He gently released Katie’s hand and smiled at her. “Okay. We need to get you out of here. I need to go and talk to the men. I’ll send someone back to help you.”
“No!” Katie spoke with vehement embarrassment. “I’ll be fine. I don’t need any help. You’ve all got things to do.”
“Hey, do me a favor,” Joe returned. “Don’t go all stubborn on me. You’ve had a crack on the head, and you as a medic should know what happens with head injuries. Just stay here and do as you’re told. Understand me?”
Katie glared at him then finally nodded. “You win,” she agreed. “But only because I’m too damn tired to argue with you.”
“That’s my girl,” Joe responded gently. He rose to his feet and turned away, thumbing a button on his PRR.
“Eagle E1 to Hawk E5 and Harrier E11, report to me.”
One marine broke away from the perimeter boundary and began to jog toward Joe while another marine appeared from behind the burning Chinook. They came to a halt on reaching him.
“We need to haul ass,” he said. “You two are to assist Corporal Walker. Do not leave her side. If she gets sick, just call Doc. We’ll form up around you and move out that way.”
“Yes, Staff Sergeant,” the two men replied.
“Okay, let’s get her on her feet,” Joe announced.
He and one of the men moved to each side of Katie, and with a hand under each arm, lifted her gently to her feet.
Katie groaned, as, on standing, dizziness threatened to send her crashing back to the ground again. Her legs went weak and Joe and the second man had to throw their arms around her and support her. Leaning more against Joe, Katie closed her eyes, willing the pain in her head and the dizziness to abate.
They stood in frozen sculpture for long minutes until Katie straightened and opened her eyes. “Okay,” she murmured, “let’s go.”
“You sure?” Joe asked.
“Yes,” Katie answered, “otherwise we’ll be here forever.”
Slowly, concentrating on keeping her head as still as possible, so it did not increase the pain, Katie and her two escorts moved toward the marines guarding the perimeter of the area. Joe was issuing orders into his radio, and by the time the three of them had reached the other marines, all members of the patrol had formed themselves into a protective cordon with Katie and her two escorts and Joe at its center.
Joe turned to Katie. “I’ll leave you with these two guys. I have to keep my eye on things,” he said.
“Okay,” she said, glancing at his face.
Joe winked at her then moved off, talking into his radio as he went.
The second marine took the place of Joe and put his arm around Katie’s back, linking his arm with the second marine on her other side.
“All right, ma’am?” he asked.
“Thank you, I’m fine,” Katie answered.
In a few minutes, it appeared that the patrol was ready to move out. Katie glanced back over her shoulder at the burning helicopter, muttered a silent apology for her colleagues who were still inside, then turned to her front once more. Through the flickering darkness, she could see Joe at the front of the patrol, and she watched as he raised his hand and gestured forward. She also noticed that all the marines surrounding her had their weapons raised and facing outward.
“Are we in danger?” she asked.
“You can call me Bonio, ma’am, and my buddy on your other side is Slither,” the marine on her left said. “There’s a sitrep of some bad guys heading in our direction but the old man should get us out of here so there’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“Where’s my bergen and weapon?” Katie asked.
Bonio attempted to reassure her again but Katie was adamant.
“I’d like my weapon, please. Can somebody get it for me?” She raised her chin in a stubborn tilt.
Bonio thumbed the button on his PRR and spoke quietly into it. Minutes later Sergeant Eastman approached them with Katie’s medical bergen and weapon in his hands.
He nodded at Katie. “All right, Corporal Walker?” And handed over her weapon and bergen.
“Fine, thank you, Sergeant,” she replied and offered him a small smile, shrugging painfully into her bergen and slinging the strap of her rifle over a shoulder. “Thank you for hanging on to my equipment.”
Sergeant Eastman inclined his head and went back to his position in the patrol.
The patrol and Katie with her two escorts began to move forward, making their way slowly and carefully away from the crash site and into the pitch-blackness of the desert. The pace was slow and careful in keeping with Katie’s own movements, marines on either side of her guiding her around obstacles that appeared out of the dark suddenly and without warning. Katie could see that their eyes moved constantly, even though they were in the center of the patrol, and their arms were strong about Katie’s back as they supported her.
The desert maintained its usual silence with the exception of the sound of distant gunfire. The firefight did not appear to be getting any closer, nevertheless there was an air of urgency amongst the squad at getting Katie to the coordinates where the medevac would be meeting them.
Katie felt embarrassment at this squad having to protect her. She wanted Joe with her but knew that he was unreachable at the moment. He had a responsibility to his men to get them to safety. She stumbled suddenly and almost cried out with the pain in her head. Bonio prevented her from falling.
“Oopsy-daisy, ma’am,” he said.
Katie suddenly felt cold, although sweat was dampening her face and running down her back. She began to tremble, then, without any warning, she leaned forward and vomited.
“Ma’am?” Bonio queried, concerned, his arm preventing her from tumbling forward. “Are you okay?”
Katie’s response was to retch dryly, her stomach completely empty. Her head was pounding, her vision was becoming blurry, and she couldn’t prevent a small moan from escaping her dry lips.
“We need the medic over here,” Slither suddenly called in a voice just loud enough that the rest of the squad heard and came to a stop. The marines automatically went down on one knee and raised their weapons.
Katie staggered slightly and Slither said, “Okay, ma’am, I think you need to sit down for a bit. The medic will be here in a few to check you over.”
They led Katie to a low rock. Someone brought out a pad from his bergen and laid it on the ground then the two marines who had been assisting her helped her to sit down. Katie closed her eyes and leaned back against the rock. A few minutes later, the medic who had treated her at the crash site came to her side. He spoke briefly to Bonio and Slither then crouched down beside her. The remaining members of the squad immediately established a perimeter around them, facing out into the dark desert.
“Feeling rough, ma’am?” the medic asked. He reached out and took her wrist, feeling for her pulse.
Katie opened her eyes, feeling her body shivering and a cold clamminess on her forehead. “My head hurts,” she explained quietly.
“Yeah, I bet it does,” the medic replied. “We need to get you warm—”
At that moment, Joe appeared out of the dark and crouched down at her other side.
“What’s wrong, Corporal?” he asked the medic, gazing at Katie’s ashen face and closed eyes with consternation.
The medic rose to his feet and gestured to Joe to join him a few meters away from Katie. “She’s started to suffer from shock, Staff Sergeant,” he explained. “Her pulse is a bit rapid and her body temperature is dropping, probably due to a lowering blood pressure. She’s in a lot of pain. She’s not in any danger, but the longer she’s on her feet, the worse the symptoms will get. We need to keep her warm and get her onto a medevac ASAP.”
Joe listened carefully, his face expressionless, emotions under control as happened when he was under pressure or in a difficult situation.
“Very well, Corporal,” he eventually replied. “Let’s get her an extra jacket first.”
Within minutes, a marine jogged up to them with a spare combat jacket and handed it to Joe then jogged back to his position in the perimeter.
Joe turned to the medic and two marines. “Give us a few minutes, guys,” he ordered. The three men obeyed the order without a word and all moved away a few meters and turned their backs.
Clutching the jacket, Joe crouched down beside Katie, who hadn’t moved. “Katie,” he called gently and rested a hand on her leg. “Hey, sweetheart.”
Katie murmured and stirred. She struggled to open her eyes, resentful that someone had disturbed her. She saw Joe beside her and offered him a small painful smile. “Hi,” she whispered weakly. “I’m so sorry.”
Joe managed a grin at her, although he had never felt less like smiling in his life. “Sorry doesn’t exist in my vocabulary. Honey, I need to put this jacket on you. The medic has said you need to keep warm. Can you help me get it on you?”
Katie nodded, wincing, and leaned forward slightly. Joe managed to get one of her arms inside the sleeve of the spare combat jacket, slung it around her back, and got her other arm into the second sleeve, straining to close it across her body armor. Eventually he was able to fasten the Velcro that held the jacket together. Exhausted, Katie slumped back against the rock and closed her eyes again.
“Katie I need to talk to you—explain what we’re going to try to do. Come on, Katie. Stay with me.” Joe gently shook her hand and Katie groaned and opened her eyes again.
“Let me sleep,” she said irritably.
“Uh-huh, nope,” Joe replied. “You listen to me, lady. We have to get you on your feet and keep going. We have about two clicks to go then the medevac will be there to take you back to base. You can rest up in the CTH. Do you understand me?”
“I hear you. I’m not deaf,” Katie snapped grumpily. “If I have to, I have to.”
“That’s my girl,” Joe grinned, knowing that it was the head injury that was making her irritable. He rose to his feet and called the medic and two marines over. “Let’s move out,” he ordered.
The two marines managed to get Katie to her feet, the patrol formed up as before, and they moved off again.
At the site of her extraction, Katie promptly slumped to the ground, body trembling from the quickly spiraling shock taking control of her limbs, and closed her eyes. Joe saw how extremely difficult the last two clicks of the march had been for her and that it was only by sheer force of will she had managed to remain on her feet and keep going.
Joe immediately got on the radio and sent a transmission advising that they had reached the agreed coordinates and the causality was ready for the extraction. Relief filled him as he was advised that the CTF was fifteen minutes out from their location and Katie would be in safe hands in a short time.
While the marines kept watch from their security perimeter, Joe went to Katie’s side. “The medevac will be here in fifteen,” he explained.
Katie opened her eyes and managed a small smile for him. “Sorry to disrupt your patrol,” she said, trying to infuse some strength into her voice.
Joe said soothingly, “Hey, it’s okay. The crash was hardly your fault. Just remember, we’ll be together tomorrow night. Just do as you’re told and get well, otherwise you’ll be kept in the CTH.”
“That’ll happen,” Katie retorted with a little of her old spirit.
Glancing casually over his shoulder and noting that his squad was minding their own business, turned away from him, he took one of Katie’s hands and stroked it. “I love you, sweetheart,” he said softly. “You’ll be fine.”
In her weakened state, Katie felt tears fill her eyes, “I love you too, Joe,” she replied, her voice trembling.
At that moment, Joe became aware of the sound of a helicopter approaching at low level from the south, and when he straightened up and glanced up at the night sky, he saw the flashing red lights of the CTF helicopter descending toward them. A member of the squad struck a red flare and threw it some distance from where the marines were positioned. Its smoke rose in a red cloud, marking the landing zone for the helicopter.
“Come on, Corporal, on your feet,” Joe ordered, and bending down, he put one of Katie’s arms across his shoulders and an arm around her waist and lifted her.
The Chinook touched down gently, and a member of the CTT team jumped out from the side door, ducking to avoid the huge, slowly spinning rotor blades, and jogged toward them. He took Katie’s other arm and slung it around his shoulder and together the two men helped her toward the helicopter. The CTT member hoisted himself aboard then bent down, putting his hands under Katie’s armpits and gently lifting her into the helicopter. As he did, Katie glanced anxiously at Joe.
“Joe,” she began, but he shook his head slightly and offered her a reassuring smile. He then backed away from the Chinook while Katie was helped inside the cabin.
Joe kept his eyes on the helicopter, waiting for it to take off, wanting Katie to be all right. He had a feeling that showing his feelings so blatantly for a non-com, while on active duty out in the field, might not show too well on his career record. If his CO heard about it, he supposed he would be in for a lecture or two and it wouldn’t be of the fatherly kind. As far as he was concerned, he didn’t care. This was a very strong admission for him but the main priority for him now was Katie. All he wanted was this woman who was being treated aboard the medevac helicopter. He realized finally how much she meant to him, how much he loved her.
He watched as the rotor blades of the Chinook sped up, and as the engines reached full power, the nose tilted up and it rose gracefully into the air. It banked to the left and took off at speed.
Tense and stressed, Joe stood with his hands on his hips, gazing after the helicopter, hearing the noise of its engines fading into the distance. He eventually became aware that Sergeant Eastman had come to stand beside him and was talking to him. He turned abstractedly away to face his sergeant.
“Take it easy, Joe,” Louis Eastman advised quietly. “She’s safe now. Loosen up.”
“Yeah,” Joe replied, still staring in the direction of where the helicopter had disappeared.
“Joe, you need to get a grip. We have a patrol to finish and the men are getting antsy. We all know you’re seeing the young lady but you need to focus,” Louis continued.
“Roger that,” Joe responded. He turned on his heel. “Let’s get to it.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Once inside the helicopter, one of the CTT took Katie’s bergen, helmet and weapon from her, and led her to a stretcher and helped her lie down. She immediately sighed and closed her eyes. She could feel someone taking off her jackets and placing a blood pressure cuff around her upper arm before pumping it up. During this time, the engines powered up and the helicopter took off with barely a jolt.
A woman’s voice spoke to her asking, “Katie, can you hear me?”
Katie didn’t want to open her eyes but the voice persisted in calling her name. Eventually she focused on the female Corporal CTM leaning over her, vaguely recognizing her as Angie Wilson. Corporal Wilson smiled. “Hi there,” she said soothingly. “Can you tell me your name?”
Katie smiled slightly. “I know the drill,” she murmured. “My name is Katie Walker, rank Corporal, serial number WA8061, and date of birth five July, blood group B positive. I have had loss of consciousness, symptoms of shock, dizziness, vomiting, bangs and bruises, no broken bones and a terrible headache.”
The CTM smiled in appreciation. “Well, you’re pretty oriented all right. Can we look at that bump on your head?”
Katie went to nod, thought better of it and agreed. “Yes.”
After removing the gauze dressing—some of the surgical tape was sticking to Katie’s hair, causing her to wince—the C
TT surgeon studied it carefully. “Nasty,” he said, “but no major damage, although it’ll hurt like hell for a few days.” He shone a penlight into each eye. “Okay, Corporal, as you probably already know what’s wrong with you, I’ll just give you a brief rundown. You have a concussion from that bang on the head. You’re also a bit dehydrated through the vomiting, your blood pressure is a little low, and you’re suffering from a bit of shock. We’ll get you assessed at the CTH and they’ll probably admit you for twenty-four hours, just to keep an eye on you, get you rehydrated, and your blood pressure up a bit. As for now, we’ll start a drip. It’ll make you feel better. Is that okay?”
“Yes, sir,” Katie answered.
She was left alone for a few minutes then somebody rubbed the back of her hand with a cold solution, and as per the standard medical statement, someone said to her, “This might sting a bit,” which was an understatement, as patients generally found out. There was a sharp scratch then a stinging pressure as the cannula slid into the thin skin and muscle of the back of her hand. She felt the cannula taped to the back of her hand then she was covered in a tin foil blanket with an Army blanket on top. For the first time that night, she felt warm and relaxed. The headache had diminished slightly and she found herself drifting off. The last thought in her mind was whether she would be released from the CTH in time to meet Joe the next night.
Katie next became aware of a slight jar as the helicopter landed then the ramp at the rear lowered. Two ambulance medics came up to lift her stretcher and take it down the ramp.
“I don’t need all this,” Katie protested in a murmur.
The female CTM laughed. “Come on,” she teased. “We all know that doctors and nurses and medics make the worst patients. Be a good girl.”
After being loaded into the back of an ambulance, it drove off to the CTH. On arrival, a trauma team was waiting out front and they placed Katie on a gurney and wheeled it through the doors. Once in a trauma room, they lifted her from the gurney onto an examination table.
For the Love of a Marine Page 23
