It was a strange scene, a strange situation, while in the background so shots still rang out by the IF agents, Jas and the others just stood in the driveway in the blood, in between dead bodies and mangled flesh, with that nose-hurting ill scent that ca from it, the blood, the gunpowder mixed together… it was awful… and in the middle of it was the question:
Where is Ferucci?
The question which Jas knew the answer to at least he guessed it because Eric's eyes were telling. Despair and fear in them told the story on its own. Not even to ntion the blood on him. But it also sent a panic through Jas, even though he didn't look like soone who was panicking, but shit, he was. Because if Ferucci had died, it only ant that he and Hector were the last ones left in the family. And if that's what happened, it would only send Jas deeper into the darkness, even just the thought of it, that now he had lost the second mber of the family. That he lost sobody who was a key figure, sobody who kept up the image of a family… to not let people even think about fucking them over.
But not just that… it would also an he lost a friend again… because of his selfish decisions.
It ant he was exactly going down the path as Lucian did, because even though Jas didn't do anything to hurt them, he was the one that sent him to Marco's house.
"Where is he?" Jas asked, and Hector imdiately heard from his voice that it isn't the sa Jas. No, it was him… who he feared the most.
Not just him, Thomas too got just more worried that Jas might snap and do sothing really dumb… and well, Eric already thought that he was going to be killed, but he needed to say it.
"He got hit and lost a lot of blood…" He looked up, and Hector's expression imdiately changed, his mouth opening while Jas remained silent, still looking with those eyes. "Dilian, our dic, evacuated him, and they went to the hospital."
"Call him." Two words. Two simple words. Nothing to fear about, but Eric was almost shitting himself and imdiately pulled out the phone and called.
It rang once, twice, then nothing. Nobody answered the phone, and well, because they were rushing.
They arrived at the hospital earlier, where Dilian and the two people who went with him grabbed Ferucci first, storming into the hospital while blood spilled everywhere. It was a scene that those people would never forget who sat in the waiting area.
Even the doctors and nurses were confused as three n, fully equipped with weapons, looking like soldiers, rushed in with another one in their hands while blood was dropping everywhere.
Maybe this was their luck… because the doctors thought they were soldiers, they were agents… because the hospital that was the nearest to them was a private one. A hospital well known for the fact that it actually supported Takoi Mario, the mayor whom Ferucci himself tortured and killed brutally.
Yeah, they stepped into a hospital where every employee was against criminals, against Bellini, and supported Takoi. They even attended his funeral… what luck that they looked like soldiers, what luck that no one actually knew how Ferucci looked like.
But the luckiest thing is that Dilian knew exactly to not say his na out loud.
"Help us!" He shouted, and in the mont, the doctors rushed to them and put Ferucci onto a stretcher. "He has a shrapnel wound on the left side, upper ribcage area. I gave him two shots of adrenaline and a shot of morphine!" He shouted as they pushed him away.
But as he looked down, Ferucci was already out.
His hand was hanging down while his eyes were rolled back, but he was sure of it… that his heart was still beating, still fighting.
"Stay out!" A doctor shouted as they rolled him into a surgery room and then looked at Dilian and said with the most confident voice "We will save him."
Dilian heard it many tis, "We will save him" and then they all died. The word which just sent more panic in him.
"Fuck…" He whispered as he stood in front of the door and could hear the doctors inside prepping, the machine beeping.
"Here, co!" A nurse shouted as Dilian's mates brought in two more guys and then a nurse stepped to him.
"His na, blood type, is he allergic to sothing?" She asked in a hurried voice.
"What?"
"His na, your colleague's na. What is it?"
"I can't say it… he is part of the ISB agency." Dilian made up a lie, but his eyes didn't waver, nor his voice. He was straight and believable. Because there was no way these guys were lying, she thought and well, everybody around, as they saw the guns, the grenades on them… they believed it. "His blood type is O." Another luck that he actually knew it, that he actually knew almost every top mber's blood type from the sa exact reason: if sothing happens, he can act or at least try to help.
She wrote down on the paper and looked up at him. "Then just wait, okay? And try to calm down." She said as she looked at Dilian and saw the blood covering his whole body.
She could even think about the nightmare he went through.
"Okay…" He whispered and just turned around, walking toward the chairs and sat down.
He didn't care about the brutal scent of the blood, the gunpowder, or any of it. Ferucci was his only thought… and the past. He thought about the mories, the nightmares, the PTSD he had when he left the army. The guys who died under his arms. Those young guys he couldn't save.
He feared it was going to happen again… that again, he failed those he was trained to save.
Dilian was totally fucked. He started seeing things that weren't even there, his ears ringing, his breath short and to many. He was panicking. He felt like the world itself was swallowing him down, he couldn't deal with—
"Dilian." A voice and a tap on his shoulder.
"Your phone."
One of the n who ca with him held out the phone toward him, and the caller was Eric.
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