Page 13 of Hard Corps (Selected Sinners MC 7)

CHAPTER SIX

Late Winter 2004, Landstuhl regional Medical Center, Landstuhl, Germany

Incapable of moving anything but my head, I shifted my eyes around the room. Everywhere I looked, white. White walls, white floors, white curtains, and white medical equipment surrounded me. I had been in and out of consciousness for days, and was well aware a reasonable amount of time had passed since sustaining my injuries.

Somewhat convinced I was paralyzed, but sedated to a point of near delirium, I tilted my head from left to right and gazed down along the edge of the bed. After blinking my eyes a few times and allowing them to come into focus, I realized my arms and legs were secured to the bed with restraints.

What the fuck is going on?

I pulled against the restraints, but my movement was something the medical staff was obviously trying to prevent. Shifting my body from side to side caused tremendous pain in my hip and lower back, and twisting my unrestrained torso was all I was really capable of doing.

I pressed my tongue against the roof of my dry mouth and pried my chapped lips apart.

“Nurse?” I murmured.

The distant sounds of monitors and an occasional muffled moan were all I could hear. I attempted to swallow and tilted my head back slightly.

“Nurse! Nurse! I need a fucking nurse!” I weakly shouted as I fought against the restraints.

Within a few seconds several members of the medical staff were in front of me, all speaking at once.

“Stop. Everybody stop. I can’t fucking understand a word you’re saying. Who’s the senior…” I paused, realizing they weren’t Marines, but Army doctors and nurses.

“Who’s in charge?” I asked.

A doctor and what appeared to be two nurses stood at the foot of the bed and returned stares of disbelief.

“I’m Doctor Nguyen. I’m the doctor assigned to you,” the doctor said.

“Alright. Why am I restrained? I’m not a prisoner, am I?” I asked.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, inhaled a shallow breath, and shifted his eyes toward the nurse on his left. She returned a glance of uncertainty.

The tone of my voice changed to one of concern.

“Am I?” I asked.

The thought of being charged with crimes against the Geneva Convention began to run through my mind, but as close as I was able to recall, everything I did was according to policy, procedure, my standing orders, and the Uniform Code of Military Justice.

“What the fuck is going on?” I asked at the same time the doctor raised his hand to speak.

“No,” he responded. “You are not a prisoner, and that is not why you have been restrained.”

The two nurses that flanked him looked at me with concerned eyes as he continued.

“You sustained multiple severe injuries,” he said with a nod of his head. “A concussion, lacerations, puncture wounds, a broken jaw, and four gunshot wounds were the most severe wounds.”

“You had been treated at the Combat Support Hospital in Baghdad, Iraq, and flown here for…”

“Where’s here?” Where the fuck am I? Where are my men?” I asked, interrupting him as he spoke.

I gazed into the corridor and watched as two doctors rushed a bloody body down the hallway. As I shifted my focus back to the doctor, I knew one thing, and one thing only. If I wasn’t being charged with a crime, I needed to get the fuck out of there and get back to my Marines. As I pulled against the restraints I noticed the audible signal of my heart rate increase on the monitor. I alternated glanced between the nurses and the doctor as I waited for a response.

“Mr. Jacob, I’m trying to explain, please settle down and listen…”

“Staff Sergeant. I’m Staff Sergeant Jacob. Mr. Jacob is my father, and where are my Marines?” I asked.

“Staff Sergeant Jacob. I will have you sedated if you don’t settle down,” the doctor said.