Page 69 of Covert Mission
“What’s in them?” Belle asks as she takes a seat on a rock. She stretches her legs out and moans. “Sorry, my feet are killing me from standing so much today.”
I shift on my feet. I’m tired too, but I feel guilty sitting down while the men are digging. I don’t share this with Belle, because I don’t blame her for wanting to rest. It could be a long night.
I try to refocus on the conversation and not on the unease that’s gnawing at me. “What’s in the crates?”
Brian fidgets with his hat. He’s nervous about something. His stress is in his tone too. “They have weird labels. Just some symbols. Our company logo is on the side. I was actually wondering why you had them loaded.”
I stiffen and glance at Belle. “I didn’t have them loaded.”
She harrumphs. Her forehead creases as she looks at the three of us. “Who did, then?”
I wrack my brain for the loading roster. It’s my job to know exactly what’s deployed, used, and returned. The financial documentation falls on me.
“I thought they were on the regular supply list.”
“Oh, that kind of box is always on the truck.” Pembrook scratches at his head and studies the toes of his boot. “You know, come to think of it, I’ve never opened one that looks like that. I’ve seen them, but I’ve never actually used what’s in them. Never needed what’s inside. I guess William used to request them.”
His last remark makes me perk up. William is the man I replaced. I never met him, but I have a file on him.
“What would William have wanted in the inventory that is different from what we normally use?”
“Good question.” Belle looks up at the night sky as she thinks. “I’ve never thought about that?—”
A voice crackles over a nearby radio. “Command, come in. Over.”
Everyone freezes and spins toward the speaker sitting on a nearby table.
The call comes through again. “Command, this is Rescue Unit Three. Can you hear me? Over.”
A man wearing a white hard hat and a blue jumpsuit rushes to the earthquake team’s tent. It’s the supervisor that Beast pointed out earlier. He hunkers down in front of a complex-looking communication system.
My insides squeeze.
Please let it be good news.
“Command here. Proceed with SITREP, Unit Three. Over.”
“There’s been a collapse. Multiple injuries. Minor and serious. Requesting the medics STAT. Over.”
ChapterTwenty
It’s easy to spot the medic under the emergency lighting. His red and white jumpsuit is bristling with reflective tape.
“Over here!” I raise a hand and wave to him.
The stout-looking man scrambles toward me with a medical bag. It takes time for him to work his way over the uneven pile of debris.
“What’ve you got?”
“A crush injury.”
He kneels down and gets right to work. First, he scans the guy’s bloodied lower leg. Then feels the femur and the pelvis for other injuries. “Just the lower leg?”
“Affirmative,” I reply.
“We’ll splint and stabilize it, then move to the medical tent.” He calls over the radio for a stretcher.
Getting out will be challenging. But it’s clear this isn’t his first rodeo. He’s swift and concise with his movements as he places a splint around the wound.