Cairo

chapter 13

authors note- HI IM STILL ALIVE SORRY omg it's been like 6 months since i updated this, i've been so busy with everything and totally forgot about it (sorry!!!) so anyway yeah, here's the next few chapters!

Denver and I had decided we would attend to Monica routinely, and on our first check in, we realised we both lacked the vital knowledge when it came to bullet wounds.

"Buenas Dias Miss Gaztambede!" I tried to seem cheery as we entered the vault to see Monica laying in her shirt and underwear on the floor, clearly in immense pain. Her wound was still bandaged and the first aid kit was spread out next to her from earlier.

"Oh Jesus..." Denver stared at the wound, as I unwrapped her blood soaked bandages slowly, giving him a look to stop him from scaring Monica even more than she already was.

"We're going to need to take the bullet out pretty soon." I murmured, tucking my hair behind my ears and examining the situation carefully.

Denver pulled out a small knife from his jumpsuit pocket, and knelt down beside Monica next to me.

"Woah woah, Jesus Denver-" I intervened. "That doesn't seem like a good idea."
Letting out a light laugh, I turned back to Monica, who's look of horror was replaced with a slight relief.

The three of us sat in silence for a bit, trying to come up with a plan on how to remove the bullet, but none of us had a clue what we were doing.
I thought back to the days in Toledo, when the Professor would try and educate us on basic first aid.

It seemed unnecessary back then, but now I was wishing I had payed more attention to the Professors words and demonstrations, rather than throwing paper planes at Nairobi, who kicked me from under her desk.
Everything had been so much simpler...

Snapping me back into the present, Denver opened the first aid kit, and produced a pack of pills.
"Are they safe?" Monica questioned, leaning over to read the label on the package.
"Sí, they're just pain killers." Denver nodded.
"She means for the baby Denver." I laughed, rolling my eyes and rummaging around inside the box, racking my brain for a solution.

After we had supplied Monica with the correct pills and some fresh bandages, we decided it would be best to leave the bullet in for a bit longer, delaying the inevitable.

I was still too shaken up from yesterday's and this mornings events, so my hands hadn't stopped trembling. And I knew I couldn't trust Denver to perform surgery on the poor women, so she would have to wait just a bit longer.

"The bullet may not even need to be taken out by tomorrow, it may push itself out." I began, then realising how stupid it sounded saying it out loud. Who was I kidding?? I had no idea what I was talking about.
I didn't want to worry Monica, talking about it too much, but I also didn't want to give her false hope, the wound looked bad, but I was fairly sure it wasn't fatal.

Sealing the vault, Denver and I made our way back, both silently praying for the woman's health as we left her unaccompanied again for a few more hours.

The walk back had been awkward to say the least. It was one of our first times alone together after my breakdown and finding out what he did to my Papa. I wanted desperately to forgive him, and I could tell he was trying his best to give me space. Denver and I had once had an unbreakable bond, but now my memories of us back in Toledo were tainted red with anger and betrayal.
Moscow had tried to persuade me that Denver had put the gang behind him, and had moved on from his past, yet I still struggled to find forgiveness in my heart.

Making our way back upstairs in silence, we were suddenly aware of the muffled shouts coming from the main hall. Denver raised his eyebrows at me in confusion, and as we arrived into the hall, my attention was drawn to the bunch of hostages crowding around the main entrance.

"What's going on??!" I asked Tokyo who was frantically rushing towards the group with her gun in hand.

"It's Moscow." She replied quickly, shooting a concerned glance at Denver.

As we ran over to the group with Tokyo, the main entrance doors began to slide slowly open, and Moscow was stood in the middle of the doorway. Without his mask on.