Simon
“Can you make the shot?” Sam asks beside him from her position laying on the ground on the crest of the hill acting as his spotter.
“Yes, I just need him to turn slightly.”
“Be careful,” she warns. “If you can’t get it, don’t. Cory’s on his way down there. You and Cory already got all the other ones and their vehicles. You got the one down there with her. Parker’s all that’s left.”
“This is my sister,” he says with deadly intent.
“I know,” she whispers.
“She’s limping,” he notices. “She’s hurt. He’s dragging her further.”
“Wait,” she says, spying through the night-vision binoculars. “He’s turning. He’s shouting. I can’t hear him.”
“He’s using her as bait. Cory must be down there close. He must’ve told him to let her go.”
Simon watches through his long-range scope as Parker man-handles his sister, which is making him so angry all he wants is blood.
“Simon,” Samantha says with a growing sense of urgency.
“I’ve got him,” he assures her and zeroes in his scope, putting Parker in the crosshairs.
He slows his breathing once again as he had just a moment before when he took out Parker’s man. He slows it even more. This shot must be precise.
“Grandpa doesn’t want him killed,” Sam reminds him.
“Doesn’t matter,” he says calmly. “He crossed the line when he took my sister.”
Simon takes a deep breath and holds it. Then he squeezes the trigger with the exact amount of pull he knows it needs. His shoulder absorbs the recoil with the same ease it always does. There’s a reason he worked all these years to build up his body. There is a reason he became the best long-range shot in the family. There is a reason he learned to control his breathing and stay calm under pressure. It was for this moment and this alone. His sister needs him. There is no other alternative. Cory could’ve missed. He could’ve also been shot himself. This was always meant to be his shot and his alone.
“You got him,” Sam exclaims beside him right as shots are fired behind them.
“Sam!” he fiercely whispers and rolls onto his back, raising his rifle at the same time. “Get down the hill. Get down. Get to cover.”
She crawls on her stomach and flips down over the edge of the cliff to the solid rock platform below them. Simon pops off a few rounds to keep whoever is shooting at them away for a moment. Then he follows her down as she rises to fire off a few cover rounds of her own.
“Is he dead?” he asks in his throat mic to his friend.
“Yes, Paige is hurt, though,” Cory answers, his breathing sounding labored. “What’s going on up there?”
“Stragglers, I suspect.”
“I’m coming. I’ve gotta get her out of here,” Cory says.
He turns to Sam, “When I count it down, I want you to fire off on fully-auto. Stay down. Suppressive fire only. Don’t let your head go above the ridge. Just reach up and spray and pray. I’m gonna pop up and see who’s out there.”
She doesn’t argue or object to the plan but nods with determination. He holds up his index finger and mouths one, two, and on three they both raise, she only enough to blast off about ten rounds. Simon spots them quickly. They shoot in their general direction, so he ducks again. She follows.
“Wait twenty seconds and do it again,” he says.
“Where are you going?” she asks, realizing he is about to leave her. He can tell she is nervous about this because of the shaking tone of her voice.
“Not far,” he reveals. “Gonna flank. We can’t be pinned down here long. Cory’s on his way back with my sister. She’s hurt. She is going to need us.”
“Yes,” she answers resolutely.
Simon leans into her and kisses her cheek below her goggles. “Stay down. Don’t come out of here until I come and get you, ok?”
She nods. Simon rises and climbs up the hill further past her. He is able to slip into the woods and move stealthily and without detection. Sprinting forward, he circumvents the road and comes around behind the people in the ditch he’d seen. He was right. There is a small group of them who were shooting at Sam and him.
Like clockwork, Sam barks off a dozen rounds drawing their attention away from him. It will confuse the group, as well. As soon as she starts firing, Simon begins picking them off. One turns in his direction, having figured it out, and fires at Simon. The round doesn’t even come close to hitting him because he is well concealed. He fires and hits the man square in the chest. Then another person falls to their demise, but the round hadn’t come from him.
“Sam,” he whispers under his breath with worry for her. She shouldn’t be shooting at them with enough accuracy to hit one. That would mean she didn’t follow his directions and is shooting in the open where she could also be shot.
“Comin’ up the hill, Professor,” Cory states. “I’m with you. I see you up there.”
Simon breaths out relief, realizing it is Cory picking them off and answers, “Yeah, I see you now, too.”
And he does. His sister is not with Cory, which makes him instantly sick. Is she okay? This thought spurs Simon into slightly more reckless action, and he races down the hill and takes out another person. Cory shoots the final man.
“Where is she?” he yells as he rushes toward Cory, who is standing in the road. He even grabs Cory by the lapels of his coat.
“She’s fine. She’s fine, damn it,” his friend says and shoves him back. Simon releases his grip. “She’s just down the hill by Sam. I left her with Sam and Damn Dog, Simon. Calm down. We need to get the hell outta’ here in case there’s others coming.”
Simon nods jerkily and pats his friend’s rumpled jacket. “Sorry, man. Sorry. I just panicked.
“It’s cool,” Cory allows. “Let’s move.”
They run back to Sam and Paige and help them up out of the recess of the cliff. His sister is in bad shape.
“I’ve got her,” Cory says, sweeping her up into his arms. “Just keep us covered.”
“Sam, watch to their left,” Simon orders, getting a nod. “I’ll cover to our right. Let’s move.”
“What happened to you guys?” Paige asks weakly.
“They set the house to explode,” Cory explains as they move as quickly as they can.
The ground is coating over with a light dusting of powdery white snow, which is slippery and wet.
“Oh, my gosh,” Paige frets.
“It’s ok,” Cory reassures her. “We weren’t in it when it did. Idiots thought we were. Burned some of the truck, though.”
“Yeah,” Sam confirms. “That’s what took us so long to get to you, Paige.”
“Oh, that’s terrible. I’m just glad you all are ok,” she says, tears rolling down her cheeks. “How’d you catch up?”
“Simon ran into the garage and was able to get the truck out. It’s not quite the same,” Sam explains.
Paige nearly shouts, “Simon! You did what?”
“It’s fine. I’m fine,” he says.
Sam sticks up for him and his reckless decision by saying, “If he hadn’t, there’s no way we would’ve found you. We couldn’t have caught up to Parker’s van.”
“We’re here,” Simon announces as the truck comes into view, nearly blending in with the snow falling around it, except for the passenger side facing them with the long, charred black marks from the explosion and smoke damage. The inside doesn’t smell so great anymore, either. “We’re a long way from home, too long. We need to go to Knox.”
“Agreed,” Cory concurs and opens the front passenger door for his dog, who readily jumps in. “I’ll drive. You take care of Paige.”
“Yes,” Simon agrees and opens the back door, which squeals in protest and is more difficult to open now. “Get in, Sam.”
She pushes past him and climbs to the other side of the back seat. Then she helps as they lift Paige into it next and has her rest her head in Sam’s lap. Cory is in the front and speeding away before Simon even has his door shut all the way. He’s just glad the tires didn’t burn. Another few seconds and the entire vehicle would’ve been engulfed in flames.
Simon gets down on one knee on the spacious back seat floor and rummages his pack for his emergency medical kit.
“What happened, sis?” he questions as he pulls his small, leather bag from his backpack.
“He hit me. I think. I think it was Parker.”
“Where did he hit you?” Simon asks, feeling anger bubble back to the surface again. He tries to squelch it. Right now, his sister needs him to be a doctor, not a warrior.
“Head. Here,” she indicates with one long, slim finger. “And here.”
“He slapped you around?” Cory asks from the front seat with deadly menace in his voice as his foot pushes harder on the accelerator as if he’s trying to bring harm to the truck in punishment for his wife’s rough treatment. Damn Dog whines once. Simon can hear the leather of the steering wheel protesting as Cory squeezes it. He understands the feelings his friend is having. He wants another fight. So does Simon.
“Yes,” she answers honestly. “I hurt my leg. Here.”
She points to her calf, which is not where Simon thought she was hurt. He assumed she had a sprained ankle or pulled a muscle. What he sees is much worse than he expected. She has a rather large shard of glass sticking out of the soleus muscle. He can only hope it isn’t in there deep enough to have cut through a tendon. She is bleeding, but it has started to coagulate around the glass.
“Stop! Stop, I’m gonna be sick!” she cries out and lurches upright.
Cory brings the speeding truck to a screeching halt, even sliding from the slick snow on the paved roads. She starts heaving. Simon helps her hang out of the open door of the back seat because she isn’t going to make it to get all the way out. Cory jumps out and is at her side in a flash. It makes Simon thankful that he married his sister. He’s a good man who takes the care of his sister very seriously.
“Sweetheart,” he says with a strained helplessness.
“Get back in, Cor,” Simon demands. “We need to get her to Knox asap.”
He doesn’t immediately move, so Simon hits his shoulder lightly to snap him out of his trance.
“Yeah, we…we…,” his friend stammers as Paige finishes and swipes a hand across her mouth.
Simon has rarely seen Cory like this. He is always in control, especially in situations like this. He’s out of sorts.
“Go!” Simon shouts in his face, which seems to help spur him into motion.
Simon doesn’t need help getting her all the way back into the truck. He has her rest on Sam again and gets right to work on his sister.
“It’s going to be alright, Paige,” he assures her. “Don’t worry, honey. We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes. Hang in there, ‘kay?”
She nods and allows her head to lull back against Sam’s shoulder. Sam just soothingly strokes her hair. She does meet Simon’s eyes above his sister’s head, though. He knows Sam is looking for some sort of reassurance in his eyes. He gives her a curt nod backed by a confidence he feels from the last four years of medical training under Herb and Reagan.
“I’m not taking that glass out until we get to the fort and I can better see,” he tells her and doesn’t get an answer. He digs around in his pack again until he finds his radio and tries the fort. After a few attempts, someone picks up. “This is Dr. Simon Murphy, and I need Dr. Avery to prep an emergency room for me stat.”
“Yes, Dr. Murphy,” the person responds. “We’ll alert Dr. Avery and get it ready immediately, sir.”
“We’ve got a fifteen-minute ETA, over and out,” he tells them.
“Yes, sir, over and out.”
Cory makes it in ten, even with the bad weather. Dr. Avery meets them in front of the medical center with a few other doctors and nurses.
“Simon!” she says, rushing forward from the others and hugging him. She breaks their embrace as soon as she started and asks, “What is it? Who’s hurt?”
“My sister,” he explains. “Soleus embedded with a shard of glass.”
He lifts Paige into his arms and carries her away from the truck all while discussing her case.
“Multiple head trauma, possible concussion, multiple lacerations and contusions,” he says as Cory and Sam follow after them. “She’s already showing signs of a concussion.”
Beside him, Eliza is writing quickly on a chart just like they do at Doc’s practice. Once they are inside the medical building, the team leads him to the first trauma room.
“Slow night,” one of them says to him.
“That’s always a good thing to hear,” Simon offers.
His sister lurches. “Put me down, Simon. I’m gonn….”
She vomits on the floor the second her feet touch down but mostly brings up bile and dry-heaves for a few minutes.
When she’s done again, Paige nods, “Ok. Sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about,” Eliza tells her and turns to Cory and Sam, “We’ve got it from here. You can both wait in the lobby if you’d like or go and get some rest in the McClane quarters.”
Cory looks like he’s going to object, so Simon steps in, “It’s cool. I’ll come and get you if anything happens. Once we’re through, I’ll come for you anyway. Give us an hour or so.”
“Sure,” Cory says.
Simon notices that Sam is glaring at Eliza. That’s an odd reaction for her. She’s normally so friendly with everyone.
“Why don’t you call home?” Simon suggests. “Everyone must be worried. They don’t even know about Parker.”
Cory nods. “Yeah. Come on, Sam.”
Her blue eyes narrow on Eliza before she follows Cory from the room. Then they get to work on his sister. He helps her change into a sterile hospital gown first. Next, Eliza works on her vitals and checks her for signs of a concussion, which Simon is positive she has. He just hopes it’s only a concussion.
One of the other doctors hits her leg with some local anesthesia, for which he is thankful. He doesn’t like to think of his sister in pain of any sort. Taking the lead, he removes the four-inch-long by three-inch wide shard of glass embedded about an inch and a half deep into her calf and begins the process of irrigation and stitching. It has missed rendering her tendon of plantaris. Sewing tendons back together, which he, unfortunately, does often is much more tedious work with a long and terribly slower healing time. It takes more than an hour before they are done, and Eliza confirms the concussion.
“Well,” Eliza says once they are alone in the hallway together, “looks like a concussion, but I questioned her thoroughly. She’s lucid, understands what I’m saying, hasn’t lost any ability to speak or form thoughts. I think she’ll make a full recovery. We gave her some painkiller. She just needs sleep and rest, nothing strenuous or too active for a few weeks.”
“Right,” he agrees with her diagnosis and treatment plan. “Thank you so much for everything you’ve done tonight.”
“No problem at all,” she says and gently rests her hand on his forearm.
“You’re a great friend, Eliza,” he praises and smiles. Then he offers her a hug, which she readily returns.
“Yep, forever a friend, never a bride,” she jokes and kisses his cheek affectionately.
“I don’t think it goes that way,” he teases.
She laughs and says, “Oh, well.”
“You’ll find someone. You’re a wonderful person and a great doctor. I just…”
“I know. No worries. We’re still friends, ok?”
He nods and pulls back as she does the same.
“Hey,” Cory says as he and Sam stride up to them. She looks even madder this time. “What’s going on?”
His friend’s hair is standing on end like he’s run a hand through it many times tonight.
“Come on,” Eliza offers. “I’ll take you to her. She’s doing fine now. See you later, Simon.”
She leaves, and he can hear her explaining Paige’s prognosis to his friend as they walk. Cory lets out a loud sigh of relief.
He immediately turns to look down at Samantha, “Did you guys get ahold of the farm?”
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she’s staring daggers at Eliza’s back. Is she jealous?
“Sam?”
“Huh?” she asks, snapping out of it. “Yeah. Yes. We called it in.”
“Good. I’m sure that was a relief for them to hear from us.”
“Yeah, but Derek’s pissed,” she answers.
“Why?”
“He didn’t want Parker killed. Now we’ve got squat,” she says in a snide tone that she doesn’t normally display.
“Yes, but that was only the perfect plan before he took my sister hostage,” he says with a ruthless grin.
“Simon,” she scolds. “What do we do now? He’s dead. Now we’re stuck figuring out who all was involved. We can’t question him or the ones with him.”
“I know. I killed most of them, too,” he quips.
Sam actually grins, even though the subject matter is a tad on the dark side. “Yes, you did. I saw. I was busy spotting for you. You don’t need to brag.”
“Doc always says, ‘it ain’t braggin’ if you can do it’,” he teases.
“That’s terrible!” she reprimands further. “I don’t think Grandpa was referring to shooting people when he said that. It’s no laughing matter taking someone’s life.”
“No, but they were horrible, wicked pieces of human filth,” he reminds her. “And again, they had my sister.”
She looks up at him with sad blue eyes, “I know. Paige means so much to you.”
“The only other person I would’ve done all that for is you, Samantha.”
Her breath catches in her throat, and she stares down at her feet. Then she shakes her head as if she doesn’t believe him.
“Don’t worry about Parker. We’ve still got Sofia. We’ll just question her,” he points out.
“I’m…I’m gonna go back to the family quarters,” she says.
“I’ll be along shortly,” he says. “I need to move Paige to the family suite, too.”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. General McClane’s wife has another apartment set up for us. She said that way when more than just a couple of us come here, we’ll have more space.”
“Where is it?”
“Right next door to the other rooms,” she explains.
“Got it,” he acknowledges with a nod. “We’ll be up soon. Go and get some rest.”
“I…um…” she stutters nervously.
He stoops slightly to look her in the eye and rests his hand on the side of her shoulder. “What is it?”
“Um, that puts us in the same room.”
“Not the same room, just the same apartment, right?”
She nods, “Yeah, that’s what I mean.”
“Don’t worry,” he says. “I won’t be up for a few hours. There’s a lot to take care of. First Paige. Then talking with the farm and the general and Cory. I won’t wake you. Just get some sleep.”
She opens her mouth to say something but doesn’t. Her dark brows knit together as if she is uncomfortable.
“I can be quiet,” he reassures her, getting a bigger frown.
After Sam has left with Cory as her escort, insisted upon by Simon because they don’t know who to trust on this base now, he returns to his sister and Dr. Avery. She is awake but slightly dopey from pain medicine.
“Doing alright?” he asks and touches her forehead.
She manages a weak smile. “Yeah, great.”
Eliza breaks in and says, “No further bleeding. The wound is clean and sanitary, no leakage. She’s doing well.”
“Good, good,” he says, holding her wrist for a pulse. “We’ll get you moved to your room with Cory very soon.”
They keep her for observation a while longer and finally get her moved to their apartment near dawn. Robert posts guards at their door, men he trusts with his own life. Strangely, Simon finds Sam on the sofa asleep instead of in her bed. She has also left a lamp burning, which is unusual. Everyone conserves energy, whether they have electrical capabilities or if it’s just oil lamps. She’s not even lying all the way down. Her neck is cricked in a way that makes him think she’ll be stiff when she wakes.
Simon locks their door and props a kitchen chair under the handle. He lifts Sam gently into his arms and carries her to the bedroom. He’ll sleep in the other one. Without waking, she curls her arm around his neck.
“Simon,” she whispers.
“Yes, it’s just me,” he tells her so as not to frighten her. “I’m putting you to bed.”
She smells like soap and shampoo and Sam, which is even better than the soap and shampoo scent.
He places her on the bed, and she instantly curls into a fetal ball. Her hair is damp, and the apartment isn’t that warm. Simon pulls the covers up to her chin and runs a hand over her head. When he turns to go, Sam grabs his hand.
“Don’t go!” she says in a panic. “Stay, please. I don’t want to sleep in here by myself.”
He’s not sure what she could be afraid of, but Sam is definitely fearful of something. With the past that she carries, he can only assume her fears are, although unfounded and irrational, real enough to her.
Perching on the side of the bed, Simon says, “Sure, Sam. I’ll stay. I need to shower first, ok?”
“In here?”
“Um, sure. Just let me get my stuff.”
“Are you coming right back?”
He can’t help but smile. She’s so innocent. So frightened. So everything that he wants to protect and keep safe.
“Absolutely.”
Simon showers quickly, wanting to get the mud and sweat and probably other stuff off of him since he killed one man tonight with his dagger. Then he changes into clean clothing Robert’s wife has left in the apartments for them to use. Jeans that are a touch too big, a white t-shirt, clean underwear, and socks, which are always appreciated, and a black hoodie. When he’s done, he pulls his boots back on. They always sleep in their shoes on the road. One just never knows when they need to move quickly.
He lies carefully beside her on the bed, trying not to jostle the mattress and wake her. Although it is slightly cold in the bedroom, Simon stays on top of the covers. And even though he has the skills to seduce Sam if he wanted, has nearly done so quite a few times, it wouldn’t be right. She doesn’t have the skills to tell him no. And he doesn’t want her to. Soon, he hopes she won’t have to. With thoughts of her being seduced by him on his mind, Simon falls asleep with her curled up against his side.