“Let me go or the bitch gets it!” He cocked back the hammer. It was quiet for a moment.
“Fuck it, I know you ain’t going to let me go! I’m damned anyway!” he yelled and shot Brit from five feet away. All three of us hit him just as he fired, spinning him around.
“BRIT!” I yelled. “DOC! GET UP HERE!” And before anyone could stop me, I was up across the road and running to her. As I ran up I put a three round burst into each of the figures lying on the ground. I dropped onto the ground next to Brit and ripped open her armor, searching for a wound.
Above her knee was a bloody hole where she had been hit in our initial firefight. It had clotted over but blood was seeping from under her shirt, just under the edge of her armor. She was breathing really fast through her nose, Duct tape was slapped across her mouth. I ripped it off so she could breathe better, but her face was white. She was going into shock.
Doc shoved me aside hard and got to work, ripping open his aide bag and cutting away her shirt.
“Anything else?” he asked me as he rolled her onto her side to look for an exit wound. Nothing. He stuck a tampon in the entry wound and pressed my hand against it to hold it there. He punched an IV into her arm and started forcing fluids into her.
“I’m going to work on her, but she has some internal bleeding. We gotta get her back to the CASH at Fort Orange. Hold this up in the air.” He handed me the IV bag. He meant the Combat Support Hospital at Task Force Empires’ main base down by Albany.
“I got it, Doc. Just keep her stable while I get them on the horn.”
“Valkyrie, Valkyrie, this is Lost Boys, Nine Line Follows, over.”
I called two more times before the RTO called back asking for the MEDEVAC info. Behind me I heard Brit moaning and Doc trying to reassure her. “It fucking hurts, Doc. Gimme some morphine. Oh my God, this fucking hurts so damn bad.”
Jacob handed me a piece of paper with the 9 line info written out.
“Line One: Grid X-ray November 7834-9873”
“Line Two: Frequency 2200, Lost Boys 6”
“Line Three: One Bravo” Urgent Surgical, this told the surgery team to be standing by.
“Line Four: Alpha, none” meant no special medical equipment
“Line Five: Alpha, one” One litter patient
“Line Six: Papa” - Possible enemy troops in area, approach with caution
“Line Seven: Orange Smoke” marked the pickup area
“Line Eight: US Military”
“Line Nine: Open flat ground.”
The RTO repeated it back to me, confirming what I sent. Then he asked me who it was. I knew the guy on the radio, a kid who was a pretty good med surg nurse. We knew he had a real name but we’d called him Quesadilla for so long we didn’t remember it anymore.
“It’s Brit, and she’s pretty bad, Quesadilla.”
“Roger that, Nick. I’ll rush it. Out.”
I sat holding Brit’s hand while waiting for the call back. It came almost two minutes later, but it seemed to be eternity. She was mumbling something as Doc pushed the IV fluids into her.
“Lost Boys, this is Empire 6. Mission denied, over.”
“WHAT THE FUCK! WHAT DO YOU MEAN MISSION DENIED, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE?”
“You heard me, Lost Boys. We don’t have the air assets to pick up your soldier. Recommend you find alternative Evac. Over.”
“WE ARE IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE AND SHE IS DYING, YOU PRICK!” I was screaming into the microphone now.
“I’m not risking a valuable air asset to pick up your little whore, Agostine. Empire 6, out.”
I slammed the mike into the ground and screamed my frustration at the sky.
Chapter 14
I sat and held Brit’s head in my lap. She was moaning softly. Doc had shot her with some morphine, but being gut shot, the pain was intense. He couldn’t give her anymore or else her blood pressure would drop.
“Nick, what are going to do? We can’t stay here. There’s going to be Zs and those guys’ friends are going to come looking. ” Ahmed and Jacob stood guard, watching the tree line and down the road. Doc stood over me.
I stared dully up at him. Brit was dying. I could feel it. I had seen it far too many times. The only thing I was thinking now was whether to make it quick for her, and if we would have time to bury her. I wasn’t going to leave her for the animals, human or otherwise.
“Come on, Nick, we gotta move. Zs will be showing up here lickety-split.”
I took my pistol and put it over her heart. She was unconscious. I sat for a second, completely undecided and denying what was happening. Pictures of our times together over the last year flashed through my mind. Finding her at the school, travelling back to the Finger Lakes, our scouts together down the valley. Nights on watch, shooting the shit. Keeping each other warm on cold nights. We had been together for a long time, and saved each other’s lives over and over again.
“Doc, I can’t do it. Stick her.” Doc nodded and reached into his bag for a needle.
Then the radio crackled into life.
“Lost Boys, Lost Boys, Valkyrie 6, over.”
I grabbed the hand mike from Jacob.
“Valkyrie 6, this is Lost Boys, over!” Valkyrie 6 was Major McHale, the Air Ambulance Company Commander.
“Lost Boys, we are ten mikes from your position. Pop smoke when you have us in sight.”
“DOC! MEDEVAC INBOUND, five mikes!”
“Nick, we have other problems. Coming down the road.” I looked up to see Ahmed firing at a group coming down Route 4 on the other side of the canal. They scattered and started returning fire.
“Valkyrie, be advised, we are under fire. Hostiles are on the other side of the canal, across the bridge, about three hundred meters west of my position.”
Another voice came over the radio. “Lost Boys, this is Foe Hammer 9. Keep your heads down, boys.” Then I heard that wonderful ripping sound of a 30mm cannon, and the road across the bridge erupted in a cloud of dust and explosive rounds going off. The firing stopped.
“Foe hammer, good effects. LZ cleared. Thanks, over!”
“Lost Boys, this is Foe Hammer, anytime. Foe Hammer out.”
I heard the rotor blades of the MEDEVAC thumping their way up the valley, and threw an smoke grenade.
“Valkerie, Orange smoke, over.”
“Roger, I copy Orange smoke.”
A battered UH-60 came thundering up the canal, flared, and set down to the right of the smoke. I grabbed the IV bag. We helped the Flight Medics set her on the litter, and I squeezed her hand one more time, and she gave me a weak grin. As they strapped her in, I ran over to the pilot’s side. Major McHale slid open the window. I reached in my hand and grabbed his, showing him how thankful we were for his disobeying orders. He yelled to me over the rotor wash.
“Your team saved my life, Nick, when we went down over in Pittsfield. I repay my debts.”
“What about Colonel MacDonald?”
“Screw that shithead. He needs me more than I need him.” He looked down, listening over his headset, gave me a thumbs-up and shut the window. I ducked down and ran away to the side as he powered up. The UH-60 thundered up into the sky and I watched them tip over and head back down the canal, the rotor wash throwing up spray, the Apache providing top cover leading the way. I followed them with my eyes until they disappeared around a bend.