Chapter 83 Donovan Is Wounded

Chapter 83 Donovan Is Wounded
Donovan turned his head to survey his surroundings.
The spot where they had rolled to take cover was strategically advantageous. About three meters away, there was a small mound of earth, less than half a person’s height, which perfectly blocked the sniper’s line of fire.
“Iris, hold on tight. I’ll count to three, and then we’ll roll to the right together and take cover behind that mound.”
Iris nodded and instinctively wrapped her arms around Donovan’s neck.
Seeing this, Donovan smiled at her, seemingly pleased.
Iris wasn’t sure if he had done it on purpose, so she loosened her grip slightly.
“Three.”
But Donovan didn’t give her a moment to hesitate. He braced his hips and legs, and in an instant, he rolled them both over.
Another gunshot rang out, and the bullet struck the spot where they had just been lying, sending a few petals and blades of grass flying.
Iris took a deep, frightened breath. She thought to herself that it was a good thing Donovan hadn’t actually counted to three—otherwise, he might not have survived.
The next second, Iris' body froze.
She felt Donovan’s hand, which had been wrapped around her waist, move upward and pause at her chest. It gently traced her curves.
Iris immediately pulled her arms back, crossing them defensively.
“Don’t move!”
Iris wouldn’t dare move.
Donovan gently pushed her arms aside and carefully checked that the splint on her ribs hadn’t shifted and that there was no sign of pain on her face. Only then did he step back, pulling her close as they pressed themselves tightly against the hillside.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Iris' face flush deeply. Her large eyes brimmed with hurt and anger. Donovan’s lips curved slightly, and he let out a soft chuckle.
Iris would be his sooner or later. Just a single touch was enough to upset her this much.
But in this life-or-death situation, there was no time to waste.
He glanced at her briefly before tearing open the fabric around the bullet hole in his camouflage pants.
Her mangled calf was exposed; the wound looked terrifying.
Iris covered her mouth and let out a scream.
“Donovan, you’re hurt!”
"I'm not going to die."
Without looking up, Donovan examined the entry angle carefully, determining that the sniper had fired from a higher vantage point at a downward angle.
The terrain in this area was flat, so the only suitable high ground for a sniper was the small hill next to the transport helicopter.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Iris' wide, trembling eyes, as if she were about to cry again. Donovan reached out and ruffled her hair.
“Don’t be afraid.”
Iris nodded, fighting back her tears.
"I'm not afraid. What should we do now?"
She didn't cry!
Donovan was pleased. He took out a tourniquet, wrapped it above the wound, secured it with the buckle, and tightened it.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, he spoke calmly. “Typically, a sniper rifle bullet travels at a speed of 600 to 1,200 meters per second. Based on the time difference between the gunshot and the bullet’s arrival, the sniper is at least 800 meters away.”
Iris was so tense that she couldn't process it. Without thinking, she blurted out, "I don't understand."
Donovan chuckled softly and pinched her reddened nose playfully.
"That's elementary math, little dummy."
Iris couldn’t understand why this man remained so calm every time they faced danger, as if being targeted by a sniper were the most ordinary thing in the world.
But he was clearly injured and had lost a lot of blood.
Iris tried to steady herself and asked, "Are you saying you know where the sniper is?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Then can you take him out? Do you need me to help in any way?”
As soon as she finished speaking, she saw Donovan’s lips curve into a faint smile. Iris hung her head in frustration.
She knew she shouldn't have asked the second question—as if she could possibly be of any help!
But, for once, Donovan didn’t tease her. He simply said, "I can take him out. But if I do, he might not survive.”
“Huh?” Iris froze for a moment.
As he spoke, Donovan adjusted his headset and said in a deep voice, "Samuel, come in."
Samuel's voice came through from the other end, slightly breathless from running. “Copy that, stand by.”
“Sniper. Two o'clock from the farm gate, on the hill next to the transport, near the summit, 22 degrees east of due east. Estimated distance: 1,020 meters. I want him alive.”
“Understood.”
Donovan took off his headset, turned toward Iris, raised an eyebrow, and gave her a hint of a smirk.
"Iris, I really do need your help."
Hearing this, Iris immediately lifted her eyes and stared intently at Donovan, waiting for him to continue.
"We're going to wait here for ten minutes. Ten minutes is way too long—can I kiss you for a little while longer?”
The fear in Iris' heart vanished without a trace, and she even found the courage to glare at Donovan.
"No!"
“It’s not up to you.”
Donovan leaned in, cupping the back of Iris' head with one hand. He kissed her as he pleased, exploring her lips with varying depths.
But at this critical moment, when life hung in the balance, how could Iris possibly be in the mood to kiss him?
They might both get shot in the head the next second, their brains splattered everywhere.
Just the thought made her heart race.
She began to struggle, resisting fiercely. Her kicking legs accidentally brushed against the gunshot wound on Donovan’s thigh.
Donovan groaned, pulled away, leaned against her shoulder, and breathed heavily.
"Turning your back on people is almost becoming a habit of yours."
Iris stopped struggling. "I...I'm sorry."
Donovan had no intention of teasing her further. He leaned against the hillside, resting his head on his arm. One leg was bent as he gazed up at the twinkling stars in the night sky.
Iris followed his gaze and looked up as well.
The surroundings fell silent. The sniper hiding in the shadows did not fire a third shot.
The vast Milky Way spread out like a dream, dazzling and romantic.
Donovan shifted his gaze back to Iris.
Her eyes reflected the scattered points of light as if a soft glow were dancing within them.
Iris would probably never understand that simply being alive was a luxury.
For every minute and every second she was still breathing, he wanted to be close to her.
Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the farmer’s house.
Harrison grabbed the sniper by the back of his collar with one hand and dragged him inside.
Donovan slumped lazily on the sofa in the middle of the living room while Jax stood ramrod straight behind him.
The tourniquet on his leg had already been removed. Iris sat on the edge of the sofa, applying a bandage to stop the bleeding.
Perhaps because she’d never treated such a severe injury before, her movements were clumsy and the gauze wasn't wrapped neatly.
Seeing this, Mercedes stepped out of the crowd and walked straight up to Iris.
"Let me handle this."
He removed his helmet and visor, and Iris recognized him as the medic from the Silver Fox Team.
She nodded and stood up.
"Alright."
Harrison dragged the person right up to Donovan. "Boss, we've got her. It’s a woman.”
A woman?
Now that was interesting.
Donovan nodded slightly, and Harrison immediately grabbed the woman by the hair and forced her to look up.
Their eyes met.
A flicker of emotion crossed Donovan’s deep, piercing eyes, and his murderous intent faded.
Donovan recognized her at a glance.
When he spoke, a barely perceptible hesitation tinged his hoarse voice.
“Amy?”