Her Hero After Dark

“As in stupid to have done this to himself?”

“No. As in unnaturally heavy. The guy weighs a ton.”

“Look at his arms and shoulders. His whole body’s that muscular. Of course he’s heavy.”

Brady shook his head. “I’ve carried my fair share of injured Spec Ops guys across my back before. I know how much muscular, fit men weigh. And I’m telling you something’s weird about this guy. He’s really, really heavy.”

She recalled Jeff landing on her during the gunfight. And the way the golf cart had groaned under his weight. Maybe there was something to what Brady was saying. “Well, I can tell you he’s the strongest guy I’ve ever seen. He ripped the combination lock right off the side of the garage down by the airfield.”

Brady glanced down at her patient. “Who is this guy?”

She threw up her hands. “That’s what I’ve been asking. Now you know why I’ve been so hot and bothered for you guys to dig up everything on his past few years. How did he go from Ivy League, spoiled rich kid to this?”

She stared down at the man in the bed. Sympathy for his plight shuddered through her. No matter what transgressions lurked in his past, no human being deserved to suffer like this.

She and Brady spent the rest of the morning on their respective phones and computers, pushing their staffs mercilessly for any and every thing they could find on one Jefferson Winston.

A little new information was forthcoming. Jeff had apparently experienced some sort of political awakening after graduate school. He worked on the campaign staffs of several politicians who were generally social liberals and foreign policy conservatives.