CHAPTER 18 - TRIAGE:

  Two hours ago.

  Despite the short notice, the triage center assembled at the ambulance bay ran like a machine.

  And as a machine, it wasn’t warm, nor a comforting, but a precise, well-oiled system that had been deployed in similar situations before.

  Temporary tents stood in disciplined rows, canvas taut, entrances clearly marked. Portable lights mounted atop metal poles flooded the improvised space with the yellow-orange glow of sodium lamps. Carts rolled along pre-cleared paths while the hospital staff barked orders or demanded supplies to one another.

  Leo stood near the edge of it all, just outside the tents, arms crossed tight over his chest. He greeted some of the other DAIR officers as he spotted them. Only two faces had been familiar, but most recognized him, nodding their heads in respect toward the lion.

  He’d been told to ‘observe and assist’.

  Truth be told, they wanted his massive frame as a warning for people not be stupid. It wasn’t the first time that had happened, and probably it wouldn’t be the last.

  Rolling his shoulder, he again cursed not having spare gear with him.

  The set he wore was a loaner, a few sizes too small, forcing him to leave it open. His combat vest was still functional, but it was smeared with grime and dried blood. Not ideal when you were trying not to panic people fresh from a fight.

  Everyone who came from the Stockyard had an aura of stench to them. Survivors spilled out slowly from a DAIR’s bus, herded by enforcers in full gear: vendors, civilians. All bloodied and half-dazed. Some with clothes torn, soaked, or half-burned. Their furs drenched in dirty water and filth. Some would look around as if expecting the other shoe to drop.

  Leo remained near the triage line, positioned exactly where the chief of surgery had put him. Not inside the tents. Not blocking traffic. Just close enough that everyone could see him.

  Hospital staff moved around him with visible relief.

  That was interesting. When he’d been pacing the hospital halls earlier, they’d acted as if his presence was unnerving. Here, it had the opposite effect.

  Most of the stockyard folk were predators themselves. A few of the stray stares he caught were openly challenging. But not all. Some avoided looking at him at all. A few instinctively pulled back when he shifted, fear sharpening their movements.

  Leo crouched smoothly as a ram with a broken horn stumbled on some cables. He caught the man easily, one paw steadying his shoulders.

  “You’re safe,” Leo rumbled, voice low and even. “Medics are right here.”

  After the initial flinch caused by the bigger predator, the ram nodded mutely, breathing hard, before being guided away. Leo straightened, eyes sweeping the ambulance bay once more.

  Time dragged for the next half hour. It looked like it was going to be an easy assignment, until it wasn’t.

  He faintly heard raised voices somewhere down the line. They only grew louder. With a tired sigh, the lion started walking in that direction. Better to nip it in the bud before it escalated.

  A shout. It felt angry and panicked.

  CRACK.

  The gunshot echoed through the open bay.

  A nurse flinched. Several people being triaged dropped to the floor.

  It felt like someone had hit the pause button on the world. For a split second, everything and everyone froze — then motion erupted everywhere at once.

  People recoiled, panic rippling fast and raw. A few of the survivors outright dropped, hands over their heads, raw and unfiltered panic flashing across their faces.

  More enforcers also snapped into motion, rifles coming up as they broke into a sprint without waiting for orders. Medical staff scattered instinctively.

  The shot had come from the triage tent closest to the hospital entrance.

  Leo beelined for it, leaping over a few people to be faster.

  Before he could reach it, the tent, and the one next to it, collapsed inward. The aluminum poles keeping them up had been wrenched loose. The canvas sagging inward like a lung that had lost all air.

  “Hold it… don’t rush,” Leo rumbled, voice cutting through the noise without rising. “Medics, stay back. Enforcers, on me.”

  He reached the tent just as people were spilling out. Leo ducked under the collapsed edge, immediately taking in the damage.

  The doctor in charge of that triage line, a human, was struggling to his feet. One hand massaging his temple as blood streamed freely between his fingers, dark and slick, already soaking the front of his scrubs. His nose broken, bent off-center.

  “Son of a …” the doctor hissed, and then spat some blood onto the ground, eyes blazing with pain and fury in equal measure.

  A few feet away, an enforcer lay flat on her back, more stunned than injured.

  The round had struck her square in the chest plate. Luckily for her, the vest had done its job — the fabric was scorched, showing off the smoking crater on the material under it. The impact alone had knocked the breath clean out of her.

  She was conscious. Shocked, eyes wide, hands patting at her chest like she couldn’t quite believe that she was still alive.

  “I’m …” she rasped and moaned. “I’m okay,” her voice was more shaken than hurt. “Vest caught it.”

  “Yeah, it did,” another enforcer snapped, already kneeling beside her. “Easy. Don’t move yet.”

  Movement at the edge of Leo’s vision made his head snap up.

  Someone ducked under the fallen canvas, lifting it just long enough to slip through, then letting it drop back into place.

  “Runner!” someone shouted.

  Enforcers broke after him instantly, but Leo stayed where he was.

  “Aren’t you going to chase that bastard?” the doctor demanded

  The big lion just shook his head.

  “He is running and someone is already after him. I’ll stay here in case someone decides to try the same stunt.”

  Snapping his fingers, he got the attention of the DAIR officer that got shot and the one helping her to get up.

  “You two. Names.”

  “Enforcer Idum Vitkoski,” said the woman.

  “Enforcer Arthur Preste,” the guy, a wolf, said. “I’ve been on a multi-unit op with you before, Captain Leonardo.”

  Leo nodded, then he walked to the middle of the tent. He spread both arms wide, grabbing the canvas and lifting it, acting as a living support bean.

  It was intimidating, in that confined space. He was the tallest thing there by far, and with both arms raised, holding the structure aloft, it only amplified the effect.

  Idum bit her lip, her eyes tracking down the lion’s body before she caught herself.

  “Now, you two” Leo ordered, calmly. “Put the structure back together.”

  People grumbled but moved to obey, tracking down the poles that had been damaged. Arthur bent one back into place with a grunt. The doctor eased himself onto a portable medical cooler, dabbing ointment onto the bruise blooming across his face while a male nurse held up a small mirror so he could check his work.

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  With a final snap, the structure was fixed. The canvas pulled taut again, the tent regaining its shape and allowing Leo to lower his arms. He turned back to the injured doctor, bending a little so he wasn’t towering over him.

  “I’ll check on the rest of the people,” Leo said evenly. “Can you continue?”

  The doctor grabbed a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, squeezed some in his mouth,grimaced at the taste, and gargled before nodding.

  Turning to Idum, he cleared his throat.

  “You’re not hurt badly, but let's get you outside. People are probably panicking because of the shots, and you need a new vest.” he said, calm and unarguable. “You did your job. Now breathe. Who was it?”

  The enforcer swallowed. “Male. Predator. Mid-size. Stockyard evac. He panicked when they asked him to wait. Some wolf or husky.”

  “Husky,” the doctor said.

  Leo nodded once. “Enforcer Arthur, you stay on instead of Idum. Do some moral support for the hospital staff.”

  “Count me in, Captain,” Arthur said, sounding almost pleased to be given orders. There was a glint in his eyes.

  Stepping back outside, it was immediately clear that things were teetering toward a breaking point.

  Leo clicked his tongue, and marched foward, inflating his chest and trying to look bigger, and then placed himself squarely where everyone could see him — staff, enforcers, civilians alike.

  “Listen up,” he called, voice carrying across the improvised triage center. “The threat ran. We got enforcers in pursuit. Medical is still processing intakes. Stay calm.”

  He raised both hands. Empty. Fingers spread. Claws in. A gesture meant to disarm rather than intimidate.

  It wasn’t enough.

  A murmur rolled back instead of silence.

  It started small — complaints muttered under breath, sharp words exchanged between survivors — but it grew fast, fed by fear and adrenaline. Someone shouted that they’d been waiting too long. Another snapped back that there was a shooter loose. A survivor with a blood-soaked sleeve waved an arm wildly, demanding to know why they were being herded like cattle when they hadn’t done anything wrong.

  Leo felt his jaw tighten.

  He inhaled, chest expanding, the sound he was about to make already forming in his throat — the kind of command that cut straight through noise and didn’t invite discussion. He didn’t like to use his roar like this. But sometimes it was necessary.

  Before the roar could escape him, a figure stepped into his peripheral vision.

  Juno moved past his right side, catching his forearm and giving it a gentle squeeze.

  The hyena was fully geared. Helmet clipped at his belt, vest sealed, weapon secured but pointedly untouched. Where Leo was the mountain with mass, gravity and the promise of violence, Juno was something else. Less imposing. More approachable. Even at over seven feet tall, he looked almost normal beside the ten-foot tall captain.

  “I’ve got this,” Juno said quietly.

  Then he raised his hands, palms out, and spoke before the noise could crest.

  “Hey. Everyone,” his voice was loud, but not really a shout. “Please, give me a second.”

  The crowd hesitated.

  “I know you’re scared,” Juno continued, eyes sweeping across them. “You were pulled out of something bad, and now you’re being told to wait when the last thing you want is to wait. That’s frustrating. Anyone here would feel that.”

  That earned him some affirmative nods.

  A few heads turned. Then more. The ripple slowed but still there.

  Juno let out a soft hyena cackle. “Hey, big man. I think they can’t all see me. Mind giving me a hand? Maybe both?”

  Leo rolled his eyes, but he knew exactly what to do. They’d done this more than once.

  Juno stepped in front of him. Leo wrapped both hands around his husband’s waist, and lifted.

  Chuckles rippled through the crowd. The tension eased another notch.

  “The shooter ran,” Juno went on, nodding toward the far end of the bay. “DAIR units are already after him. The medical staff here didn’t abandon anyone, even when shots were fired. That should tell you something.”

  A woman near the front opened her mouth to argue, then decided otherwise.

  Juno caught it and pressed gently. “If you leave the triage line now, you don’t get faster treatment. You just make things messier. Come on. I want to go home and sleep, and I bet most of you do too. Let’s do this the orderly way.”

  People grumbled, but didn’t fight back.

  Lines re-formed. Medical staff resumed their work.

  Leo lowered Juno back to the ground, letting out the breath he’d been holding. “Thanks for that.”

  Juno glanced up at him, one corner of his mouth twitching. “Were you about to go full primal on them?” he teased, nudging him with an elbow.

  “Oh… you see…,” he struggled to find words. “Too much shit in one day. I’m almost out of fucks to give.”

  “Really? Not even one left for later?”

  “I think that I can find the strength for one,” Leo said, waggling his eyebrows. “Where did you get the gear, anyway?”

  “The bus that came bringing the survivors was meant for the enforcers heading to the public market. So they had some spares in storage. Don’t even ask, I checked and they don’t have your size.”

  “Story of my life. By the way, are you feeling better?”

  Juno shrugged.

  “As well as can be expected. Got some food in me, but it’ll take a few hours to refill my tank. That Varro guy was a monster, though. The way he instantly digested someone and healed… I wish we could do that.”

  “There is a price to pay to be like that.”

  “I know. Still… would be nice if we were that fast whenever we had a feral rabbit or fish,” Juno said, patting the slight bulge of his stomach.

  They lingered near the edge of the triage line, watching the flow settle.

  Slowly, the rhythm started picking back up.

  A group of enforcers came back into the ambulance bay at a jog, weapons lowered but expressions tight. One of them ripped off his helmet, ears flat, breath coming hard. Another shook his head in frustration, scanning the rows of vehicles like the answer might still be hiding there.

  “He vanished,” said one of them, an anteater, spitting to the side. “Slipped between the ambulance lane and the service access. By the time we cut around, he was gone. No heat signature, no visual.”

  Leo’s jaw set. “Direction?”

  “Southbound. Toward the old service alleys,” the enforcer replied. “We’ve alerted the guys from the precinct, but…”

  “Not many people free to track someone right now,” Juno finished the sentence.

  “Fuck this whole day,” the anteater said. “Whoever he was, the bastard knew where to run.”

  Leo gave a short nod. “Keep the perimeter tight. He panicked and bolted. With some luck we won’t have another of those tonight.”

  After a few more exchanges, the group dispersed, leaving the couple overseeing the bay.

  Leo was in the middle of arguing that Juno should head back inside when they noticed a nurse hovering at the edge of the space, clipboard hugged to his chest, looking distinctly out of place.

  He glanced their way once. Then again. Each look lingered a fraction longer than the last, as if he were double-checking a mental note or working up the courage.

  “Excuse me,” he said, stopping at a respectful distance. His voice carried the clipped edge of someone who’d been running on adrenaline for hours. “Are you… Juno Roitman and Leonardo Roitman?”

  Leo straightened a little. “That’s us.”

  The nurse visibly relaxed, shoulders dropping just enough to notice.

  “Good. I’m nurse Nigel, from the front lobby. Recovery wing.” He glanced at his clipboard, then back up at them. “We’ve got an Agent Mortimer Roitman inside. Black cat.”

  The lion felt his stomach tighten before the name fully landed.

  “Morty?” he asked.

  “Yes,” the nurse said quickly. “He was brought in about an hour ago. Severe vascular strain. Lost consciousness in the field.” He raised a hand before either of them could interrupt. “He’s stable. Awake now. Being treated.”

  Leo felt a growl starting to form. He closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose, slow and controlled.

  “Why weren’t we notified?”

  “We have been trying to,” the nurse replied. “He has both of you listed as emergency contacts. But we only had Mr. Leonardo’s number registered.”

  Juno shot Leo a look, hands miming strangulation..

  “I am not carrying my terminal with me,” the lion said, deflating.

  “I understand. People said you two were fighting last night with the alpha. Things can get damaged or destroyed.”

  “No.” Juno said, dryly. “He’s an idiot who left his terminal at home.”

  “Hey…”

  Juno cut him off. “Explain what’s going on.”

  “Sure. We were in the middle of pulling your information when things… escalated out here.” His eyes flicked briefly toward the tents, the enforcers, the aftermath still visible. “Once it became clear you were already on site, the attending physician asked that we speak to you in person rather than calling your names over the speakers.”

  Juno rolled his eyes.

  “Not that. What happened to him?”

  “Ah! He was in the Stockyard and came in with the first ambulances. Apparently, he had two doses of stimulant and crashed in the field.”

  “WHAT?” shouted Leo, turning some heads.

  Juno placed his hand on the lion’s shoulder to calm him down. Then turned to the nurse. “Where is he?”

  “Private recovery room,” the nurse said. “For now, he’s stable. Cassandra’s working with him.”

  Leo and Juno exchanged a look.

  “Lead the way,” Leo said.

  “Oh, no. The healer wants to do some check-ups. So your friend is not receiving visitors yet.”

  “We’re going there.” Leo said, a bit louder.

  Nigel blanched, but recovered fast.

  “Before you head in…” Nigel added quickly, “there’s a man waiting for him in the lobby.”

  That made them both stop. Leo gestured for him to continue.

  Nigel checked his clipboard. “Kassur Ferros. A jackal. Predator. Stockyard evac. Cleared by triage before the shot. People are getting the ok to leave, but he asked the front lobby to notify him when Agent Mortimer wakes up.”

  Leo glanced at Juno. “You know this man?”

  Juno shook his head. “Never heard of him.”