Ethan stepped into Cole’s room to find his teammate lying awkwardly on the too-small table, his eyes closed and forehead creased with tension.
“Hey man,” Ethan said quietly.
Cole opened his eyes and stared back at him. “Rachel?”
“Nothing yet. Dr. Scofield is examining her. Wanted to see how you were feeling.”
“I’ve been better. I’ve been worse. Nothing I won’t get over with the help of some good drugs,” he offered wryly.
Ethan hesitated and swallowed uncomfortably.
“Something wrong?” Cole asked.
“I just wanted to say thanks. You risked your life to save Rachel. I can’t ever repay that. Having her back . . . Just thanks. I appreciate it.”
Cole made a rude noise. “Just don’t holler that Semper Fi shit and we’ll call it even.”
Ethan gave him a mock look of horror. “Hooyah, baby. Hooyah.”
Cole grinned. “Right on, brother. Right on.”
Then he lay back and groaned. “If those f**kheads had better aim, this would have been a clean through-and-through.”
“Yeah, well, if they had better aim, your brains would be splattered over the Colombian jungle,” Ethan said dryly.
Cole closed his eyes wearily. “There is that.”
“I’m going to get out of here. I’ll go look in on Dolphin and Steele.”
Cole opened his eyes again and lifted his head. “Save your breath with Steele, man. And for God’s sake don’t thank him. It’ll just piss him off.”
Ethan chuckled. “I’ll remember that. Try and get some rest. Doc’ll be in shortly.”
“You take care of that girl of yours. You’re a damn lucky man. Not everyone gets a second chance.”
“Yeah,” Ethan said soberly. “I am lucky.”
He turned and walked out, his shoulders tight, his chest even tighter. A door down, he poked his head into Dolphin’s room, only to see Baker and Renshaw crowded in. He nodded at Dolphin and continued on.
Steele sat up on the exam table, his expression brooding. He connected glances with Ethan and gave a quick, dismissive nod. Ethan took the hint and walked on to the small reception area where Sam sat. He slouched into one of the tiny, uncomfortable chairs and closed his eyes.
The next thing he knew, Sam nudged him awake. He blinked rapidly as Dr. Scofield’s face came into view.
“Ethan,” she said softly. “Can you come with me?”
He scrambled up, scrubbing the sleep from his eyes as he followed the doctor toward the exam room. Anxiety made him jumpy, and he rubbed damp palms down his fatigues. When they bypassed Rachel’s room, he shot an inquiring look at the doctor.
“I thought we’d talk in my office,” she said as she opened the door and stepped inside. “Such as it is.” Her arm swept over the room that more resembled a closet.
Papers were piled on every exposed surface and boxes lined the walls on either side of her desk.
She shoved a pile of envelopes off the chair in front and extended a hand for him to sit. Then she walked around to the other side and sat down.
No longer able to stand the suspense, he blurted, “How is she?”
“She’s okay physically. There is some bruising around her shoulder, but it wasn’t dislocated. It’ll be sore and stiff for a few days, but she should regain full use of it.”
She took off her glasses and ran a hand through her shoulder-length blond hair. “There’s a lot you’re going to have to deal with. I won’t candy-coat that for you. She’s undernourished and fighting off infection. In short, she’s run down and is going to need a while to recover properly.”
“Did they hurt her?” Ethan asked quietly. “I mean physically?”
Her face twisted in sympathy. “I didn’t find any recent evidence of sexual trauma. She was in captivity a long time, so it’s impossible to say what she may have endured early on. I drew blood, and I’ll test for STDs.”
Ethan swallowed and then swallowed again. He wanted to vomit at the thought of what those dirty bastards could have done to her. She’d been their prisoner, helpless, while he’d been a world away.
“It won’t do any good to torture yourself,” Dr. Scofield said gently. “And as I said, there isn’t any recent evidence of sexual assault. My gravest concern is the evidence of drug abuse.”
“They forced those on her,” Ethan said fiercely.
“I know. My concern is in not knowing what they gave her. The educated guess would obviously be cocaine given its accessibility in the geographic region where she was held captive. And indeed some of her withdrawal symptoms match those of cocaine withdrawal. However, as odd as it may sound, there’s evidence that she was injected routinely with heroin.”
Ethan closed his eyes against the sudden rush of rage and pain.
“Many of the symptoms she’s exhibited are indicative of heroin withdrawal. On a positive note, heroin withdrawal isn’t as long or as far-reaching as cocaine withdrawal. It’s nasty while it lasts, but is thankfully over in days as opposed to the extended cravings cocaine addicts have for months, and sometimes even longer.”
“And her memory? Is her memory damaged irreparably?” Ethan asked.
“I can’t say with medical certainty. The human brain is such a fascinating thing. Unpredictable. The drugs could have done damage to her brain. Whether it’s permanent, I can’t say. It could simply be a matter of the cobwebs not having time to clear yet. The longer she’s off the drugs, the better chance she has of the past coming back to her.”