Hot Zone by Catherine Mann Read Free Book Online Page B

swayed, dead tired on his feet.
    Through the cracked stained-glass window, he saw a military Humvee pulling up with armed guards in front and back. Most likely the restocking of medical supplies. The last convoy had been ambushed.
    Typical shit that happened in situations like this. Looters. Medications would sell for big bucks in the outer regions, where help hadn’t yet reached. Hell, anything could happen at times like these… Everything from drug trafficking to human trafficking.
    He had a 9 mm tucked under his scrubs and he knew how to use it. Yeah, he’d made use of one of those black-market scavengers right after the earthquake hit. It had cost him his Patek Philippe wristwatch to get a weapon. He hadn’t hesitated in making the exchange. No one would touch his wife.
    And his sister? His… child?
    Bile churned in his gut until his vision dimmed. He pushed down the abyss of memories always there waiting, threatening to swallow him. Turning back toward the sink, he became the surgeon again. No longer Aiden, husband, father, brother… son of a perverted criminal. For now, he would save lives.
    But if anyone threatened his family, he wouldn’t think twice about once again becoming a killer.
    ***
    She would kill for this baby.
    Amelia cradled Joshua in her arms as she had through the night, rocking her nephew in the school library that had been turned into a pediatric ward. She’d never imagined such powerful protective instincts could fire through her. But her love, her bond with her nephew couldn’t be denied.
    Although he slept peacefully, she wasn’t ready to let go of him yet. Pressing a kiss to his smooth forehead, she breathed in the scent of his freshly washed skin and hair. Clean clothing was in short supply, so he wore only a diaper and a T-shirt that was a little too large. Bright letters spelled out Bahamas , with a toucan and palm tree. Apparently even the good guys were looting.
    Sighing, she smoothed the cotton, tugged the hem, and reassured herself in a dozen ways that he was okay. Scrapes marked his tiny limbs, but miraculously, no cuts, no stitches were needed. Only the IV taped to his arm hinted at the ordeal he’d endured, trapped under an entire hotel.
    Her body ached more than she could have believed possible, but other than bruises, scrapes, and a cut on her hand, she’d come through blessedly whole as well. The medics had pumped her full of antibiotics and a tetanus booster, then freed her to go with Joshua. She hadn’t left his side since.
    Two nurses—or some kind of medical techs—circulated around the room, checking on their dozen little charges, making notes on their painfully thin charts. Most of them were orphans. The rest had parents or relatives in critical condition elsewhere.
    And Joshua’s parents? Her brother and his wife? Amelia’s head fell back as she tipped her face toward the open window. The first morning rays splashed a tequila sunrise across the parched dusty world outside.
    The night had passed quickly as her nephew had been shuffled from the tent clinic to an elementary school that had been converted into a hospital. The library had tables stacked in a corner, the open floor space filled with tiny cots, basinets, even pallets, anything that could hold an injured child until better accommodations could be airlifted in. Blankets were hung up here and there for impromptu privacy. A battery-operated radio hummed softly in a corner.
    The building ran off generators now. There was no air conditioner, but fans hummed lowly in the windows, the sounds and the morning world coming to life, so normal and yet strangely empty without the sound of Hugh Franco’s calm reassurance.
    How could she have grown that accustomed to, so dependent on, his voice in such a short time?
    A hand on her shoulder jarred her from her thoughts.
    “Ms. Bailey?” A military nurse passed her a bottle of water. “You need to remember to take care of yourself. You’ve been through quite an