Badass in Disguise Chapter 72

The hospital room reeked of antiseptic and cheap floor cleaner. Zach lay in the bed, both legs encased in thick white casts, looking more pissed off than in pain when I walked in with Ryan and Xavier.

"Well, look who decided to grace us with his presence," I said, approaching his bed. "How's it feel to be the dumbass who got his legs broken because he couldn't follow simple instructions?"

Zach's face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. "Fuck off. It wasn't my fault."

"Ryan specifically told you to keep a low profile in someone else's territory," I reminded him. "Instead, you went joy-riding with Connor Haxton into a mining area crawling with hostile forces."

Ryan crossed his arms. "Told you she'd be pissed."

I leaned closer to Zach, studying his casts. "How bad is the pain?"

"It's nothing," Zach grunted, his jaw tight enough to crack walnuts. The sheen of sweat on his forehead told a different story.

"Bullshit." I turned to Ryan and Xavier. "Take his pants off."

Zach's eyes widened. "What the fuck? No!"

"Do it," I ordered, ignoring his protests.

Ryan and Xavier exchanged amused glances before moving to either side of the bed. Despite Zach's increasingly colorful profanity and attempts to fight them off, they efficiently stripped him down to his boxers.

"This is fucking assault!" Zach bellowed, his face crimson with rage and humiliation. "I'll kill both of you!"

I pulled out an elegant leather medical case from my bag and placed it on the bedside table. Opening it revealed several thin needles and small vials of clear liquid.

"What are you doing?" Zach asked, his anger giving way to apprehension.

I filled a syringe with precise amounts from two different vials. "Trigger point injections. The fractures aren't just causing bone pain—they're creating muscle spasms that are making everything worse."

Just as I prepared to administer the first injection, the door opened. Ethan Haxton stepped into the room, his eyes immediately drawn to the medical scene unfolding before him.

I ignored his presence, focusing on locating the precise spots in Zach's thigh muscle. With practiced precision, I inserted the needle and delivered the medication.

"Our boss knows medical stuff," Ryan said quietly to Xavier, though loud enough for everyone to hear. "Reminds me of our former commander—" He stopped abruptly when he noticed Ethan standing by the door, his expression carefully blank.

I administered five more injections in different muscle groups around Zach's legs, working with clinical efficiency. When I finished and stepped back, Zach's expression had transformed from pain to astonishment.

"Holy shit," he breathed, tentatively shifting his position. "The pain is... it's like eighty percent gone. What the hell was in that?"

"Custom blend of muscle relaxants and neural blockers," I explained, packing up my medical kit. "I developed it myself. It targets both muscle and nerve pain simultaneously without the mental fog of opioids."

Zach stared at me with newfound respect, then his eyes narrowed slightly. "You know, you look different. Thinner. Actually kind of hot now."

"Thanks for the objectification," I said dryly. I turned to Ethan, who'd been watching the entire procedure with undisguised interest. "Have you visited your assistant yet?"

"Connor is fine," Ethan replied smoothly. "A few cuts and bruises."

"I could do the same pain management for him," I offered, gesturing to my medical kit.

"That won't be necessary. He's not in pain." The finality in Ethan's tone suggested the subject was closed.

"When can I get the hell out of here?" Zach demanded, attempting to sit up straighter.

"Now, if you want," I told him. "Those injections will last about twelve hours. Long enough to get you back to base and settled in."

"I want to see Connor," I said to Ethan as we left Zach's room.

"That's not necessary," Ethan replied, his tone brooking no argument. "As I said, his injuries were minor."

I studied his face for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. Let's go."

---

Back at the Transcendent Military Alliance base, Zach's eyes widened as he wheeled himself into the temporary quarters we'd been assigned. Crates of advanced weaponry lined the walls—assault rifles, precision sniper systems, and tactical gear worth millions.

"Holy shit," he breathed, rolling toward the nearest crate. "Is this all for us?"

Xavier grinned, tossing Zach a Desert Eagle handgun. "Compensation for your broken legs, courtesy of the TMA."

"There's at least two million in hardware here," Zach said, examining the weapon with appreciation.

"Ethan Haxton pays his debts," Xavier confirmed, running his hand over a Barrett sniper rifle.

My phone chimed with an email notification. I scanned the message, then looked up at the others. "Princeton University. First-year orientation starts in two weeks."

"When are you heading back to the States?" I asked Ethan later that day, finding him reviewing security footage in the command center.

"Soon," he replied without looking up. "I've been in Venezuela longer than usual this year."

"I'll be leaving with you, then," I said. "I have to get back for school."

---

"You're a fucking student?" Ryan looked at me like I'd grown a second head. "Like, an actual college student?"

We were gathered in the Titan Defense base camp. I'd called everyone together to explain my imminent departure.

"Princeton," I confirmed. "SAT score of 1400."

"Only 1400?" Zach seemed genuinely shocked. "Why didn't you get a perfect score?"

"I skipped the writing section," I said with a shrug. "Didn't need it."

"I don't understand," Zach said, shaking his head. "Why the hell would someone like you waste time with college?"

"To experience the sunshine life," I replied, using the mercenary slang for civilian existence. "I have unfinished business back home."

The next day, I met with Ryan and Xavier in the Titan Defense compound. "I'm leaving you two in charge while I'm gone. Keep expanding our operations, but stay within the parameters I've established."

"Want to come get educated, Zach?" I asked, half-joking.

"Fuck that," he snorted from his wheelchair. "I barely finished high school."

"If any of you are in New York, look me up," I told them. "Just be discreet."

As I walked away, I heard Ryan murmur to Xavier, "Can you imagine her in a classroom? Those poor college kids have no idea who's sitting next to them."

Xavier's response was even quieter. "I'm more concerned about who might go after her there. College campuses aren't exactly secure."

I smiled to myself. They weren't wrong.

By the time I left Venezuela, I still hadn't seen Connor Haxton. Given what I'd observed of his "minor injuries" through the security system I'd hacked, Ethan's description had been a significant understatement. But that was a conversation for another time.