Retribution (SSU Trilogy Book 3) (The Surgical Strike Unit) by Vanessa Kier Page A

man’s mouth and nose.
    “Christ.” Rafe grabbed Dr. Montague’s arm, holding her back from touching the man. “Are you nuts? You can’t touch them without gloves.”
    She ignored him, twisting to get free. “Let me go. I need to help him.”
    “How?” Jurgenson demanded. He moved his own flashlight toward the sound of choking coming from his left. “Here’s another one. Fucking bleeding from every hole he’s got.” He quickly spotlighted every unconscious man, but only those two were bleeding.
    Jurgenson glared at Dr. Montague as if it were all her fault. “You got some miracle cure, sister? ‘Cause otherwise, these men are dead.”
    “There is no cure,” Dr. Montague snapped. She jerked free of Rafe’s grip and turned the choking man onto his side, tipping his face slightly down so that the bloody froth spilled onto the truck floor. When the man stopped choking, she slid one of her thighs forward, then set his head on her leg.
    She returned Jurgenson’s glare. “I just want to make him more comfortable before he dies.” Her voice thrummed with frustrated anger that contrasted with the gentleness of her actions. Pulling a tissue from her pants pocket, she wiped the man’s face.
    On the opposite side of the truck, Jurgenson scowled and mirrored her actions.
    Rafe raised his brow. Jurgenson was former Force Recon with a bedside personality like a pit viper. All the men were wary of him. The worse they were hurt, the surlier his mood and the more forceful his treatment. They’d all learned to keep their mouths shut and play submissive.
    Watching Dr. Montague put the surly medic in his place totally turned Rafe on. He loved confident, intelligent women. Add compassionate and brave and he was in trouble.
    Rafe wet his handkerchief from his canteen and handed it to her. She flicked him a grateful smile then stroked the damp cloth over her patient’s face. Watching her tend the man so gently, Rafe had to admire her strength. Her body was still shivering slightly, but all her focus was on the dying man.
    The man coughed, then gave a wheezing death sigh. Dr. Montague gently closed his lids and murmured some benediction Rafe couldn’t make out, before sliding her legs out from under his head.
    She ran her hands up and down her arms. “They didn’t have to die like this,” she said almost too quietly for Rafe to hear. “He could have changed the formula.”
    Rafe removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. “Here,” he said. “Come sit down.” He led her over to the side of the truck as nearby, the man in Jurgenson’s arms gasped out his last breath.
    Dr. Montague slid down to the floor, pulled her knees to her chest, and wrapped his coat tighter around her torso as she tilted her head back against the wall. “Why,” she breathed, rolling her head back and forth. “Why didn’t Kaufmann care that his formula killed?”
    A single tear slid down her cheek, breaking Rafe’s heart. She’d cried way too much tonight. He wished he could have spared her tears.
    “If Kaufmann is the same man we think he is, all that matters to him is the end result.”
    “To create the ultimate soldier,” she supplied wearily. “A man deprived of all traces of humanity in order to protect our country.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t wish that on our worst enemy.”
    Rafe couldn’t argue with her. He looked over to where Nate lay unconscious. Nate had chosen to serve his country. To place his life on the line. But he’d never volunteered to give up his humanity. And because that choice had been forced on him, Nate was going to die a horrible death.
    Dr. Montague lifted her head and stared at Jurgenson as he eased the dead man onto the floor of the truck. Another tear slipped free, then she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the truck wall.
    She was silent for so long, Rafe thought she’d fallen asleep.
    “You’ve heard of Kaufmann,” she said, not opening her eyes. “How? Are you