At 3:07, the ambulance bay doors burst open.
Cold wind and sheets of rain flooded into the hallway. Two olive green military trucks backed in under the bay lights, tires hissing on the wet concrete.
Men dropped out of the back doors before the wheels even stopped rolling.
Black helmets with night vision mounts. Tactical vests. Rifles slung low across their chests. And two German shepherds in black tactical harnesses, pulling hard at their leashes, noses working the air.
The corpsmen took a step back. One of the night nurses from the medical floor, who’d come down to see what was happening, covered her mouth with her hand.
Teague forgot to close his.
The men were carrying a stretcher between them. On it lay a big man in torn, muddy fatigues. His face was as pale as printer paper. A tourniquet was cinched high and tight around his left thigh.
The man at the front of the stretcher scanned the room. Gray beard, cut short. Hard, dark eyes. The patch on his shoulder said HOLLOWAY.
Master Chief Ray Holloway.
His eyes moved across every single face in that hallway. Teague. The corpsmen. Linda.
They stopped on Annie.
Neither of them spoke.
The two dogs stopped pulling. Both of them turned their heads at the same moment and looked straight at her.
Holloway’s jaw tightened. When his voice came, it was barely a whisper.
“Angel Six.”
Annie didn’t answer him. There wasn’t time.
“Bay One. Move.”
The team rolled the stretcher into the trauma bay. Four of the men lifted the patient onto the bed in one smooth motion. Nobody had to tell them how. Nobody had to count.
“Name?” Annie asked.
“Chief Eli Hart,” Holloway said. “K-nine handler. Training breach went wrong at the range. Fragments in the left chest and left thigh. Tourniquet on at oh-two-forty-five.”
Annie checked the tourniquet. The time was written in black marker on a strip of white tape. 0245. She pressed on the strap. Tight. Correct.
“Good,” she said.
She cut his shirt open down the middle with trauma shears.
Small puncture wounds dotted the left side of Hart’s chest. None of them bigger than a thumbnail. They looked almost harmless.
They weren’t.
“Breath sounds,” she said.
Danny pressed his stethoscope to Hart’s chest. He listened. His face changed.
“Nothing on the left. Almost nothing.”
Annie tapped her fingers against Hart’s chest wall. Not a hollow sound. A dull, heavy thud. Like knocking on a full barrel.
“Hemothorax. Massive. His chest is filling up with blood. Vitals?”
“Pressure seventy-two over forty,” Danny read off the monitor. “Heart rate one thirty-four. Oxygen eighty-two.”
“Oxygen on. Two large-bore IVs. Danny, start the rapid infuser. Red cells and plasma, one to one.”
Danny stared at her.
He had worked beside this woman for seven months. He did not recognize the person giving him orders right now.
“Danny.”
“Yes. Yes, Chief. I mean, Annie.”
The word just slipped out of him. Chief.
Nobody corrected him.
Teague pushed forward toward the bed.
“Hold on. Hold on a second. I’m the attending physician. I’ll decide what we—”
“Doctor.” Annie didn’t look up. “He has minutes. You’re welcome to supervise.”
It wasn’t a request. It was an offer.
And somehow, it left him with absolutely nothing to say.
Lila Hart is a dedicated Digital Archivist and Research Specialist with a keen eye for preserving and curating meaningful content. At TheArchivists, she specializes in organizing and managing digital archives, ensuring that valuable stories and historical moments are accessible for generations to come.
Lila earned her degree in History and Archival Studies from the University of Edinburgh, where she cultivated her passion for documenting the past and preserving cultural heritage. Her expertise lies in combining traditional archival techniques with modern digital tools, allowing her to create comprehensive and engaging collections that resonate with audiences worldwide.
At TheArchivists, Lila is known for her meticulous attention to detail and her ability to uncover hidden gems within extensive archives. Her work is praised for its depth, authenticity, and contribution to the preservation of knowledge in the digital age.
Driven by a commitment to preserving stories that matter, Lila is passionate about exploring the intersection of history and technology. Her goal is to ensure that every piece of content she handles reflects the richness of human experiences and remains a source of inspiration for years to come.