Paul Kirk - Devastation Point

“Understood,” he said, nodding in appreciation. He held down the suggested button. “This is Major McLoy to headquarters. Do you copy? Over.”

After a few seconds delay, the major repeated his message.

“This is Sergeant Williams,” came the answer. “Go ahead, major. Over.”

“Willie, we’re inbound with the president on Marine One. We’re carrying two wounded men, one very critical. We’re bypassing the garrison and heading to Nemacolin for immediate medical assistance. Over.”

“Roger that, major. Over.”

“Advise the commander of our intent. Alert Nemacolin to prepare for two wounded. One man has two gunshot wounds, one in the shoulder and the other in the hip. His wounds are serious, but stable and not yet life threatening. The other man is critical with a gunshot in the leg and one in the arm. The one in the arm may have nicked an artery—he’s lost a lot of blood, Willie. He is on an IV drip. Wounds are being tended to as best we can for now. Over.”

“Understood, major. Will advise commander of plan to bypass the garrison. I’ll radio Nemacolin to expect you. Over.”

“Let ’em know we’ll be landing on the airstrip helipads, Willie. Over.”

“Roger that, sir. Out.”

In less than a minute, the sergeant’s voice returned to the radio. “Sergeant Williams to Major McLoy. Do you read, sir? Over.”

“Yeah, Willie, I’m here. Over.”

“Sir, Nemacolin is up to speed. They want an ETA. General Harmon wants a report on what’s happening down the hill. Over.”

“The president’s ’copter hit the enemy with a Hellfire missile at the base of the mountain. That stopped their main force from advancing. We saw the garrison unit scream down the hill to assist. I’d send additional men to secure the highway below the Hellfire strike—that army may organize again and decide to take another shot up the hill. Hold for ETA. Over.”

“Roger that, major. Holding for ETA. Over.”

Keenan raised an eyebrow toward Shamus in question.

“How far away is this Nemacolin?” Shamus asked.

“It’s another few miles.”

“Tell ’em we’ll be there in five,” said Shamus.

“Willie, let Nemacolin know we’ll be there in five minutes. Over.”

“Roger that, sir. Over and out.”

Major McLoy turned in his seat and caught the colonel’s eye. “Ma’am, can you hear me?”

“Yes, major,” she answered, “I heard your entire conversation.”

“Yes, ma’am. Willie’s good on the radio, colonel—he’ll have everyone at Nemacolin notified. They’re a great bunch of docs there, ma’am. We’ll make sure both of ’em survive.”

“Yeah, major, I know you’ll try.”

Beyond the crest of the next hill, a massive clearing interrupted the trees revealing the sprawling and well-maintained grounds of Nemacolin Woodlands. An airstrip, unused in recent years, was situated on the east end of the compound. Clearly marked, two helipads were built nearer the airstrip’s link to the main hotel. Each helipad was forty feet in diameter; Shamus targeted the one closest to the building and dropped the nose of the aircraft in a controlled dive. Ten people with two gurneys stood near the building entrance waiting.

“Scott!” yelled Colonel Starkes over the intercom.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, looking up from redressing Connor’s wounds.

“You’re to stay with Colonel MacMillen at all times when he leaves this bird. There’s a team of medical personnel down there that I assume will take him to an operating room. You will attend that operation. You will assist if needed. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“GT!”

“Ma’am?”

“You’re to stay with the other wounded man—BB.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“GT, stay with BB throughout. I want each of you to report back when the medical outcome is apparent. Am I clear?”

“Understood, ma’am,” said Scott.

“Yes, ma’am,” said GT.

“We’re down. We’re down, ma’am,” said Shamus, “Go!”

The bay doors opened as the helicopter’s skids gently touched the ground. A gurney and medical personnel waited on each side of the helicopter.

“Move out!” shouted Colonel Starkes, “Daniels, Ren, Stimpy and McDonald, stay with the Professor and protect this bird!”

Connor Mac and BB were positioned at each bay door for offloading. Nicole caught the attention of CJ and tried to direct his eyes toward Connor and the bay door.

“CJ, that’s your daddy. See? No, look there. Him. That’s your daddy.”

White lab coats swirled in the draft from the slowing rotors of the bird. Medical personnel offloaded Connor and BB immediately onto the gurneys. Nearing the hotel entrance doors and away from the rotor noise, a tall, handsome man with blazing eyes took over. He was clearly in charge.

“I’m Dr. Gerry Cooper. What do we have?” He addressed Scott, correctly assuming he was the individual most suited to answer.

“Gerry,” said Scott, “I’m Scott. I’m a medic.” He stayed next to the gurney with his hand never leaving the rail as they rushed forward. GT shadowed Scott doing the same with BB.

“Give me your take on this, Scott—I’ll take all the help I can get.”

“BB, who’s behind us is doing okay—Mac’s doing bad. He needs surgery. His vitals are down. He’s lost a lotta blood, Dr. Cooper,” said Scott, bolstering his words with passion.

“What’s his blood type,” asked the doctor.

“AB positive on Mac, B positive on BB.”

Cooper turned to a woman on his right. “Sally, review the blood donor list and have everyone who has AB positive or B positive blood to the ER. I want you drawing blood before I arrive, okay?”

“Yes, doctor, I’m on it.” She ran to the door, intent on her task.

“Let’s get moving! I want them both in the operating rooms pronto,” said Dr. Cooper. “This Mac guy needs first priority. Marcus, Springer, this one’s mine.”

Both doctors were tending to BB and nodded. The medical personnel nimbly guided the two gurneys holding Connor and BB down the halls of the hotel.

Colonel Starkes moved toward the Doctor. She wanted an update, but a truthful one.

“Dr. Cooper,” she said, “I’m Colonel—”

“Not now!” he answered. “I know who you are, Starkes. Please, sit tight. I apologize for my lack of tact, but if I have any hope of saving this guy, he needs to be on my table now.”

“Go, doctor,” she said, without hesitation.

“I think there’s a nicked artery in the leg or arm. If I don’t get that addressed, he’s a dead man. Medic, you need to be with me at the operating table. We’re a bit short-handed.”

“Okay, Doc, I’ll follow you.”

“I’ll need you sterile,” said Doctor Cooper. “Scrub in. It’s inside the red door near the operational theater.”

“I get it, Doc, I’ll scrub in.”

“Good, Scott, I need the help. This time, you’ll serve as second surgeon to me. Doctors Marcus and Springer will tend to your friend—is it BB?”

“Yes, it is, Doc. I’ll help you as much as I can.”

“Yeah, I know. Springer and Marcus will be fine with BB. His wounds aren’t as bad and they’re perfectly capable of patching him up.” Dr. Cooper looked down at his patient. With the injection of fresh IV fluids, Connor stirred. Cooper heard him groan and saw the flutter of his eyelids. “Damn, he’s a tough sonuvabitch. He’s coming around.”

“How far to the operating room?” asked Amanda.

A young orderly turned to face Amanda. “The operating room is on the other side of the hotel. It’ll take us a couple minutes.”

Amanda nodded with growing concern. The gurneys were pushed forward with impressive efficiency. Behind them, the colonel and her team followed.