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He noticed that the jungle seemed lighter and pulled his NVGs down around his neck. Dawn. Dawn was coming. Everything was a deep gray, but his eyes adjusted and he could see fairly well. Glancing up at Nik, who lay quietly, eyes closed, head resting against the boulder, Alex could see how pale he really was. He’d lost a lot of blood. Even he wasn’t out of the woods yet, either.
Alex heard noise. He jerked his head up. Nate Cunningham was laboring toward them as fast as he could jog. He was loaded down with a huge ruck on his back, a Russian one. Under one arm, he carried two medium-sized oxygen tanks. Under the other one, as many blankets as he could manage. Alex got up and helped him unload everything once he’d halted at the boulder. The medic was breathing hard, sweat gleaming on his face. He’d also taken off his NVGs as well.
Nate unloaded the heavy medical ruck off from his back. Dropping to his knees, he tore open the Velcro on it. “The O2 cannula is in here,” he gasped, pulling it out along with the tubing. “Good news, Alex. There’s two more bottles in here. Damn, it was a motherfucker trying to run with this load.”
Alex grabbed a bottle and the O2 mask. “You did good,” he praised, kneeling by Lauren. He inserted a tube into the bottle, laying it down nearby. Gently, he eased the cannula around her head, fitting the two small oxygen tubes into each of her nostrils. Laying her down, he turned, twisting the knob, watching the hand of the meter climb. Setting it at the right level, he quickly listened to her lungs and took her blood pressure.
Nate moved around him, spotting the poles and the one litter Alex had prepared. “Hey, we’re thinking on the same wavelength,” he told Alex. “I brought extra blankets, thinking we could use them to carry these two.”
“I got one litter done,” Alex said, watching the needle on the blood pressure cuff. He was almost breathing along with Lauren, praying that the pure oxygen would begin to make a difference. He leaned over her, monitoring, listening, watching. There was no difference for nearly ten minutes. But then, he watched the color begin to slowly seep back into her waxen face. Relief, sharp and jagged, tore through him. He heard a difference in her breathing. Her blood pressure was rising. The oximeter read seventy! All good signs! For a moment, he squeezed his eyes closed, his mouth tight. Tears burned behind his tightly-shut eyes. Forcing them back, he watched the color slowly come back into her face.
“She looks better,” Nik said wearily, his head turned toward them, watching Lauren in the gray light, peripherally aware of Nate working frantically off to one side, getting the second litter ready.
“Yes,” Alex breathed thickly. “She is improving.” He looked up at Nik. “You have given her a fighting chance. Thank you,” and he reached out, gripping Nik’s shoulder and giving it a hard squeeze. He saw his lifelong friend grin a little. It was a weak grin, but it was there.
“If anyone deserves to live, my brother, it’s her.”
Nate came over and said, “Look, there’s Mace and Cale coming in,” as he gestured in their direction.
Alex looked up, his heart pounding. The two men arrived swiftly, breathing hard, faces glistening with sweat.
“Just talked to the Hawk,” Killmer said, looking around at the litters, and the medical rucks open around them. “ETA is forty minutes.”
“How far to the LZ?” Alex demanded.
“One mile,” he said grimly, shrugging. “Wish it was closer,” and he was staring down at Lauren. “How’s she doing?”
“Better, but still critical,” Alex said. He gestured toward Nik, “This is Nik Morozov, combat medic. He is a FRIEND, Ukrainian, the only other one in their team who was a human being. He helped save Lauren.”
Killmer nodded toward Morozov. “Thanks,” he told him. “We need to get these two out of here pronto. What do you want us to do?”
Alex stood. He saw Nate had fastened a long green wool blanket around the spare poles to make a second litter. “Lauren has broken ribs on both sides.” He saw the grizzled sergeant grimace. Killmer knew what that meant. “And Morozov has lost a lot of blood.”
“I estimate two to three pints,” Nate added, hauling the first litter near Lauren. “He’s in no shape to walk. If he tried, he’d just slow us down, Mace. We can’t afford that. Lauren has to be gotten to an ER, stat.”
Nodding, Killmer said, “Alex, you and me will carry Lauren’s litter. Nate, you and Cale take Morozov’s litter.”
Relieved that they were going to get Lauren to the helicopter, Alex had the help of all three Special Forces men as they carefully lifted Lauren and transferred her onto the litter. She was unconscious, limp, and as soon as she was laying in the center of the litter, Alex quickly covered her with the two warm woolen blankets they had left, tucking them in around her.
Nik protested about being carried, but Nate cut him off, telling him that Lauren was critical; that him trying to walk right now would put her in worse jeopardy. The Ukrainian nodded, lying down without further protest on the second litter. Alex came over and started to put a blanket over him.
“No,” Nik growled, “put it on Lauren. She must be kept warm to stop the shock from worsening. I’m fine…”
Alex knew he wasn’t. Nik’s uniform, like everyone else’s, was wet from the rain. He was chilled. However, ceasing any further argument with his friend, he quickly turned, knelt and placed the blanket across Lauren. Next came the oxygen tank, which he fitted between her lower legs. It would ride well there, no problem. The only thing he worried about was that Lauren might sink and sag into the litter. That could put undue pressure on some of those ribs, pressing inward, possibly disabling her ability to expand her lungs and get enough air into them. Everything was so tentative. So dangerous for her.
Nate came around as her litter was hefted up by Mace and Alex. “Hold up,” he said. He quickly rolled up two of the reflective blankets. “I’m going to put one on each side of her lower ribcage,” he explained to Alex. “To stabilize her so she’s not rolling from side to side as you walk.”
Alex was grateful for the 18 Delta corpsman’s experience and knowledge. Nate quickly tucked in the blanket rolls and nodded. “Okay, let’s boogie…”
They couldn’t run. They couldn’t trot. That kind of jagged up-and-down motion would harm Lauren’s already compromised torso. It could send a rib jabbing into one of her vulnerable lungs. So, they walked carefully, using their upper-body weight to lift and hold the litter as steady and stable as possible. The sky was brightening, and Alex kept his gaze on Lauren as much as he could. He couldn’t risk stopping to take her blood pressure or listen to her lungs again. All he could do was look at her skin tone. Her red hair had loosened more and was a crimson frame around her face and shoulders, her lips parted, unconscious. Without enough oxygen, a person lost consciousness and Alex knew this was the case here. As the light increased, he saw, to his relief, that her cheeks were becoming less pale. The more oxygen that got into her body the better her circulation would become; more oxygen dispensed to the red blood cells, which increased the pinkness of her flesh.
As they crested a small hill, Alex spotted the opening in the jungle. Grateful that their rescuers had found something so close, he heard the deep thumping of a helicopter’s blades in the distance. His hopes rose. Lauren’s chance of survival, which he couldn’t do without, had just improved. But now, they were faced with another terrible challenge: the unstable air, the CAT, clear air turbulence, that ruled the night until dawn came. If the ride was rough, it could kill her.
CHAPTER 19
The Night Stalkerpilot cut the blade power to bare minimum at the request of Mace, who radioed in that they had two critical casevacs coming on board. They loaded Nik first, the litter placed against the port bulkhead and locked in. Alex and Mace brought Lauren in, who remained unconscious and positioned her with her head toward the cockpit and feet toward the tail of the Hawk. They transferred her to an empty litter attached to the starboard bulkhead of the helo, locking her in, pulling a number of nylon straps across her to keep her stable so she wouldn’t be tossed out into the cabin by turbulence. Everyone else quickly climbed into the crowded bird. As the air crew chief slid and locked the door shut, Alex pulled on his helmet and plugged it into the intercom mic by his lips. So did everyone else.
Alex recognized the pilot, Captain Jake Curtis, the Texan, as the man twisted to his left, looking down into the low lit cabin.
