table.
“I still want you to meet with a vascular surgeon. We need to check the integrity of the repair, but if you continue to stay off it, I see no problem with reinstating your operating privileges.”
“And how much longer?” When I look at my legs, I cringe. All I see are signs of atrophy. The quads aren’t nearly as well defined as before, and the skin sags where it used to be stretched tight over those muscles.
“You still have about 6-8 weeks.”
“That’s what you said a week ago.” To keep from sounding petulant, I practically growl out the words.
“And that’s what I’m saying now.” Doc Summers spins around.
“You know how much muscle mass I’m going to lose between now and then?”
“Not as much as you’ll lose if that leg doesn’t heal.” She regards me with a long, solemn look. “I know it’s hard, and I get that you want to get back to work. I also understand your concern over your physical conditioning, but you need to trust me on this. I want to see you in another three weeks. Depending on how things look and how your appointment goes with the vascular surgeon, we might be able to begin some gentle physical therapy.”
“I’m going to have chicken legs by then.”
“Griff, you’re going to be fine. Everything looks good. No venous congestion. No clots on the ultrasound.” She put gel on the back of my leg earlier and took a look at the blood flowing in that vein. Clots and strictures, a narrowing of the injured vessel, are bad. I’m not medical, but I got that much.
I blow out a breath and accept her assessment. “I guess I’ll see you in three weeks.”
“You know, you’re still cleared for support. You can still be a vital asset to the team.”
“I kind of thought maybe I wasn’t.”
Her soft smile eases some of the worry I had. “I know exactly what you’re worried about, and we’re not talking about what may, or may not, have happened during Moira’s rescue. Ariel Black is sticking to her story, and Speed backs it up.” The look she gives says she knows that’s all bullshit, but I keep my mouth shut, not wanting to put the doc in a compromising position by speaking the truth. “You should check in with Mitzy and the team.”
“Why?” That’s an odd comment coming from her.
“Only because I know they’re meeting in about ten minutes.”
“Meeting about what?”
“About that phone.” For a doctor, Doc Summers seems to know a ton about the inner workings in and around Guardian HRS.
“Well, shit.” That’s all she needs to say to get my gimp-assed self out of her exam room. I head out of medical and make a beeline to the main conference room for the techies. The brisk walk makes the pain in my leg flare, but I grit my teeth and double-step it. No way am I missing this, although I’m a bit concerned I wasn’t called in.
Not that it matters.
I palm the door to the conference room and push it open. It’s dark inside, and everyone swivels toward the door. Some lift their hands to shield against the glare from the hallway.
It takes a moment, but I slowly make out the faces bathed in the blue glow of the monitors. Mitzy with her psychedelic hair stands out. The monolithic form of Forest stands at the back of the room. He leans against the back wall with a scowl and an icy glare. Sitting around the table, Sam, CJ, and Alpha-One, my direct commander, Max, take me in. No other members of Alpha team are here. I pull to a dead stop, suddenly realizing this may not be a briefing I should be at.
“Sorry, Doc Summers said I should come.”
“Did she now?” Forest’s voice rumbles across the space between us, vibrating the air.
“She said I was still in a support role.” I look around, confused, because the rest of my team isn’t here.
“Shut the damn door.” Sam, who’s closest to the door, holds his hand over his face and pinches his eyes shut.
“I can leave.”
“Come in and have a seat.” Forest kicks off the far wall and waves me toward the table. “Another pair of eyes will help.” He runs his fingers through his shockingly white-blond hair and lets the shoulder-length strands slip through his fingers. The expression on his face is grim.
Not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, I quickly enter and make sure the door latches behind me. Max kicks