Sniper Fire (Love in the Crosshairs) Read Online Free PDF

Arguing with him would only waste precious minutes Kyle didn’t have to spare. She only wished she had as much confidence in herself as Joshua did. She hated that her first solo experience at arterial repair was going to be on someone she really cared for. It was going to make it so much harder to maintain that professional level where she viewed things dispassionately. That was the only way she could deal with the severe trauma cases. She had to tuck her emotions deep inside behind a thick wall of concentration.
    As soon as she had the second IV hooked up and running, Farrah checked Kyle’s pulse again. Slow and thready. The need to hurry pressed down on her. She glanced at Joshua as she pulled a rolling instrument tray from a corner and started piling on sterilized packs of scalpels, forceps, and sutures. “You have a medic with you? Someone who knows a retractor from a scalpel?”
    “Gage.”
    One of the scary-looking soldiers stepped forward. She paused and looked him up and down. Tall, broad shoulders, slim build. His blond hair, blue eyes, and tanned skin reminded her of the proverbial surfer type. Her gaze moved on, snagging on the stethoscope hanging around his neck. She hadn’t noticed it before. The dangling ends tapped the barrel of the rifle he cradled across his chest. The other soldier, the one with the sling, moved up beside him. He was the dark to Gage’s light, with black hair, black eyes, and bronzed skin. The sculpted goatee he wore gave him a rakish air. Farrah met his determined stare and arched a brow in question.
    “Name’s Sam. I can’t sew him up,” he said, lifting his wounded arm slightly, a wince of pain flashing across his face. “But I can monitor vitals.”
    “Good.” She tilted her head at the sink in the corner. “Both of you wash up. And for goodness sake, put away that gun. That goes for all of you. There’ll be no shooting in here. I’ve got a couple of sick patients sleeping down the hall.” Patients who would be awake in a few hours. People would crowd the clinic’s halls shortly after that. More patients, nurses, doctors.
    Officials.
    Thoughts of getting caught, of the damage to not only her reputation, but the WHO’s, flitted through Farrah’s mind. She firmly pushed such worries aside as she set about cutting the rest of the blood-soaked clothing off her patient.
    Her patient. She had to think of him as just another patient, one of the many she treated every day, nothing more. Not the close friend she’d gone to school with. Not the laughing, joking young man she’d watched go off to boot camp as eager as a kid on his first day of school. No, this wasn’t Kyle Fagan, one of two men she held close to her heart. This was a stranger, just a face-less stranger. If she let herself think the shredded flesh under her hands belonged to Kyle, she’d throw up.
    “Is there anything I can do to help?”
    The softly spoken voice was so out of place, she started. Looking up, she found the man in jeans and t-shirt standing on the other side of the table. He was younger than she’d first thought, late teens, early twenties. Too young to be part of Joshua’s crew. Joshua laid a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “No, you stay—”
    “Yes. Yes, you can help.” Farrah didn’t care that she overrode Joshua. He might be in charge of this band of misfits, but this was her clinic. At least it was as long as no one found out she was treating a member of the U.S. military. Noting the blood stains again, she asked, “Are you hurt?”
    He quickly shook his head and pointed at Kyle. “It’s his blood.”
    “Okay. You can wash up, too. Gage and I will need someone to hand us instruments. There’s a scrub top in the cabinet next to the sink. Change your shirt.” She ignored Joshua’s questioning gaze and went back to prepping Kyle’s leg, swabbing every inch of unbroken skin with antiseptic. The dark orange stain of the liquid looked bloody in the dim light.
    “I’m going