Chương 171: 11. Everything Burns.
When we finally arrived at the base, I was actually quite tired. Tired of killing, tired of waiting, tired of saving the innocent, tired of those bastards who took advantage of the vulnerable. It was nothing new to me. I would occasionally become jaded and tired, and that was okay. After all, I had been doing this work on and off for well over a century. Why should I have to keep going without getting tired? I was no robot. I had the right to feel.
I walked wearily to my office, feeling the damn bullet in my leg, and knowing that I would soon have to be the fearless leader once again, ready to go on. Maybe a good, long spree of sniping might help. I put on my playlist as I started to take off my gear, feeling relief as the heavy armor plate vest came off my body. I was strong, but it still felt heavy. I was sweaty, and a shower seemed like heaven. But first, I was going to take the fucking bullet out so I could feel fresh for at least a little while.
I wasn't sure when it would be time to go back to the States, or if I would even go back. I could also go on a European tour. I had homes, and houses all over the world, so there wasn't just one place to return to. It was more a question of what caught my fancy at any given time. Of course, being part of the pack, the alpha female, was something I had to take into account. But then again, the pack might be very eager to go on a European mission as well.
Right now, I wasn't thinking about pack life or breeding. I knew I had to take care of business first. Once I had a bit of the mission list done and all the necessary preparations are taken care of, once the big problems were solved, then I would have time to think about pack life.
Pack had also learned about this. It was enjoyable to see them becoming motivated and focused on their jobs instead of planning a vacation in Ireland for sex purposes. This work was rewarding, but damn, it could be incredibly demanding, both physically and mentally. I had to kill again, what some would consider innocent beings and their unborn babies. Why? Was it out of mercy? Had it been certain that there was no hope for those females or their babies? But then again, two telepaths didn't even tell me there was hope. I could see it in their faces. Their telepathy made it clear enough.
And as tragic as it was, it was better to end the existence of those babies than to condemn them to a life of disability, orphanhood, and likely short survival after birth. And for those who did survive, their quality of life would not be worth living. I knew that much. I was a doctor, after all.
The underweight mothers, even the fetus usually take what it needs, but they have been in such a terrible state for too long. Maybe if the pregnancies were in the first trimester, there could have been a chance. But since they had been almost full term, and I had heard multiple heartbeats, suffering mothers, it was not a hard decision, though it was heartbreaking.
I walked over to my safe, opened it, and placed the file inside. There were already a few files in there. I reached for my bullet removal kit as well. It was best to do this on the sofa. I took off my pants, placed the kit next to me, and began using a metal detector to locate where the bullet was. I also had a portable ultrasound so I could get a better visual. What I saw on the display made me swear out loud.
I cursed. "Fuck, that's not a nice place. Freaking fuck, my luck..."
The bullet was lodged tightly into my shin bone, near my knee, and it wouldn't be easy to remove. As it had hit from behind, it had gone through almost fully. It had also caused my bone to splinter slightly. It wasn't simply a matter of opening myself up and plucking out the damn bullet, but I would have to remove those splinters of bone as well. They could travel to my knee, hinder my movement in mission or something, plus getting an infection was almost always danger when it came to me. Thankfully, I had a few instruments with me, so I would be able to get this done. I stood up and went to get my larger medical kit and some additional supplies.
I was in the middle of digging through my larger medkit getting instruments when my door suddenly swung open and Wulfe walked in. He gave me a curious look as he found me standing there in a t-shirt and panties, rummaging through my medkit. It was clear that he was trying to figure out what had happened.
He asked, "Where did you get hurt? Should we go to the medbay so Colin or Damon can take a look? No need to do this alone."
I replied, "Just my leg, it's not too bad. I need to remove some bone shards since my shinbone splintered. They're busy at the moment."
Wulfe insisted, "No, they're not."
Before I could react, he walked up to me, grabbed my arm, and brought my medkit closer. In an instant, he teleported both me and my kit to the medbay.
Number four was sitting at the computer when we arrived.
He glanced at my partially dressed state, Wulfe's serious expression, and asked, "How severe is it?"
Wulfe handed him my ultrasound machine, which number four examined with a grunt.
He then pointed to my medkit and said, "What's this? I haven't seen or checked it out. Are all the supplies up to date?"
Wulfe shrugged and replied, "Missy was about to remove that bullet or whatever she was going to do with those shards. You can check it out and decide if she can continue her self-treatment."
I rolled my eyes and muttered, "It's not that bad."
Number four responded, "Considering your tendency to get infections and the unknown amount of germs in that place, I would say you shouldn't operate on yourself. I'll take care of this."
He gestured towards my leg and continued, "You'll also need a course of antibiotics, just to be safe. I'll have number one look into that. His expertise with teeth will come in handy if there's anything lodged in there, especially since it's been there for hours."
He motioned towards one of the patient beds and said to Wulfe, "Make sure she gets in there and stays put. I'll gather some supplies and see what we can do. Number one is on his way to assess the situation as well. Do we need to use the operating room for this?"
As he opened my medkit and examined the packets, he muttered to himself. Then, he walked over to a nearby shelf, grabbed a large plastic basin, and began placing my packed instruments inside.
He said to me "These are going down to the maintenance to be checked, cleaned, and sterilized, you have not put when you have opened these numbing agents, you know, three-month rule, so as I have no idea how fresh these are, they go the bin, you always mark in vial opening date or month so you can keep an eye what is useful and what is not."
He threw most of my opened meds away, and put my instruments into a bin, to be cleaned and used in medbays. He inspected my dressings and their sterility. Some of them went to be sterilized, and some of them he threw away.
Wulfe led me to one of the beds, and I sat on the edge. I was tired, I ran my hand through my hair, sighed.
Wulfe glanced at me and said, "You did the right thing. Those babies were doomed. Just move on. You're not a monster. How's your bloodlust? Do you need some?"
I replied, "No, I don't need any blood. I'm not an addict. So don't look at me like that. I can handle it. I know there was no hope. What do you take me for? A monster who kills innocent pregnant women just for fun, even though they were scared of me?"
My voice was sharp enough for Wulfe to frown slightly. Number one had just walked in and was looking at me. Number four showed him my almost empty medkit. I guessed that the sterility of those packets had worn off. Number four and number one were very particular about it. Oh well, at least they might give me a better kit. But knowing my luck, I probably wouldn't get a kit, just a lecture on how injuries are treated in the medbay, not in my office.
Wulfe said to me, "It's nothing wrong with you to need help. It's not a sign of weakness, but a sign of wisdom to recognize when you need help. You're not supposed to handle everything alone."
I nodded. I was tired and not in the mood for big revelations or feeling weak. I did not need any help, and it was not his damn lifework to try to save me from myself all the fucking time.
I told him, "I'm tired. That was one long mission. But I'm fine, truly. Well, except for that slug in my leg, but no worries."
Number four came over with number one and they sonographed my leg again.
Damon told number four, "We can remove it here. It penetrated from behind, but it's almost fully through, so I think we can extract it from the front side, with less tissue to go through. I'll test the tissues around there so my teeth will react to that, not to any stress she might have in her blood."
Number four nodded and said to me, "Lie on your back. This will be done soon and you can continue working. You won't get a medkit in your office. Medical procedures are done in the medbay for a reason. I'm also thinking about getting a metal detector spell that alerts us if someone has metal in their body. By the way, Luiz is fine. He's recovering in Jarod's facility. Samuel and Colin operated on him."
I nodded and lay on my back as the men walked away to retrieve their gear. Wulfe sat next to me, but then Magnum came over to ask him something about a mission, so he had to leave. It was better that way. I did not need anyone fussing over me. I was not an addict, some damn weak creature with no self-restraint.
Soon, they arrived with two tables on wheels laden with supplies. My leg was meticulously cleaned, anesthetized, and cleaned again. Sterile drapes were placed, and both of them scrubbed their hands and donned sterile gloves. They began cutting and probing, constantly asking if I felt anything. I didn't.
Damon extracted small pieces of muscle, testing for infection or any other issues. As they dug out bone fragments, I heard little sounds, which clinked as they hit the metal bowl. They struggled to dislodge the bullet, as my bone had healed tightly around it. Eventually, they had to break my shinbone in order to remove it. But with Damon's blood, my bone healed swiftly. It would have healed fine on its own, but Salvatores are control freaks.
Damon injected from his fangs into the collector of bright yellow antibiotic concentrate. I recognized it as something he almost always used, for some reason. There wasn't much of it.
Once he removed the collectors, he told me, "Stay there. I'll go and prepare this. You'll receive a shot every day for five days. It should do the trick. I'll load up syringes for the other days, in case I'm not here. So you can administer them yourself or have someone help you."
I nodded and stood up to sit, waiting for my shot. At least that damn bullet was finally out. If it had been lodged any deeper, I thought to myself, I might not have been able to remove it on my own. Maybe I should remember that I have medbays for a reason. There's no need to perform self-surgery all the time. I was still tired, and I didn't even want to think about what awaited me on my desk.
Oh, how wonderful it would be to go to the blood room and have that special blood. But it wasn't for me. I wasn't an addict. I vehemently denied the whole thing and convinced myself that I was perfectly fine. I didn't need anyone's help. I was the leader of this organization, and I had everything under control.
A few minutes later, Damon returned with a syringe filled with a now light yellow substance.
He told me, "Bend over. This goes in your ass. The muscles there are the best."
I rolled my eyes and turned around so he could administer the injection. It stung and throbbed for a while, but I figured sitting might be uncomfortable. Just a slight discomfort.
He handed me four syringes, each with a needle and a cover.
"Inject them into the largest muscle you can find," he advised. "It may sting and cause some pain, but it's better than getting hit in the arm and hindering your function. Just to let you know, there aren't many bugs in your blood, but there are some. Just in case."
I nodded and teleported back to my office, making my way to the shower. Before anything else, I locked the door. Exhausted, I realized my ass was hurting, but it wasn't too terrible - just another sensation to add to the list. As I entered the shower, I noticed the broken tiles. It infuriated me once again, the whole situation. Why was it always me who had to kill, who was wanted? Frustrated, I struck the tiles again, this time in a different spot, causing more cracks.
Under my breath, I cursed aloud as the water hit my knuckles. "Damn it, fuck, shit!"
It stung, but I healed quickly. Sarcastically, I thought to myself that at least I now had antibiotics, so I didn't need to worry about getting an infection from those stupid tiles. I started decorating my shower again. Just messing with it.
I quickly got dressed and started brewing a fresh pot of strong filter coffee, in need of a good caffeine boost. I wasn't feeling weak at all. Soon, I returned to see what tasks awaited me. There were at least 8 new procurement orders and surveillance information on 13 targets. It was up to me to decide whether or not to include them in the roster, as there weren't many of my council members around.
Additionally, I had new lists of warehouses to review and a few piles of mission reports to go through before debriefing them. There was no rest for the wicked. On top of all this, I had about 30 messages from my clinic in my email. I sighed, feeling overwhelmed by the mounting workload.
Glancing at our roster, I noticed that 8 out of 10 Salvatores were already assigned to missions. Number four was on medical duty and not available, and number one, Mariella, had her own mission. She was investigating a possible breeding facility, which could potentially serve as a testing facility as well. Good for her. I didn't see any missions for myself just yet, as I was swamped with work.
Wulfe and Taylor were also on missions, along with Tim and Alaric. They were all part of Mariella's mission. Once I managed to sort through these tasks, I thought I might embark on a sniping spree. There were approximately 45 targets lined up, and not many snipers were available. It would give me a sense of freedom and purpose, as sniping had a significant impact on weakening our enemies. I had a plan in mind, and now it was just a matter of clearing these tasks off my plate.
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