![]() ![]() Jason ripped the needle out of Shane’s wrist while Farrin observed in horror. Shane’s IV bag tumbled down to his knees, bobbing on its rubber line. “Come on!” Looping one of Shane’s arms over his neck, he hauled him off the gurney. ![]() But a quick check of her showed her still pale and distracted. Your friend is packed with solid muscle, Farrin had said. If Jason had been a woman, he would’ve been impressed. Jason stumbled backward, the hospital gown in his hands, leaving a naked and pissed-looking Shane on the gurney. Hurrying over to Shane, he grabbed two fistfuls of the man’s hospital gown, yanking so hard to get him up, the ties snapped off the back of the gown and the material tore away. Shelves on one side and-yes!-closet space for white lab coats on the other. He raced to the cabinet and wrenched open the double doors. His vision fell on a six-foot-tall cabinet pushed against the wall at the end of one row of beds and set next to a crude nurse’s station. “We need to hide, then get the hell out of here.” As soon as fifty backs are turned. “Besides, there are too many tangoes.” Who would cover the space between the front gate and this medical tent in about three minutes. “With you still seeing cross-eyed? Negative.” Jason jumped off the bed. ![]() Pick off squirters as they arrive.” He tried to heft himself to a sitting position on the gurney but didn’t make it. “Taliban!” Jason snarled over his shoulder at Shane. The gate was wide open, and through it was pouring a boatload of men! ![]()
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