"OB is pretty routine. We haven't had a single hard one in the last couple of weeks. I've kinda hoped for a placenta previa, maybe even a placenta abrupta to see if we have the drill down, but-"
"Don't wish for those, Patsy. I've seen them happen in the ER. Total panic, and the OB better have his act together, or things can go to hell in a New York minute. Dead mother and a dead child."
"Ever see that happen, Mom?"
"No, but I've seen it come close to that twice in Williamsburg. Remember Dr. O'Connor?"
"Tall, skinny guy, right?"
"Yeah." Sandy nodded. "Thank God he was on duty for the second one. The resident came unglued, but Jimmy came in and took over. I was sure we'd lose that one."
"Well, if you know what you're doing- "
"If you know what you're doing, it's still tense. Routine is fine with me. I've done ER duty too long," Sandy Clark went on. "I love a quiet night when I can get caught up on my reading."
"Voice of experience," John Clark observed, serving the meat.
"Makes sense to me," Domingo Chavez agreed, stroking his wife's arm. "How's the little guy?"
"Kicking up a storm right now," Patsy replied, moving her husband's hand to her belly. It never failed, she saw The way his eyes changed when he felt it. Always a warm, passionate boy, Ding just about melted when he felt the movement in her womb.
"Baby," he said quietly.
"Yeah." She smiled.
"Well, no nasty surprises when the time comes, okay?" Chavez said next. "I want everything to go routinely. This is exciting enough. Don't want to faint or anything."
"Right!" Patsy laughed. "You? Faint? My commando?"
"You never know, honey," her father observed, taking his seat. "I've seen tough guys fold before."
"Not this one, Mr. C," Domingo noted with a raised eyebrow.
"More like a fireman," Sandy said from her seat. "The way you guys just hang around 'til something happens."
"That's true," Domingo agreed. "And if the fire never starts, it's okay with us."
"You really mean that?" Patsy asked.
"Yes, honey," her husband told her. "Going out isn't fun. We've been lucky so far. We haven't lost a hostage."
"But that'll change," Rainbow Six told his subordinate.
"Not if I have anything to say about it, John."
"Ding," Patsy said, looking up from her food. "Have you I mean… I mean, have you actually-"
The look answered the question, though the words were "Let's not talk about that."
"We don't carve notches in our guns, Pats," John told his daughter. "Bad form, you see."
"Noonan came over today," Chavez went on. "Says he's got a new toy to look at."
"What's it cost?" John asked first of all.
"Not much, he says, not much at all. Delta just started looking at it."
"What's it do?"
"It finds people."
"Huh? Is this classified?"
"Commercial product, and, no, it's not classified at all. But it finds people."
"How?"
"Tracks the human heart up to five hundred meters away."
"What?" Patsy asked. "How's it do that?"
"Not sure, but Noonan says the guys at Fort Bragg are going nuts-I mean, real enthusiastic about it. It's called 'Lifeguard' or something like that. Anyway, he asked the headquarters snake people to send us a demo team."
"We'll see," John said, buttering his roll. "Great bread, Sandy."
"It's that little bakery on Millstone Road. Isn't the bread wonderful over here?"
"And everybody knocks Brit food," John agreed. "The Idiots. Just what I was raised with."
"All this red meat," Patsy worried aloud. "My cholesterol is under one-seventy, honey," Ding reminded her. "Lower than yours. I guess it's all that good exercise. "
"Wait until you get older," John groused. He was nudging two hundred for the first time in his life, exercise and all.
"No hurry here." Ding chuckled. "Sandy, you are still one of the best cooks around."
"Thanks, Ding."
"Just so our brains don't rot from eating this English cow." A Spanish grin. "Well, this is safer than zip-lining out of the Night Hawk. George and Sam are still hurtin'. Maybe we ought to try different gloves."
"Same ones the SAS uses. I checked."
"Yeah, I know. I talked it over with Eddie, day 'fore yesterday. He says we have to expect training accidents, and Homer says that Delta loses a guy a year, dead, in training accidents."
"What?" Alarm from Patsy.
"And Noonan says the FBI lost a guy once, zipping down from a Huey. Hand just slipped. Oops." Team-2 Lead shrugged.
"Only security against that is more training," John agreed.
"Well, my guys are right at the proper edge. Now I have to figure a way to keep them right there without breaking it."
"That's the hard part, Domingo."
"I s'pose." Chavez finished his plate.
"What do you mean, the edge?" Patsy asked.
"Honey, I mean Team-2 is lean and mean. We always were, but I don't see us getting any better than we are now. Same with Peter's bunch. Except for the two injuries, there isn't room for any improvement I can see - 'specially with Malloy on the team now. Damn, he knows how to drive a chopper."
