Russian Roulette: Family secrets [2021 version]

Ch. 61: Don't ask

It was late morning already.

A constant buzzing sounded everywhere.

All teams had made it back to The Mansion.

Except for one. Vasili, Cracker, and Roarke's team. They had ended communications after Vasili got confirmed that Gareth had safely arrived at The Mansion to receive medical attention.

No word from them since.

Phoenix had officially closed the operation when he reached The Mansion. Thanking everybody for their part in the successful retrieval of both Mackenzie and Gareth. He had dismissed everybody, ordered them to take a break, and allowed them to shower and sleep. Offered them time to process everything.

Though he had done that, it came as no surprise to him that people ignored his orders and kept working to get all the details over with.

A successful operation was fine and dandy. But there was a lot to be done in the wake of an operation of that magnitude.

People had divided into groups across their usual areas of expertise.

Weapons, explosives, and ammo were gathered and returned to the caches and checked in for storage. Comms and equipment returned too.

Some went to Natalya in the kitchen and helped with food and beverages, which they brought to the common room in a steady flow and placed on a large buffet table for people to help themselves when needed. Funny enough, many of those helping in the kitchen were Vittorio's men. They had not said it openly, but they were probably afraid they would have to eat borscht for days.

Italian men needed Italian food.

Natalya was ecstatic with the help and new recipes.

Others helped set up a new, more comfortable command central in the corner of the common room for Richard, where he, though drop-dead tired, sat at the computers and kept in contact with all the hackers.

They, too, had refused to sign off and sleep.

They went through all the devices collected from the compound. Richard handled the physical documents, scanning them and putting them into files to be looked at.

A large group of men helped bring in the dead from the cadaver trucks and carry them to the morgue in the basement. They helped identify and prep them. Got them out of their clothes and washed them while logging the cause of death for the doctors who signed off on the death certificates.

They put the deceased into cold storage to await funeral arrangements made by their families or friends.

Never had the morgue overflowed like that. Of people helping and of passed warriors of Gareth's group, including the added Italian casualties. They all showed a sort of solemn approach. A massive respect for their fallen brothers. Giving them the treatment worthy of their sacrifice.

There would be a ceremony in the future for all to pay their respects and tell stories of the good times they had shared.

All in due time.

They still needed to know if their leader would be among those to be mourned.

All the injured men patiently sat outside the hospital ward, waiting for treatment. None complained about the wait. Triage nurses assessed their injuries and labeled them for treatment according to severity. Some needed immediate attention whereas others could wait. Most, even the ones in dire need, willingly waited if it meant having enough staff to treat Gareth and Mackenzie.

Luckily, Gareth employed enough medical staff to handle the unending stream of injured men flooding the hospital ward. Usually, they worked in pre-planned shifts and had many days off, and while working, they were rarely needed for more than normal check-ups, a broken bone here and there, and sore throats. And the occasional work-related injury.