AMIDST THE CATS' CRADLE - 19
C H A P T E R N I N E T E E N - - - - - G W E N
Gwen didn't seem to have stopped weeping in days.
Going from hardly thinking about a family to having two kids on her alone, to reuniting with their dads, only to come dangerously close to losing her boys, had taken such a toll on her that it was virtually impossible for her to function. She'd been sitting by her kids' beds since Mitch had departed for Quezon City — on a mission he wouldn't talk about, but that needed half of Squad Six to accompany him and Jordan to embrace him as if he may never return.
She wasn't sure if she should pray for her boys first, Mitch, or for all three of them at the same time. But when Mitch returned, looking as solemn as when he'd gone, she was relieved enough to take a breath again.
Duncan and Dawson were both on life support at this point, with chemically-induced comas placing them into a deep, presumably pleasant slumber and tubes breathing for them. It was terrifying to see her sons in that state while feeling absolutely helpless.
She felt as if she was counting down the minutes till the end. Ace hadn't showed his face since the talk she'd had with him before the Allens barged in, and Doctor Bishop was looking less and less hopeful with each passing day. After a time, it felt strangely therapeutic, like the feeling she imagined a person lost at sea must have had when the end looked impossibly close.
She knew if she lost the boys, she'd lose herself as well.
"Sugar, you need to eat something," Jordan remarked, his voice faraway as Gwen turned to face him. Duncan's stomach was wrapped, and her hand was on it to stop the flow.
The newborns' pores were now bleeding. Instead of perspiration, they had blood. She couldn't believe the world could be so harsh to a youngster.
"I, uh..." she stammered as he offered her coffee and a sandwich.
Gwen accepted the gift, raising the cup to her lips and not tasting anything as the liquid passed down her throat. It may have been really hot. A searing pain in the back of her throat alerted her, but it didn't seem essential.
She stared at Jordan again, and it was only then that she realized he was clothed in full battle gear, black fabric straining about his arms. Two dark streaks smudged his cheekbones under his eyes. She'd never seen him dressed for combat. She would have found him sexy as heck for that at any other moment.
"Where are you going?" she said abruptly, getting up, pouring the coffee over the rim and dropping the sandwich. "Are you on a mission?" ”
He nodded slowly, just in time for Mitch to stroll in through the door, dressed similarly. Her heart tightened as she noticed Mitch's effortless walk, like the step of a predator preparing to attack.
"You can't," Gwen murmured, her eyes widening.
Only one thought ran through her mind: I can't lose them too!
"We have to," Jordan replied as he placed his hands on her arms. "We've got a chance at something." We must go immediately or it will be too late."
"All we wanted to do was say our goodbyes." "You know, just in case something occurred," Mitch continued, drawing to a halt as his gaze was drawn to the two weak bodies in the small infant beds, connected up to every equipment imaginable.
“Where? When? " Gwen inquired, startled.
Her mind was spinning, her throat was parched, and her eyes were hurting from the endless tears she'd shed.
"We're leaving right away. We believe a laboratory in Cebu is working on the gas and PX-45. We can save them if we obtain enough of it. Bishop is certain about it. And I agree with his findings. It's the only option."
Her heart appeared to stop pounding in her chest for a brief minute as she moved her gaze from one man to the next. Were they really going to leave now, and they might not even make it back in time... she bit her lip cruelly and shook her head. "No, I'll accompany you."
“What? You can't, Gwen! Someone should remain with Duncan and Dawson! " Mitch objected, his fingers softly tracing Dawson's leg, which was wrapped up like the rest of him.
"How will you get to the bottom?" " she inquired succinctly, her mind racing to find out the specifics.
"We're going to buy armored trucks." "Jerome's friend—" Jordan began, but Gwen interrupted.
"Fuck it. You'll never be able to return in time. I have access to a Night Hawk helicopter. Give me 20 minutes. "Find me some gear," she clenched her teeth.
She kissed both Duncan and Dawson on the forehead before rising up ramrod straight, still clutching the wretched coffee and sandwich. As she rushed out of the room, she ripped the sandwich packaging open, and the first taste reminded her that she hadn't eaten in days.
She was going to need all the energy she could get if she was going to help save her boys.
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As Gwen had promised, they were in the armored vehicles in twenty minutes, her suited up like Squad Six, heading for a small helicopter pad in a very obscure location in Laguna. Right where the biggest mansions were built and the biggest startup billionaires lived, there was a tiny little spot nestled between expansive backyards and endless pools—a hangar with several decommissioned and rebuilt US Marine Corps helicopters.
She wasn’t sure that Squad Six really believed she’d pulled it off until they piled into the aircraft, with her hopping into the pilot’s seat, the engines already roaring and ready to go. Gwen let out a breath that she didn’t know she’d been holding when Troy, a large, steely-eyed man with a slightly lopsided grin, gave her a pat on the shoulder from the co-pilot’s seat and opened the door.
“She’s a bit bigger than the SuperCobra, but I don’t think you could fit those guys in one of yours,” he said with a chuckle. “You gonna be okay or will I strap right on in here?”
“No, Troy. Thanks. You don’t know what this…” she ran out of words, something that seemed to be happening really often lately, the high whir of the blades drowning out her stutter.
“Don’t sweat it. Just bring her back in one piece and tell me the story later, okay?”
He gave her a knowing look, leaning back in and squeezing her shoulder before hopping out and slamming the door shut behind him. A moment later, he was giving her the go-ahead to get airborne and Gwen let muscle memory take over. This was the work she knew, the work that was built into her. If she could harness it to help her kids, there wasn’t anything that was going to stop her.
She knew damn well that she could help more here—at least trying to fight for Duncan and Dawson—than if she were just sitting by their bedside, crying herself into a stupor.
“Everyone ready?” she asked, speaking into the headset.
“Lock and load!” came the Shifter Squad Six war cry and Gwen didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to know that every single man there was ready to fight and win for her kids.
It was a brotherhood, one that she had the good fortune of being tied to through the men who loved her and who she loved back with equal ferocity. She pulled up on the throttle and the heavy helicopter rose up from the pad and into the murky, muddled lights of nighttime Laguna.
There could be no failure.
