surgery?” Out of danger, too, hopefully.
“No,” the nurse replied with a note of regret in her tone. “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something. Are you hungry? I could make a call to food services for you.”
Julia shook her head. Her stomach was still queasy, and the coffee hadn’t helped. “No, thank you.”
“A bottle of water, perhaps?”
“Yes, please.”
“Be right back.”
As time dragged by, Julia paced and drank water, paced and drank more water until the bottle was empty and so was she. Physically spent and emotionally drained, she dropped into a chair. Julia texted everyone an update before her eyes drooped and closed of their own volition.
“Julia.”
Her name spoken softly in a deep tenor, with just a trace of an Italian accent, and a hand on her shoulder gently shaking her startled Julia awake. Her hand automatically reached for her service weapon but fell away when she recognized the visitor.
Luca Martinelli’s familiar face almost brought Julia to tears. She rose to her feet, and he engulfed her in a bear hug.
“Luca,” she murmured. “Miguel will be relieved to see you.”
“I received your last text. No news?”
“No. And I’m scared. He’s been in surgery for hours?—”
Julia broke off as one of the trauma surgeons, dressed in fresh green scrubs and a white lab coat, joined them. From the serious expression on his face, she surmised the worst. Her knees went weak. Luca slipped an arm around her to hold her steady.
“Agent Washburn? Hi, I’m Dr. Solomon. I’m head of the trauma surgical unit here at Central Alabama Hospital.” He held out his hand to shake hers and Luca’s.
“Yes, hi, Dr. Solomon. This is Agent Luca Martinelli.”
Dr. Solomon nodded a solemn acknowledgement.
“How’s Miguel?” Luca got right to the point.
“The bullet, as you’re aware, did not exit Agent Rivera’s body, and as a result, caused some major internal damage and blood loss. It’s a good thing you stanched his bleeding; otherwise, it might have been much worse. We repaired the damage. He’s critical but stable in ICU.”
Gratitude surged through Julia, but she still clung to Luca for support. “May we see him?”
“Only one of you at a time for no more than fifteen minutes.”
Julia nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Solomon.” He left and she turned to Luca. “You go first. When Miguel regains consciousness, he’ll want to see someone familiar from home.”
Luca offered a smile that she deemed paternal, and she didn’t know if she should be offended by it. “Trust me, Julia. Miguel would rather seeyou. You’ve been waiting and worrying for hours.”
They rode an elevator to the third floor. The doors slid open into an immaculate and pleasant area. As they strode toward the nurse’s station, they passed a dimly lit chapel. Luca stopped.
“You go ahead, Julia. I’m going to light a candle for Miguel and pray for him.”
Julia approached the circular nurses’ station and identified herself. “Dr. Solomon said it was okay for me to see Agent Rivera.”
“Yes, Agent Washburn. I’m Sonia, the lead night shift nurse. Follow me.”
Sonia led Julia to the second glass-encased ICU cubicle across from the nurses’ station. Her heart plummeted when she saw Miguel. He lay as pale and still as death. His chest barely registered his breathing. An IV drip attached to a vein in his arm pumped fluids and medication into him, and a monitor kept track of his heart rate. It was so low that Julia had to bite her lip to keep from gasping aloud.
