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He knew Lauren couldn’t see him; it was so damned dark. He could see her through his NVGs, her mouth contorted, head moving restlessly, trying to suck in enough air to survive. Gently, he pressed his fingers along each side of her throat, checking her trachea, making sure it wasn’t compromised, that it wasn’t causing her even more breathing problems. It was not. A small piece of good luck.
Alex heard a man groan behind him, and speak out in Ukrainian. That voice. He knew that voice! Lifting his head, he twisted around. Nate Cunningham was working on the man’s bloody upper arm. He no longer wore the balaclava that had hidden his face. A gasp tore out of Alex. It was Nik Morozov!
“Oh my God, Nik?” Alex called to him in Ukrainian, and turned enough to grip his friend’s shoulder.
Morozov reacted, pale, his face beaded with perspiration, eyes shocky. He slowly rolled his head toward Alex. A wobbly smile pulled at his mouth. “Alex… you’re okay?”
“Yes,” Alex said, suddenly emotional. “Why are you with Lauren? What happened?”
Nik swallowed, his voice a rasp. “Later… How is she?”
“Not good. Two bullets to her vest, upper chest. Rib fractures or breaks. Severe respiratory distress.”
Frowning, Morozov said, “She saved my life… save hers…”
Alex squeezed his shoulder. “Just rest, Nik. You’re in good hands. You’re going to make it.” He watched his friend of many years fall unconscious. He looked over to see Nate had put an IV into his arm and had attached the drip’s saline pouch to the epaulet of Nik’s jacket. The pouch had to be higher than the injection point in order to drip-feed its life saving fluid into the badly-wounded soldier.
“Is he stable?” Alex demanded of Nate.
“Yeah, getting there,” he grunted. “He was starting to crash. Heavy loss of blood. Damn, wish I had some whole blood on me. Do you have any?”
Shaking his head, Alex turned, his hand on Lauren’s head. Her eyes were closed and she wasn’t gasping as much anymore. “Just Quick Clot. Nothing else.”
“We’re going to have to transport these two,” Nate warned.
“We’ll do it,” Alex answered grimly. He took his stethoscope, sliding it beneath the jacket over Lauren, placing it gently on her chest, listening for breathing sounds. He placed two fingers against her inner wrist, feeling her jerky, bounding pulse. She was quieting now from the morphine taking hold, giving her relief from the pain. Her breathing was a little easier. She was able to take in slightly deeper breaths. When people suffered broken ribs, they couldn’t fully expand their ribcage, which was composed of curved bones around their delicate lungs. And, if they didn’t get enough oxygen, their entire system was at risk. Not enough oxygen meant the whole body plunged into deeper shock. And shock would kill.
Alex stroked his fingers across Lauren’s brow, whispering her name, telling her everything would be all right. She was non-responsive, her thick red lashes laying against her waxen flesh. Alex was scared. But he kept whispering near Lauren’s ear, soothing her, giving her hope. So often in the battlefield, a touch, a low calm voice from the medic made the difference. It could slow the downward spiral of blood pressure dropping, and then killing a person. He swore he could feel her respond even though she was unconscious.
Looking up, he wanted so badly for that Black Hawk to get here. In order to do so, those pilots would be flying in the worst possible weather conditions. He pulled the cover off his watch. It was 0400. The bird wouldn’t arrive until 0500. Dawn. The start of a new day. The very hour the winds reversed and flying was easy, instead of dangerous. He shakily pulled the NVGs down off his eyes for a moment, wiping his sweaty face, wiping away the stinging salt running into his eyes, blurring his vision.
“How’s Lauren?” Nate demanded.
“Critical.” Alex said and heard the medic curse softly.
“GSW?” Gunshot wound.
“No… She took two rounds to the upper chest but the Dragon Skin vest stopped them.” His voice grew hoarse with the emotions he could no longer constrain because he loved her. “She’s got a minimum of two broken or cracked ribs on the right side of her torso, and at least three on the left. It’s compromising her ability to get oxygen.”
“Shit! I don’t have O2 tanks in my ruck…”
Alex’s heart plunged. “If Lauren doesn’t start breathing a little better in a few minutes, I’m going to have to intubate her and then I will use the manual pump to get oxygen into her lungs.”
“Okay, I’ll try to help you,” Nate said. “This guy is stable now. I’ve given him just enough morphine to stop the pain, and he’s becoming conscious.”
“Good,” Alex whispered. “You need to know his name is Nik Morozov. He’s my best friend. And he is a Ukrainian combat medic. He will not give you any trouble. I think he was trying to get Lauren to safety…” Alex leaned down and placed a kiss against Lauren’s damp brow. He straightened, pulling his NVGs back over his eyes. Again, he slid the stethoscope beneath the jacket covering her and listened for breathing. Relief jagged through him. She was relaxed, the pain neutralized to a degree, and her ribcage was moving easier. She was taking in slightly fuller breaths. That meant she was getting more oxygen into her. He took her blood pressure, wrapping the cuff around her upper right arm. It was 300 over 60; not good. Her body was laboring to stabilize and wasn’t finding purchase. Dammit! His heart ached. Alex wanted to cry but it wouldn’t do anyone any good. He kept caressing her hair and speaking to her, urging that she must fight back. That he loved her.
Alex heard Morozov gasp, “Help me sit up,” in English. He looked to his left, seeing Nate help his friend into a sitting position against the rock. Nate had put a sling around Nik’s right arm, tight against his chest, to keep it stable.
“Alex,” Nik gasped unsteadily, reaching out, gripping his arm. “The cave… where we keep everything. It’s only a mile from here. There’s four oxygen tanks and a cannula in my medical gear ruck…”
Alex raised his head, more than interested. Getting pure oxygen into Lauren could mean the difference between her living or dying. “Where is the cave? Can you tell us?” His voice was low with urgency.
“Y-yes,” Morozov whispered, weak, tipping his head back against the rock and closing his eyes. Nate and Alex were intently watching the Ukrainian, hanging on his every word as he gave directions.
Did they have time to make the run? Alex thought so. “Thank you, Nik,” he said, gripping his friend’s hand, squeezing it hard.
Nik barely opened his eyes, his mouth stretched into what was supposed to be a smile, but looked like a grimace. “You can get there swiftly, Alex. Just follow the tracks. You can do this for her. She deserves it…”
