Conrad cursed and muttered an apology.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Don’t stop. Just get it done with. I can take it.”
Conrad shook his head, respect flashing in his eyes. But he did as she said and meticulously set the stitches but not before instructing Hancock to administer another injection of pain medication.
After the second dose, she no longer had to force herself into a deep, dark hole. Her surroundings fuzzed and she drifted with the wind, feeling no pain or anxiety. Before she knew it, Conrad had finished and efficiently bandaged the wound after thoroughly cleaning it.
“We have a long drive. You should sleep,” Conrad said gruffly. “The pain meds will help and you won’t be aware of the bumpy terrain, nor will it cause you undue pain.”
She nodded slowly, her reflexes dulled. And then fear took hold and her eyes flew open when she had just about drifted into oblivion.
“I’m helpless like this,” she said in a panicked voice. “What if we run into trouble? I’ll be completely useless. I’ll get us all killed.”
It was the same argument she’d used before when she’d been heavily medicated, only this time no amusement glimmered in Hancock’s eyes as it had the first time she’d said nearly those exact words. In fact, utter seriousness was etched into his expression. Gravity and promise glittered brightly in his eyes and she drew comfort from the wordless exchange between them. Sometimes a single look said a thousand words.
Hancock put his hand to her forehead and wiped her hair back from her brow.
“You don’t worry about that. You’ll be of no use to us if you don’t rest and recover. We will protect you. Now go to sleep, Honor. I’ll wake you when it’s time.”
She frowned, but the pull of the medication was making her swimmy and she could no longer fight its effects.
Summoning her last moments of coherency, she gripped Conrad’s hand, thinking he would be more willing to listen to her demand than Hancock.
“Promise me,” she said, shocked at how difficult it was to get the words past her lips. “Promise me that if I hinder you in any way, you’ll leave me and save yourselves. I’ve cheated death multiple times already. It’s only a matter of time before death wins, and I refuse to allow you to die trying to prevent the inevitable.”
Conrad’s response was explosive. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?”
But she had already slipped under, fading away under the spell of the medication.
Conrad turned his furious gaze on his team leader, who didn’t look any happier over Honor’s demand.
“Jesus Christ,” Conrad muttered. “Is she for real?”
“Yes, she is,” Hancock said quietly. “Which makes our betrayal of her all the more reprehensible.”
Conrad’s lips formed a tight white line, anger and helpless rage flashing in his eyes.
“There has to be another way, Hancock. One that doesn’t involve fucking over an innocent woman.”
“Don’t you think I’ve weighed all the options?” Hancock snapped, his carefully constructed control fraying precariously. He was displaying uncharacteristic emotion. But then so too were his men. “Don’t you think if I had any other way to take Maksimov down, I’d do it? Honor is our only means of getting close enough to Maksimov to take him out for good. If there was a way, any other way, I’d jump all over it and send Honor home in a heartbeat, but goddamn it, she is the only way. We don’t have to like it. We don’t fucking like it. But it doesn’t change what has to be.”
His words were laced with bitterness. Anger, self-loathing. Regret. Guilt. Things he never allowed himself to feel—things he hadn’t though himself capable of feeling—because to do so was asking for failure. And he would not fail a third time. Too many lives depended on this, his final—and only—remaining shot at taking Maksimov out for good.