Chapter 42: I Win Against Hector
A/N: Everyone send a kind PM to Mantlady and Lyllyn for their assistance with the medical information in this chapter!
Also, if you were angry with Ranger in the last chapter, please raise your hands (counts hands…..one hand please….LOL…..). GOOD!
Steph’s POV
I spent the entire trip back to Trenton watching over Hector. He thought it was funny.
“Angelita, I am fine. Do you intend to mother me all the way home?”
“Yes. You’re moving stiffly and holding that arm funny. I had to help you dress this morning.”
I sat back. I think men have a blind spot for pain and injuries. Hector was moving like an 80-year-old man with a walker: slowly, carefully and painfully whenever his arm hit something. He was also breathing funny. He swore he was fine, but even if I had to knock him out (somehow) he was going straight to the hospital when we hit Trenton. I wanted to check him into a hospital in Miami, but he was determined to get out of Florida and Ranger agreed.
“Don’t argue, buddy. I hate flying, my partner’s been shot, and Ranger and I had a fight last night. Now is not the time to make me mad.”
Hector looked over, concern on his face. “You and he fought?” he whispered, his eyebrows coming together. “Or you argued?”
Hector’s face suggested I should clear that up. “We argued. About the fact that he didn’t tell me you thought you might be shot. About the fact that you didn’t tell me you thought you might be shot. About the attitudes of the Miami men to women.” I sighed and flopped back in the seat, then remembered that sudden movements might cause the plane to destabilize, leading to a crash. I glanced out the window, but first class doesn’t give a good view of the plane’s wings.
Hector patted my hand. “OK, tell Tío Hector what the argument was about,” he whispered in a sing-song voice.
I looked at him, at the silly face he was making, and giggled. I can never really stay mad around Hector for long. “I thought that regardless of the situation, if there was a possibility you were going to be shot, he should have told me. You’re my partner and I should have known. He disagreed. He said there was no need to ruin our last night at home and that it was only a possibility that you were going to be shot. Not definite enough for me to come back to RangeMan about,” I whispered back. “Why are we whispering?”
“Because you never know who’s around you. Best to stay quiet until you’ve verified your surroundings. Try not to use his name.”
“Paranoid.”
Hector nodded. “He isn’t even supposed to be in the country. If someone were listening, we don’t want to give it away. His counterintel op is working. Let’s not ruin it by being too loud on the plane.”
I sat back. “You’re avoiding this discussion, Hector.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And what discussion would that be?”
“The fact that you didn’t call me to tell me you thought you might be shot.”
“It was unnecessary. You were offline. I did not want to interrupt your last night with him.”
I stared at Hector. “Thank you.” He raised an eyebrow. “For treating me with the same disrespect he did.” His eyes widened. “Tell me, if I thought that I was going to be shot, but I didn’t call you to tell you in advance, then I was shot, what would you say? How would you feel?” Hector’s mouth thinned. “I don’t care that it was only a possibility. I should have been told.”
Hector was silent for a few minutes before he sat back with a sigh. “And you are right, Angelita. I would have been furious. I apologize. I should have called you. I can only say, in my defense, that I am accustomed to acting alone, as are you. Tell me, would you have called me?”
My lips twitched. “No. Which is why you’re getting off so easily this time.”
Hector grinned and he reached for and squeezed my hands. “We will adjust. We are partners. We must be honest with each other. No acting as lone wolves.”
Good. I spent the plane ride trying not to think about Ranger’s points this morning, about Hector’s being prepared to be shot versus my being unprepared to be shot. I hated acknowledging that he may have a point there. Hector has a lot of pride, but he still walked out in the middle of the group, allowing the other RangeMen to cover him. He wore a vest. He assumed the worst and prepared for it. I don’t think I’ve ever done that.
I complain about having RangeMen as partners, but if they had not been there last night/this morning, Hector might have died.
Sobering thought and one I didn’t want to dwell on right then.
I also didn’t want to think about how neatly Ranger side-stepped the issue about the Miami men. He doesn’t like their attitudes, but they learned how to treat women from him. Or, maybe they didn’t learn it from him, but he’s allowed it. Telling me that Armando tried to run an attitude adjustment on that office makes me respect Armando more (at least he tried to solve the problem), but . . . I respect Ranger less for it. After all, he said he would have broken anyone in Trenton who treated Ella like the Miami men treat Maria. So why didn’t he show Maria the same respect? Why did he allow the Miami men to treat Maria so badly?
Why isn’t he trying to take care of the problem now? He’s sending Ella in to clean up his mess. I don’t like it. And again, he moved Ella without telling me. I should have known. Someone should have told me before now that Ella was going to Miami.
Dangerous thoughts and not the kind I needed to concentrate on. The pilot needed help. I needed to keep an eye on the wings.
“Right.” I sighed, nodded and sat back, eyeing Hector’s chest. “You’re going to the hospital the moment you hit Trenton.”
“No,” Hector replied, stubbornly.
“Yes, or I call and tell Hector Manuel that his Tío Hector is a wimp.” I smirked.
Hector glared at me. “He wouldn’t believe you.”
“I’m his favorite lap. And I’ll tell Nikki that you’re being stubborn.”
All the fight went out of Hector then. “Fine. But I’m worse than you are at a hospital.”
Not possible.
Possible. Hector refuses to be cooperative in any way and, given my reputation at the hospital, it’s clear the nurses are surprised that I’m fighting with someone else to be reasonable.
“Hector, this is insane! I’m a better patient than you are! It’s just a simple test, just to check your heart and make sure everything is fine.”
Hector scowls. “Not needed. They checked my vitals, confirmed I’m alive for you, what more do you want?”
“I want to know you won’t fall over dead tomorrow. And if you don’t get into that wheelchair, I’ll . . . I’ll . . .” Inspiration hits and I lean over and whisper my threat in Hector’s ear. He looks at me in amusement.
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would.” I turn to the nurse. “What floor?”
“He’ll have to take the wheelchair.” Hector gazes at her until she fidgets. “7th floor.”
Hector turns to me. “I do not fear her. I’m only doing this because I haven’t prepared for the next fight in our war. Otherwise, there’s no way I would allow this.”
I love my grandma. I need to know what she whispered to him at dinner.
Hector walks up to the 7th floor and submits, ungraciously, to the X-rays. This is another eye opener. For once, I get a chance to see how badly I behave in the hospital. I still hate hospitals and I refuse to stay in one, but watching Hector showed me that if I just let them get on with the tests, I could be in and out much faster. Especially with Bobby, or in this case, Zero, moving things along.
Zero met us in Philly and had all the necessary tests scheduled back-to-back at St. Francis, in Trenton, to get us in and out of the hospital, but Hector was being stubborn about each one. He glared at Zero so many times that Zero had taken to hanging out with the doctors, giving me time to hiss angrily in Hector’s ears.
“¿Por qué necesito un EKG?” (Why do I need an EKG?)
“Because I want to know you’ll live.” I’m annoyed. Zero looks amused, but he’s doing a good job doing translation services.
“¿Qué te hace pensar que no lo hará?” (What makes you think I won’t?)
“Because those bruises have gotten bigger since yesterday.”
“Ultrasound is next,” Zero supplies helpfully. “El ultrasonido es el siguiente.”
Hector glares at him and Zero finds a spot on the wall to become very interested in. He looks at me and I’m near tears. The sight seems to soften him. His shoulders droop.
“Está bien. EKG, luego ultrasonido.” (Fine. EKG, then ultrasound.)
Hector glares at me, but I’m unmoved. I might not be able to hold his back in the field right now, but I can damn well ensure he gets the best medical care. I love my partner. I want him to live. The nurse comes by and clips Hector’s finger for an oxygen reading.
“No puedo creer que esté sometiéndose a toda esta locura. Lágrimas. Por el amor de Dios, ¿cómo es un hombre supuestamente para luchar contra las lágrimas? Desleal. Mi hermano no sabrá qué lo golpeó. Me pregunto si ella usa lágrimas sobre él. . .” (I can’t believe I’m submitting to all this foolishness. Tears. For God’s sake, how is any man supposed to fight tears? Unfair. My brother won’t know what hit him. I wonder if she uses tears on him . . .)
Lágrimas? I look at Zero but he shakes his head, smiling. “Angry mutters. You don’t want to know.”
I raise an eyebrow and he hides a smile. “OK, you want to know, but it’s more of the same. We’re men. Pain is nothing.”
I sniff and pick up a two year old People Magazine.
Men.
The EKG shows no problems with Hector’s heart, but I’m keeping an eye on those bruises. They’ve gotten darker since yesterday and I’m scared. The ultrasound showed ecchymosis, hematomas, which Zero explains means pooling of blood under Hector’s skin. That’s why the bruises have gotten darker.
The X-rays come back. Hector has a fractured scapula.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Broken shoulder blade,” Zero replies. The doctor nods and Hector looks irritated. “He got lucky that it didn’t hit the socket.” Zero explains a bunch of stuff to Hector in Spanish and the longer the explanation, the more Hector’s face relaxes. By the end, he’s calm, if annoyed. His mouth is set in a hard line.
Zero turns to me. “Treatment of a broken scapula, shoulder blade, is minimal. We’ll put him in a shoulder sling for about a month, maybe six weeks. We’ll get him home and ice it down, alternating ice and heat for the next 48 hours. Pain relief as needed. We’ll schedule massages starting in two weeks after another ultrasound because we don’t want to affect those hematomas. We want those to decrease on their own. Also, physical therapy for the shoulder starting in a week or two so it doesn’t get stiff. Everything is going to be based on his pain levels.”
I nod. “Can you handle that or should I ask Sarah to add Hector onto her rotation?”
Hector growls but I ignore him. Zero looks ready to bolt. “I think you should,” he looks at Hector, “umm … I think you should ask Hector.”
“You ask him, but make sure he understands I want what’s best. After all, he’s going to want to pick up Hector Manuel and teach him to swim this summer. He’s going to need that shoulder.”
Bingo! All fight leaves Hector at the mention of his beloved son.
Zero asks Hector what he wants and Hector says he’d work with Sarah. Might as well get our money’s worth out of her. Plus, while I’m swimming, he can relax his shoulder in the whirlpool. Meanwhile, I call Connie for the name of a masseuse who can work on Hector twice a week until he’s better. She gives me the name of a woman she knows and I call and schedule twice a week appointments for myself and Hector. I still have physical therapy too. Might as well schedule a massage.
The doctor returns with a shoulder sling for Hector and I glare at him until he allows them to put it on him. Actual total time in hospital: four hours. Possible total time in hospital: 2½ hours, if Hector weren’t so difficult.
Hmm. Something new to consider. Later.
On the way back to RangeMan, my phone rings. Bobby.
“Yo!”
“Yo! Nice job, Bomber.”
“RangeMan phone manners still suck. I’m still going to modify SOPs for that.”
Bobby laughs. “Good luck. We’re men. We don’t spend unnecessary time on the phone.”
“And yet we’re chatting and you haven’t gotten to the purpose of this call.”
“Well, I’m talking to a woman, so I thought I might modify, but if it’s not necessary—”
“No, no! I’m enjoying it. So, tell me, what have you done new with your hair?”
Zero snorts then coughs to hide a laugh. He quickly translates the conversation over to Hector, who smiles and shakes his head. Bobby is definitely laughing on the other end of the phone.
“Well, the San Antonio heat is really making me rethink the braids. I’m thinking a low fade now, maybe work on putting some waves in. You? Thinking of chemically straightening?”
This is absolutely silly. I’m laughing at this point.
“I keep thinking I want to cut. You know, something cute and curly.”
“You might want to avoid that, Bomber. Remember the egg incident?”
Do the RangeMen have my mishaps mentally categorized? How does Bobby remember that?
“It was an interesting cut. Hard to forget.”
I have to stop talking out loud. “OK, now that we’ve discussed hair, what’s up? This is random.”
“Yeah, I know.” Bobby’s voice is quiet and serious. “I’m flying in tomorrow to fire Liam. We heard from Manny yesterday. He’s got him stitched up and the lawyers have reviewed. Airtight in Manny’s opinion and, since the attorneys never lost a case taken to trial on his evidence when he was a feeb, I believe him. Time for Liam to go.”
I sit back. I want to be there. There was absolutely no way I was going to miss this firing. But Hector needs me more.
“OK. I need to see how Hector’s feeling and I need to arrange something.”
“Why? What happened?”
I sigh. “I think I better let him tell you.” I pass the phone to Hector and sit back. It takes Hector ten minutes to discuss what had happened with Bobby. Hector passes the phone to Zero and I assume Zero spends ten minutes discussing Hector’s care plan with Bobby. Both discussions were in Spanish and Zero’s had too many new words. Finally, Zero passes the phone back to me.
“OK, Steph?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll stay long enough to check Hec personally, OK?”
I can feel the tears well up and my throat tightens. “Thanks, Bobby.”
“De nada. Look, are you sure you want to be there? You don’t have to be. We can stream it to you.”
“No. I want to be there. I need to be there. He spread lies and made me doubt Manny for a half second. I need to pay him back for that,” I hiss angrily.
“Rowwwrr,” Bobby says, and I laugh again. “OK. Well, I’m flying in tomorrow. Firing will be Sunday morning, 0500 . . . sorry, 5AM. It’s about two hours from Trenton to RM-NYC, so plan accordingly. I think I’d feel better if you brought Ram or Hal with you. Hector and I talked it over. Let Hector stay home and rest with Zero watching over him. That way, if anything changes, Zero can call you immediately.”
“OK.”
“I’m not staying long. Just long enough to authorize the lawyers to file suit, fire Liam, and let Javi know Leadership Core supports him. I’ll probably drive back with you on Sunday afternoon and fly from Philly on Monday or Tuesday.”
“OK, sounds like a plan. I’ll see you Sunday.” We disconnect and Hector turns around.
“Vas despedir a Liam en persona. Me quedaré en casa. Voy a estar bien.” (You will go and fire Liam in person. I’ll stay home. I’ll be fine.)
Zero translates and I nod. I may be able to squeak out a win here. “I’ll go only if you move to RangeMan for a week.”
Hector’s mouth sets. “No soy un invalid.” (I’m not an invalid.)
“It would make me feel better. I’ll go with Ram and we’ll come right back. You can watch my trackers.” Hector’s mouth is still in a hard line. “Please, Hector. I would worry less if I knew Zero was right there.”
Hector stares at me but finally he nods. He turns to Zero. “Si dices a cualquiera que ella me obligo quedar en el edificio por un sentido de culpa yo te rebane.” (You tell anyone she guilted me into staying in the building and I’ll slice you.)
Zero nods. “Me perdí esa conversación por completo. ¿Se suponía que lo han escuchado?” (I missed that conversation entirely. Was I supposed to have heard it?)
I smile. I caught enough of their conversation to understand. I won.
Hector’s apartment is a techie’s dream, I guess. There are at least five computers, monitors, big spindles of DVDs, and magazines on computer equipment and technology everywhere. There’s a flat black box on the floor, which Zero later told me looked like a server, and lots of books, big thick books. I flip open the pages and get a headache. I think Hector must be working on a Master’s degree in something. The books are heavy enough.
Hector and Zero move to Hector’s bedroom and I stay in the smaller bedroom where I find an iPad. I think quickly and enter Hector Manuel’s birthday. Hector told me, offhand, when we were in Atlanta, because he was trying to come up with a gift. I get it right on the fourth try, and it isn’t a straightforward MMDD combination. It was DD + 2, MM +2, for his current age. Pays to think like Hector.
I notice a big red dot on the screen and touch it. Mijo, the bubble says, so that must be Hector Manuel in Atlanta. Curiously, the bubble shows him at the RangeMan building. I also see another bubble in pink. Pri. Ah. Primo. So that’s Nikki. Interesting that none of us are identified by name. I keep looking, zooming out and searching, and find a yellow dot. I’ll bet . . . Ang. Yup, I’m tagged inside Hector’s home. Blue dot in Texas. . . Méd. Médico? Doctor? Bobby. Ah . . . Brown dot . . . I’ll bet this is Tank. Tác . . . No idea. Hmm . . . Green dot . . . Cuc . . . No idea.
Black dot near Miami moving fast. Tig. No clue, but it has to be Ranger. Hmm . . . so no matter what, Hector has us all tagged. He knows where everyone is. I zoom back to my dot and find another dot right next to it. Purple.
“Mine.”
I jump a foot in the air. Hector smirks and I can hear Ranger in my head. “Don’t say it,” I moan. He nods.
I point at the blue dot. “Bobby.” Brown dot. “Tank.” Green dot. “Lester.”
Great. So even though I can’t figure out the bubbles, I understand the color scheme. No need to ask about black.
I stay out of the way while Hector and Zero pack enough clothes for a month at Trenton. They come out of the bedroom with a medium sized suitcase. Hector has a soft-sided briefcase, as does Zero.
I gape at it. “Where’s the rest of your clothes?” I ask, taking the briefcase from him. We have a tug of war for a moment before he finally gives up and raises an eyebrow.
Zero translates and they look at each other. Hector smirks.
“Llevamos SWAT negro durante el día. Aparte de bóxers limpias y calcetines, algunos con ropa casual y un traje, ¿qué más necesito?” (We wear black SWAT all day. Other than clean boxers and socks, a few casual clothes and a suit, what more do I need?)
I merely blink. Men. My entire wardrobe is in Ranger’s closet now.
We arrive back at RMTrenton and Hector moves slowly and cautiously into the building. I walk in, expecting to call Ella when I realize Ella isn’t here. Maria is. We move to the fourth floor and inside Apartment 1 when we spot her, making the bed.
Maria is a tall, shapely woman somewhere around 50. Her warm brown eyes immediately widen at the sight of Hector and she takes his arm and moves him to the bedroom. Before Zero and I can say anything, she has Hector stripped to his boxers and tucked in bed with the remote and a glass of water. She starts dabbing cream on him and Hector is watching this with a look of bemused astonishment on his face.
“Those are horrific looking bruises Hector, so you will stay in the bed for a few days and rest.” She turns to Zero, who is trying hard not to smile. “Is he on bed rest?”
“If you can get him to stay there. And he only speaks Spanish.”
Maria nods and turns back to Hector with a flurry of what sounds like orders. I don’t think Ella would even attempt this, but Maria is not allowing an argument.
I think my partner is in very good hands and I already have a reason to like Maria.
Ranger’s POV
The morning is quiet. I ask Armando to gather all the men in Conference 1 for a five minute meeting.
When I arrive, it’s silent.
“I’m running an op.” The men nod. “It’s domestic. The fact that I’m stateside needs to stay classified. If I hear chatter in Boston, if Hector hears chatter in the network, I will find out and I will eliminate. No one will find your body. No exceptions.”
Every man swallows hard. Now they understand the severity of the situation.
I turn to Shane. “You, follow me.” I turn to the company. “Dismissed.”
Shane follows me to my office. I shut the door behind him.
“You are fighting for your life right now.”
His eyes widen and he nods.
“I haven’t liked what I’ve heard so far. Javier will remain in place. Liam is being fired.” I wait a moment and let that sink in. “Bobby is handling his firing.”
Shane sways slightly and swallows hard. I may be known for taking men to the mats and leaving them in pain, Tank may be known for giving concussions and Lester may be known for a thousand small cuts, but Bobby? Bobby is the ultimate punishment on the mats. Even I bow to his superiority. It’s why Bobby rarely gives mat time. When Bobby gives mat time, men are out for months in debilitating pain. That man uses his knowledge of the human body to make every cell hurt.
Bobby is the person who does ‘exit interviews’ in the rare event of a termination.
“You have one quarter to prove you know what you’re doing. Otherwise, Bobby will conduct your exit interview also. Understood?”
Shane nods, looking like a bobble head. “Sir, yes, sir!”
“Dismissed.”
The house doesn’t feel the same without Steph here. It seems empty and cold. As usual, Babe came into my personal space and gave it life and without her, I almost don’t want to stay here. I spend the rest of the morning cleaning and I can’t move anywhere in the house without thinking about the time we spent here together. Jesus! I have to clear my mind of her before I start shuffling through intel again. Finally, I give up. I grill the leftover fish and have a salad and decide to call this an off day.
I can see some changes in Steph already. She’s . . . well, she’s definitely dropped some weight. Her entire body looks good, taut. She carries herself differently. She’s not more aware, not by a long shot, but . . . I can’t describe it. Mature? The Steph I knew would never take offline time to check in with work. She didn’t give me hell about eating healthy. Hell, she didn’t even put up a fight about the exercise. She wasn’t curious to know everything all the time. She just kinda sat back and went with the flow.
It put me on guard at first, wondering if something was going on, but I realized that she was really kicking back and enjoying the break from work. I hope she enjoyed the little time we had to sneak away by ourselves. Hearing her say that she understood my need for solitude, that she also saw 7 as her sanctuary now filled me with quiet joy. She understood. After a hard day of work, I want quiet and peace. I’m not interested in a night in the clubs or trying to listen to inane chatter. Now that she had the struggles of my day, she understood my needs better.
My Babe is finally starting to understand the pressures of my life. I felt as if I had a partner this week, someone who cared about my interests and understood my lifestyle. I finally felt as if we could truly have a relationship. Even with last night’s fight, I still felt as if she’d grown up a little. We actually talked . . . actually, I talked. I see now what Les meant about needing to show her emotions. I took the time to explain my reasoning to her (which felt weird and uncomfortable) and we both said what we needed to. We had an argument. We resolved it. Neither of us ran away.
I sit back on the patio and smile.
Neither of us ran away.
Hector’s dot system:
Red: Mijo – my son, for Hector Manuel
Pink: Pri – Primo (cousin), for Nikki
Yellow: Ang – Angelita (Little Angel) for Stephanie
Blue: Méd – Médico (Doctor) for Bobby
Brown: Tác – Tácito (Taciturn) for Tank
Green: Cuc – Cuchillas (Blades) for Lester
Black: Tig – El Tigre (The Tiger) for Ranger
Purple: Ase – Asesino (Assassin) for Hector
