A Secret Service [NOW PUBLISHED]

Chapter 44 - "Who am I speaking to?"

Donovan jerked his head up. From the feed covering the main gates, they could see a line of SUV's and SWAT cars entering the school grounds. Carter felt a flood of relief. Donovan stared as if he wasn't sure what he was seeing.

"How'd they know?" he asked.

Carter shook her head, her eyes still glued to the screen. "Must have been my tracker. It's the only explanation."

Donovan took a seat beside Carter. The line of cars fanned out, creating a perimeter on the inside of the school gates. The instant they stopped moving doors were flung open and hordes of men in full body gear clambered out. All Carter and Donovan could do was stare, the pressure of their solitude lifted. In the safety of the security room, watching their help arrive, their hyper awareness eased up.

A man in a black suit, wearing a FBI bullet proof vest, stepped out of one of the SUVs followed by more hard faced men dressed in similar attire. From the second his foot hit the ground, the man was barking out orders that neither Carter or Donovan could hear. But one thing was clear, this was the man in charge. Within minutes, stations were up and troops of men were formed into packs and ready to move on command.

As the scene continued to unraveled on the lawn of the school, Carter became aware of the ache in her arm. The dull throbbing pulled her from the mystified stupor she had been in. With the return of her thoughts, she noticed the time and was shocked to realize it had been less than an hour since the alarm had gone off.

She shifted back in her chair, wincing. The expression broke Donovan from his daze and he looked at her.

"Your arm?" he asked.

She nodded. She looked down at it, eyeing the sleeve that was now thoroughly ruined. Looking at Donovan, she raised her arm.

"You mind?" she asked.

He rolled his chair closer to her, his legs bumping against hers. She leaned towards him, offering up her other sleeve. In one smooth motion, he ripped it off and moved to her wounded arm. Carefully, he held her arm, eyeing the amount of blood she had lost. His fingers were warm as they steadied the limb and tied the new bandage over the old. Carter looked down at her bare arms then up at Donovan.

His face was only a few inches away from hers.

"I don't think the ripped shirt is my look," she said.

"I don't know," he said, his voice low. "I could argue a few points in its defense."

He stared at her. In his blue eyes were all the emotions Carter felt. Her heart jumped a few beats before quickening its pace. The feel of his fingers on her arm still lingered. In that moment, she had the strongest urge to tear both their masks off and kiss him; ignoring the consequences of the remaining knock out gas. She could see in his face the same thoughts playing through his mind.

They both shifted closer.

The sharp buzz of a radio in the room shattered the moment.

They froze, jolted from the intensity of emotions racing through them. Donovan pulled back first, breaking their connection.

"Agent Porter come in," a baritone voice commanded.

Carter and Donovan went searching for the radio. The command came once more as Donovan found it.

"Agent Porter is currently unconscious," Donovan said, rushing to answer, "as well as the rest of the security team."

It was then that Carter became aware of the other set of men that were zip tied and comatose in the far corner of the room. She looked to the screens. The gray haired man glared at the front doors, as he held a radio similar to the one in Donovan's hand.