ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
No problems with shiny, over 10 years old with classic Subaru grey, well cared for and upgraded. Yes a tool, Kara just doesn’t want it damaged haphazardly, i.e. don’t drive it like a rental
Story Market Day
- Thread starter ComCamGuy
- Start date
No problems with shiny, over 10 years old with classic Subaru grey, well cared for and upgraded. Yes a tool, Kara just doesn’t want it damaged haphazardly, i.e. don’t drive it like a rental
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Bekka’s route was a bit convoluted, especially after moving out of the older residential areas higher up in the outskirts of the city. They kept seeing more and more signs of violence as they moved lower. They also saw signs in the distance of the massive walls of water that had charged inward. The biggest worry for Bekka in her route study was finding the best way to get past areas with failed elevated roadways. She was working with the age-old PACE military acronym. It stood for Primary, Alternate, Contingency, and Emergency.
She had laid it all out and Garen had gone over it with her. They were hoping for things to work well, a nice morning drive. They also knew that probably wouldn’t be what happened. With things already going slower than they hoped, they might have to spend the night holed up somewhere if they didn’t want to attract attention by driving at night.
As they moved into an area of mixed residential and light business, Garen spoke up about a possible problem.
“Hey, babe, looks like we have a follower. Non-government looking vehicle, Big SUV, lots of tint and a gold grill. Make a couple extra bends to see if I’m wrong, and pick somewhere to suck them in if I’m right.”
Up front, Bekka was swearing softly and vehemently, the map of the area whirling in her head. Her eyes darted all over the place, mirrors, windscreen, gauges, GPS, all in an attempt to get a leg up on this potential enemy. If they were being followed for nefarious purpose, they might be trying to drive them into an ambush. This means she needed to avoid getting boxed in in the kill zone. She also needed to find a couple extra turns she could try and confirm the bad intent. She found just the place.
As Bekka was navigating on the fly, Garen had pulled the big Italian semiauto shotgun from its overhead rack. He loaded up several big solid slugs made for deep penetration into the tubular magazine and got ready.
Angelique was worried. She wasn’t sure what she could do to help. She decided that the best thing was to sit quietly and wait for instructions, some of which came rapidly.
Bekka began barking out info to Angelique and Garen.
“I have a route ready. I have about 4 turns lined up. If they follow, then you can dump their ride and leave them behind. Angelique, tighten your belts and if it all goes wrong, don’t forget your bail bag.”
Bekka sped up a bit. Not too much to give it away they knew they were being followed, just enough for them to have to step up their rate of travel or lose them. After several turns, they were sure they were supposed to be the victims. Bekka executed her plan. They turned the corner into a narrow alley and was briefly out of view. When the big SUV rounded the corner, they were expecting the truck they were chasing to be much farther down the alley. Instead, they rounded the corner and was almost right on top of the truck and trailer. This was also when they noticed the big Benelli in Garen’s hands pointed directly at them.
Garen unloaded six slugs followed by two 12 gauge flares into the engine compartment of the SUV as fast as the semi would run. The SUV slammed on its brakes at about the same time the engine was suddenly and fatally terminated. As soon as the last round was out the barrel of Garen’s 12 gauge, Bekka hammered the gas to put time, distance and terrain between them and the attackers. This was going to be a long day.
She had laid it all out and Garen had gone over it with her. They were hoping for things to work well, a nice morning drive. They also knew that probably wouldn’t be what happened. With things already going slower than they hoped, they might have to spend the night holed up somewhere if they didn’t want to attract attention by driving at night.
As they moved into an area of mixed residential and light business, Garen spoke up about a possible problem.
“Hey, babe, looks like we have a follower. Non-government looking vehicle, Big SUV, lots of tint and a gold grill. Make a couple extra bends to see if I’m wrong, and pick somewhere to suck them in if I’m right.”
Up front, Bekka was swearing softly and vehemently, the map of the area whirling in her head. Her eyes darted all over the place, mirrors, windscreen, gauges, GPS, all in an attempt to get a leg up on this potential enemy. If they were being followed for nefarious purpose, they might be trying to drive them into an ambush. This means she needed to avoid getting boxed in in the kill zone. She also needed to find a couple extra turns she could try and confirm the bad intent. She found just the place.
As Bekka was navigating on the fly, Garen had pulled the big Italian semiauto shotgun from its overhead rack. He loaded up several big solid slugs made for deep penetration into the tubular magazine and got ready.
Angelique was worried. She wasn’t sure what she could do to help. She decided that the best thing was to sit quietly and wait for instructions, some of which came rapidly.
Bekka began barking out info to Angelique and Garen.
“I have a route ready. I have about 4 turns lined up. If they follow, then you can dump their ride and leave them behind. Angelique, tighten your belts and if it all goes wrong, don’t forget your bail bag.”
Bekka sped up a bit. Not too much to give it away they knew they were being followed, just enough for them to have to step up their rate of travel or lose them. After several turns, they were sure they were supposed to be the victims. Bekka executed her plan. They turned the corner into a narrow alley and was briefly out of view. When the big SUV rounded the corner, they were expecting the truck they were chasing to be much farther down the alley. Instead, they rounded the corner and was almost right on top of the truck and trailer. This was also when they noticed the big Benelli in Garen’s hands pointed directly at them.
Garen unloaded six slugs followed by two 12 gauge flares into the engine compartment of the SUV as fast as the semi would run. The SUV slammed on its brakes at about the same time the engine was suddenly and fatally terminated. As soon as the last round was out the barrel of Garen’s 12 gauge, Bekka hammered the gas to put time, distance and terrain between them and the attackers. This was going to be a long day.
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
T,
If the trap worked, there will not be any survivors that can walk if any survivors at all....
A Benelli semi 12 gauge shotgun holds 7 to 8 shells and is devastating up close and the shots into the SUV would cover the upper chest and heads.... Would not be a pretty sight....
Texican....
Last edited:
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Garen started talking as soon as Bekka hit the gas.
“Alright guys, they won’t be following us in that SUV. Angelique, over your head in the tray above the sun visors and behind the rear-view mirror is a shotgun like the one I have here, only shorter. I need you to get it down. If anything happens, in addition to the bail bag, carry the shotgun and the big bandolier that is on the floor under your seat behind your bail bag. It is loaded, but there is no round in the chamber. If you have to, yank back on the big lever on the side, then aim and squeeze. It has five rounds of triple aught buck. The last one is a flare round, so if you see a big green ball of flame fly downrange, stop trying to use the shotgun and use your pistol until you can reload.”
Angelique pulled down the shotgun. Garen was right, it seemed significantly shorter, with both a shorter barrel and a collapsing stock. Otherwise it looked just like the one in Garen’s hands. She looped the sling over her head and one shoulder, letting it hang down to her right side. She then pulled the bandolier out from under the seat. There were over 20 twelve-gauge rounds on it. It was very heavy for its size. She figured she could slip it over other shoulder and head, then grab her bail bag on the way out of the vehicle if it came to it.
Garen was reloading his shotgun from one of the big ammo cans along the back wall of the cab as he stared out the back and sides, scanning for the next threat.
Bekka meanwhile called in a sitrep to Kara and Allyson to not only let them know what happened, but to update them on the conditions along the route. She did this with coded waypoints to avoid someone being able to trace the route back to the house, her biggest concern. To that end, she had even swapped out the license plates for ones that couldn’t be traced back to them. They had copied an old paper temporary tag and applied some photoshop magic to it, ending up with a blank temporary plate. They then could print them and make bogus plates.
As amped up as they were prior to the confrontation, in a way, Bekka and Garen were more relaxed now. The waiting was over. They knew they were probably going to have a problem, but now they were fully into problem solving and reaction mode. Angelique on the other hand was still stressed out but trying to absorb the calm Bekka and Garen were exhibiting. It was going to be a long day.
“Alright guys, they won’t be following us in that SUV. Angelique, over your head in the tray above the sun visors and behind the rear-view mirror is a shotgun like the one I have here, only shorter. I need you to get it down. If anything happens, in addition to the bail bag, carry the shotgun and the big bandolier that is on the floor under your seat behind your bail bag. It is loaded, but there is no round in the chamber. If you have to, yank back on the big lever on the side, then aim and squeeze. It has five rounds of triple aught buck. The last one is a flare round, so if you see a big green ball of flame fly downrange, stop trying to use the shotgun and use your pistol until you can reload.”
Angelique pulled down the shotgun. Garen was right, it seemed significantly shorter, with both a shorter barrel and a collapsing stock. Otherwise it looked just like the one in Garen’s hands. She looped the sling over her head and one shoulder, letting it hang down to her right side. She then pulled the bandolier out from under the seat. There were over 20 twelve-gauge rounds on it. It was very heavy for its size. She figured she could slip it over other shoulder and head, then grab her bail bag on the way out of the vehicle if it came to it.
Garen was reloading his shotgun from one of the big ammo cans along the back wall of the cab as he stared out the back and sides, scanning for the next threat.
Bekka meanwhile called in a sitrep to Kara and Allyson to not only let them know what happened, but to update them on the conditions along the route. She did this with coded waypoints to avoid someone being able to trace the route back to the house, her biggest concern. To that end, she had even swapped out the license plates for ones that couldn’t be traced back to them. They had copied an old paper temporary tag and applied some photoshop magic to it, ending up with a blank temporary plate. They then could print them and make bogus plates.
As amped up as they were prior to the confrontation, in a way, Bekka and Garen were more relaxed now. The waiting was over. They knew they were probably going to have a problem, but now they were fully into problem solving and reaction mode. Angelique on the other hand was still stressed out but trying to absorb the calm Bekka and Garen were exhibiting. It was going to be a long day.
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Kara and Allyson were just in a holding pattern. They were lounging about ‘conserving energy’ as Kara put it. They were following and updating Bekka and crew’s position on the map. They had made notes along the route as Bekka called it in, including the location of the SUV that followed them and where they stopped it. This helped them look at the alternate routes that were plotted earlier. They had code names for all the choke points in the routes to the Center as well. Progress was slower than they anticipated but they were happy that the physical obstacles were fewer than they feared.
Closer and closer the marker representing them crept towards the Center. They finally called in that the Center was in sight and appeared intact. A short time later Bekka reported they were entering the structure and would report in again soon.
Kara stood and stretched. With the crew at their destination she felt a big relief. She looked over at Allyson.
“Hey, I’m going to hit the bathroom and start figuring dinner. Depending on how much they end up finding and moving and loading, they will probably rest overnight and head back towards us in the morning.” She moved towards the back of the house. Allyson stayed in place next to the radio. Kara was gone a couple of minutes when the radio burst back into life. Bekka’s rushed voice pierced the silence.
“Flash Traffic! Units Spike and Dawn down. Fully Engaged. Broken Arrow, I repeat, Broken Arrow.”
All the color drained out of Allyson’s face. It took a full second for her to comprehend and process. Time seemed to stop. She snapped into motion. She could feel and hear herself channel her father over the next thirty seconds.
“Copy, Broken Arrow.” She started putting on her plate carrier and grabbing her carbine as she yelled to the back of the house. “Boots and Saddles, Kara, Right the **** Now! Broken Arrow!”
Kara came charging out of the back room just in time to see Allyson fully geared up headed out the front door. She ran over to where her gear was in the living room. Donning her gear, she also grabbed their notes on routes. As soon as she had the gear on, she ran out to meet up with Allyson, who already had the Subaru running and waiting for Kara. As she slid in, the questions began.
“So, what do we know?”
“Bekka just called in, flash traffic, Spike and Dawn down, fully engaged, broken arrow. That’s all I have but we can hope for more if she gets any control of the situation. I figure she is busy right now. Get ready for the gate.”
They slid to a stop just in front of the gate leading out onto the state road. Kara hopped out and unlocked it. Allyson rolled through and was anxiously awaiting Kara getting back in. Once she did, they got ready to roll.
“Better pull the belts tight. This thing has a hood scoop for a reason. Give me as much warning for my turns as possible. Officer down, we got to go!”
Within the first five minutes Kara knew she had made the right choice in having Allyson drive. She was driving much faster than she would have felt comfortable with. Bekka’s little Subaru was built as a disguised rally car. It was showing its pedigrees. Allyson barely dropped under a hundred miles an hour as they raced down the road. Kara was keeping track of their position on the map as they slid and dodged all over the place. It was going to be a long day into night.
Closer and closer the marker representing them crept towards the Center. They finally called in that the Center was in sight and appeared intact. A short time later Bekka reported they were entering the structure and would report in again soon.
Kara stood and stretched. With the crew at their destination she felt a big relief. She looked over at Allyson.
“Hey, I’m going to hit the bathroom and start figuring dinner. Depending on how much they end up finding and moving and loading, they will probably rest overnight and head back towards us in the morning.” She moved towards the back of the house. Allyson stayed in place next to the radio. Kara was gone a couple of minutes when the radio burst back into life. Bekka’s rushed voice pierced the silence.
“Flash Traffic! Units Spike and Dawn down. Fully Engaged. Broken Arrow, I repeat, Broken Arrow.”
All the color drained out of Allyson’s face. It took a full second for her to comprehend and process. Time seemed to stop. She snapped into motion. She could feel and hear herself channel her father over the next thirty seconds.
“Copy, Broken Arrow.” She started putting on her plate carrier and grabbing her carbine as she yelled to the back of the house. “Boots and Saddles, Kara, Right the **** Now! Broken Arrow!”
Kara came charging out of the back room just in time to see Allyson fully geared up headed out the front door. She ran over to where her gear was in the living room. Donning her gear, she also grabbed their notes on routes. As soon as she had the gear on, she ran out to meet up with Allyson, who already had the Subaru running and waiting for Kara. As she slid in, the questions began.
“So, what do we know?”
“Bekka just called in, flash traffic, Spike and Dawn down, fully engaged, broken arrow. That’s all I have but we can hope for more if she gets any control of the situation. I figure she is busy right now. Get ready for the gate.”
They slid to a stop just in front of the gate leading out onto the state road. Kara hopped out and unlocked it. Allyson rolled through and was anxiously awaiting Kara getting back in. Once she did, they got ready to roll.
“Better pull the belts tight. This thing has a hood scoop for a reason. Give me as much warning for my turns as possible. Officer down, we got to go!”
Within the first five minutes Kara knew she had made the right choice in having Allyson drive. She was driving much faster than she would have felt comfortable with. Bekka’s little Subaru was built as a disguised rally car. It was showing its pedigrees. Allyson barely dropped under a hundred miles an hour as they raced down the road. Kara was keeping track of their position on the map as they slid and dodged all over the place. It was going to be a long day into night.
Last edited:
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Allyson was feeling a mental fracturing or disconnect. A large portion of her brain was suffering a bit of flashback and Pavlovian response. She had responded to several downed officers. It always sent the adrenalin sky high, racing to a scene where you don’t know what you are going to see, what you are going to confront, yet knowing you had a friend, a coworker injured, maybe killed. It was ingrained in her that speed of response was potentially the key difference between life and death, for both the officer that was down and potentially the public at large by stopping a potential killer from escaping. She still knew logically she was no longer a cop, but this was coworkers down. These people had invited her into their home when she had nothing and nowhere to go, even before she had realized the gravity of the situation she had ended up in.
Strangely, there was another part of her that was taking in and processing another bunch of sideways inputs. Things like she was grateful they drove in her explorer when they came and got her. She hated to think about what kind of ride it would have been if Bekka was driving this Subaru at night through the woods. Her Explorer was bad enough. This thing was scary fast and nimble. This led her to look over and see how Kara was faring with her driving. Kara had the map in her hands braced against the dash and was trying to hold herself still as she kept calling turns and obstacles. She was also a little green.
They were making good time down the road when the radio sprang to life again.
“9-Line MIST, Prepare to Copy.”
Kara started fumbling around and pulled the clipboard out of her kneeboard and flipped it over. On the back of the clipboard was a big glow in the dark NATO 9-Line Medivac Request Sticker. She grabbed a grease pencil and hit the mic.
“Prepared to copy, Go”
“One, John’s”
“Two, Buffy”
“Three, one Bravo, one Charlie”
“Four, Alpha”
“Five, One Lima, One Alpha”
“Six, X-Ray, Repeat, X-Ray”
“Seven, Delta”
“Eight, one Alpha, one Bravo”
“MIST to follow”
“MIST Alpha”
“Mike, GSW”
“India, Head”
“Sierra, Stable, Un”
“Tango, MARCH”
“MIST Bravo”
“Mike, GSW”
“India, Chest”
“Sierra, Stable”
“Tango, None”
“How Copy?”
Kara scanned the sheet and replied. “Copy all, Repeat 6”
“Six currently November, anticipate X-Ray”
“Understood. Enroute, will contact for LZ instructions and clearance.”
“Step on it, I’m above my patch”
After it was clear the radio exchange was over, Alyson spared a glance over at Kara.
“Alright Kara, explain, I don’t have the 9-line memorized and you guys shorthand everything.”
Kara looked at her notes before she spoke.
“Ok, sounds like they are in John’s apartment with two casualties. Line three says one routine and one urgent casualty. Line five says they have one litter patient, one walking wounded. Six, the one I had her elaborate on was security. They currently have no enemies at hand, but they are expecting more. Between three, six, and eight, plus the MIST, sounds like Garen has a gunshot wound to the head and is stable but unconscious, and Angelique took rounds to the chest but is stable and ambulatory. Bekka has quite a bit of medical training, including EMT and a bunch of other specific skills, but you, I and Garen are the Paramedics. That’s what the ‘above her patch’ comment was about. This all kinds of not good.”
Allyson’s hands tightened on the wheel as she pushed the pedal down a bit more, her expression grim.
“We hit the ground, you work with Bekka for security, and I’ll dive into patient care first, unless we hear otherwise. Is that enough of a plan?”
“That works until we hear more.” Kara double and triple-checked her gear as they hurdled down the road.
Strangely, there was another part of her that was taking in and processing another bunch of sideways inputs. Things like she was grateful they drove in her explorer when they came and got her. She hated to think about what kind of ride it would have been if Bekka was driving this Subaru at night through the woods. Her Explorer was bad enough. This thing was scary fast and nimble. This led her to look over and see how Kara was faring with her driving. Kara had the map in her hands braced against the dash and was trying to hold herself still as she kept calling turns and obstacles. She was also a little green.
They were making good time down the road when the radio sprang to life again.
“9-Line MIST, Prepare to Copy.”
Kara started fumbling around and pulled the clipboard out of her kneeboard and flipped it over. On the back of the clipboard was a big glow in the dark NATO 9-Line Medivac Request Sticker. She grabbed a grease pencil and hit the mic.
“Prepared to copy, Go”
“One, John’s”
“Two, Buffy”
“Three, one Bravo, one Charlie”
“Four, Alpha”
“Five, One Lima, One Alpha”
“Six, X-Ray, Repeat, X-Ray”
“Seven, Delta”
“Eight, one Alpha, one Bravo”
“MIST to follow”
“MIST Alpha”
“Mike, GSW”
“India, Head”
“Sierra, Stable, Un”
“Tango, MARCH”
“MIST Bravo”
“Mike, GSW”
“India, Chest”
“Sierra, Stable”
“Tango, None”
“How Copy?”
Kara scanned the sheet and replied. “Copy all, Repeat 6”
“Six currently November, anticipate X-Ray”
“Understood. Enroute, will contact for LZ instructions and clearance.”
“Step on it, I’m above my patch”
After it was clear the radio exchange was over, Alyson spared a glance over at Kara.
“Alright Kara, explain, I don’t have the 9-line memorized and you guys shorthand everything.”
Kara looked at her notes before she spoke.
“Ok, sounds like they are in John’s apartment with two casualties. Line three says one routine and one urgent casualty. Line five says they have one litter patient, one walking wounded. Six, the one I had her elaborate on was security. They currently have no enemies at hand, but they are expecting more. Between three, six, and eight, plus the MIST, sounds like Garen has a gunshot wound to the head and is stable but unconscious, and Angelique took rounds to the chest but is stable and ambulatory. Bekka has quite a bit of medical training, including EMT and a bunch of other specific skills, but you, I and Garen are the Paramedics. That’s what the ‘above her patch’ comment was about. This all kinds of not good.”
Allyson’s hands tightened on the wheel as she pushed the pedal down a bit more, her expression grim.
“We hit the ground, you work with Bekka for security, and I’ll dive into patient care first, unless we hear otherwise. Is that enough of a plan?”
“That works until we hear more.” Kara double and triple-checked her gear as they hurdled down the road.
Kiwibutterfly
Contributing Member
phew!!! that had me sitting on the edge of my seat - thanks for the great story.
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
Thank you. Sounds more critical than I expected you to throw at us.
sm,
Too early for CCG to start killing off the main characters....
There are bad guys yet to be eliminated....
Texican....
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
“I will not be too late, I will not be too late, I will not be too late, I will not be too late, I will not be too late.” Allyson didn’t realize she was talking out loud. Kara wasn’t sure what that was all about, but it kept going and she kept going faster. Finally, Kara felt she had to intervene.
“What’s with the ‘too late’ thing?”
“Sorry, I didn’t know that was out loud.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Sure, it is.”
“Bullshit, spill. What’s going on. We need to be focused so spit it out. I need to know what’s going on in your head.”
“Ok, I’ve been on a few Officer down calls. I’ve been on more than I should. If I was on duty anywhere, I would be sent. The hope was, being the medic, I might be able to save them. I’ve heard officers crying and screaming and cursing over the radio. Everything from ‘somebody get the son of a bitch’ to ‘oh God, don’t let me die’. One of the last ones I went on, she was crying about can’t die, can’t leave my kids. She heard me on the radio responding and the relief was sudden and she kept saying ‘thank God your coming, I’ll be fine’. She bled out before I could get there. I remember standing at the funeral across from the kids. The kids ended up in foster care. There was no family left to take them in. I was too late to save her. I can’t be too late again.”
“I tell you this. Bekka is doing lifeguard duty. She has stopped the leak and will keep the air going in and out. The damage has been done and we can only do what we can do. We help no one if you push too hard and wrap us around a bridge embankment. Keep your head in the game. With Garen hurt, Bekka will be unhinged enough. I don’t need two in that state. If Garen is gone by the time we get there, you focus on Angelique. I will try to help Bekka. But I don’t think it will go that far. Bekka said stable so we will trust her assessment. Put your head back into driving. We have to get there but in one piece.”
“Sorry, I’ll try and keep to the here and now. Another thing. If it gets too dark, and we need to switch to NVGs or headlights, depending on the call, we swap again. I don’t have enough practice for goggles at speed.”
“You know, if you get us there before dark, we can avoid that issue.”
“I’ll try.”
“What’s with the ‘too late’ thing?”
“Sorry, I didn’t know that was out loud.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Sure, it is.”
“Bullshit, spill. What’s going on. We need to be focused so spit it out. I need to know what’s going on in your head.”
“Ok, I’ve been on a few Officer down calls. I’ve been on more than I should. If I was on duty anywhere, I would be sent. The hope was, being the medic, I might be able to save them. I’ve heard officers crying and screaming and cursing over the radio. Everything from ‘somebody get the son of a bitch’ to ‘oh God, don’t let me die’. One of the last ones I went on, she was crying about can’t die, can’t leave my kids. She heard me on the radio responding and the relief was sudden and she kept saying ‘thank God your coming, I’ll be fine’. She bled out before I could get there. I remember standing at the funeral across from the kids. The kids ended up in foster care. There was no family left to take them in. I was too late to save her. I can’t be too late again.”
“I tell you this. Bekka is doing lifeguard duty. She has stopped the leak and will keep the air going in and out. The damage has been done and we can only do what we can do. We help no one if you push too hard and wrap us around a bridge embankment. Keep your head in the game. With Garen hurt, Bekka will be unhinged enough. I don’t need two in that state. If Garen is gone by the time we get there, you focus on Angelique. I will try to help Bekka. But I don’t think it will go that far. Bekka said stable so we will trust her assessment. Put your head back into driving. We have to get there but in one piece.”
“Sorry, I’ll try and keep to the here and now. Another thing. If it gets too dark, and we need to switch to NVGs or headlights, depending on the call, we swap again. I don’t have enough practice for goggles at speed.”
“You know, if you get us there before dark, we can avoid that issue.”
“I’ll try.”
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
The day had been going fairly well. After the SUV incident, we had found a small gas station that had been looted. Everything was either trashed or missing. We decided to take a chance and check the fuel tanks. They were still filled. Garen got his ‘pump in a can’ kit out and went to work filling all the empties we had with us, as well as the few gallons we had used out of the mains in the truck.
While this was going on, Angelique and I were standing guard. Before we got out of the truck, Garen told Angelique to look dangerous. Her reply was something like ‘gotcha, look Russian, Belyana on the job’. She was standing beside the truck, her hand resting on the pistol grip of the shorty shotgun. She had swiped an old set of mirrored shades from the truck and looked wholly in the part.
This took a while but it was one of the important things we were looking to do other than gear recovery at the Center. I made note of the location to potentially hit it again if we were close on our way back. Garen was happy we found one, especially with it being above what looked like the high water mark so it shouldn’t be contaminated with seawater. He had a float on his fuel hose as well so it wouldn’t suck up a bunch of the sediment and such from the bottom of the tanks we were pulling from.
All told, we didn’t have many detours until we got closer to the center. Around the high water debris mark, there were log jams of cars, boats and anything that would float pushed up in some of the roads. We were finally able to find a spot we could get through after we used the wench to move a car and a boat some to widen a trail.
Throughout it all, I kept Kara and Allyson up to date on the blocked roads and routes that worked as we went so if need be they could get here faster than we did. One of the more troubling aspects was the lack of many people. The city was still a city but there were very few people to be seen, and those you did, you only got glimpses of. There was also a marked lack of radio traffic. My scanner barely made a peep, and those were on the ‘family channels’ of the small point to point comms. The city, state and federal were all quiet.
We finally rolled up to the Center mid-afternoon. There are signs of high water but it has receded. It didn’t look like it got much above the first floor, maybe some on the second floor as far as sustained flooding. The initial walls of water were much higher I am sure, even just based on what I saw on day one. The important part of this is most of the stuff we were after was stored on the second and third floors so if they are there, they should be relatively intact if not dry. We hope.
Garen is able to get the ground floor door open so he can go in and raise the gates closing off the driveway up into the parking garage. Once I roll inside, he lowers them again. No reason to advertise anything has changed to the world. He hopped back in and we drove straight up to the third level. We figured it would be dry by now and there was some stuff Garen knew John kept in the connexes he had at the back of this level and in his apartment.
As we reached the third floor, I spotted two trucks parked there. The first one I recognized as John’s. The other one I didn’t know. Garen spun around when I mentioned it. He grinned and said ‘that’s Logan’s truck. Cool, the kid made it’.
We parked near the apartment door. Angelique and Garen got out of their side as I called in and shut things down in the truck. Just as I was stepping out, I noticed Angelique left the shotgun on the seat. Rather than put it back in the cradle above the visors, I just slung it over my shoulder. As I was getting closer to the door, I heard Garen talking with someone. I was almost in the doorway when I heard Angelique scream Garen’s name at banshee level at almost the same time I hear a single pistol shot followed by two more. By this time I had the shotgun up and burst through the door. The snapshot that is burned into my memory is seeing Garen crumpled to the floor, his head covered in blood, a puddle forming on the floor, Angelique on her back on the floor, and a mid-sized blond guy swinging a pistol back towards Garen.
I don’t actually remember the next actions. Angelique had to tell me. I evidently had already racked the charging handle on the shotgun. I brought it up and dumped the entire tube of shells into the man with the pistol at a range of about fifteen feet. I don’t even remember seeing the glowing green ball of the flare going at him.
The next thing I remember, I was feeling Garen’s head, his pulse and pulling out Combat Gauze. He had taken a round down one side of his skull, tearing a great big flap of skin loose, but fortunately his melon was intact. No holes or crepitus. I had to get a handle on the bleeding. Then I could go check on Angelique. Combat Gauze, battle dressing and an NPA. He is still breathing, but he is unconscious. I rolled him on his side into the recovery position and moved over to Angelique.
She was gasping on the ground. Thank god that boy was a good shot. He rushed his shots. He must have figured he didn’t have time for a head shot so he pumped two center of mass. This saved Angelique. To keep her in character, we couldn’t dress her in full combat gear. Instead, I put an old level three concealed vest on her like the cops wear. It also has a small pocket for a trauma plate insert. I also figured we needed to fill her out a bit. I had her put the chest protector I had for fencing on before and under the vest. This helped it keep the feminine form instead of flattening her chest out. A loose cotton shirt over all of that helped it disappear. She took the handgun rounds square on the trauma plate. It hurt like hell, will leave quite a bruise, but it much preferred to the alternative holes she would have had. I sat her up and slid her over to beside Garen and told her to keep an eye on him.
Shit! How many more in the building? Better get the guys headed my way. Worst idea ever is solo clearing a building looking for an unknown quantity of bad guys. I don’t know if I caught everything on Garen and Angelique. Not my specialty. Radio time.
“Flash Traffic! Units Spike and Dawn down. Fully Engaged. Broken Arrow, I repeat, Broken Arrow.”
I had to stop for a moment and gather my thoughts better. Reload the shotgun. 9-Line. Got to update the guys. A quick second check of my patients and then I grabbed a sharpie and started scrawling notes. With my rough notes done, I got back on the radio. I need them ready to start working medical the moment their feet hit the ground.
“9-Line MIST, Prepare to Copy.”
Kara’s voice came back over the radio.
“Prepared to copy, Go”
It’s good to hear her on the radio. I hate to admit it, but I really need the help. Shoot, more importantly, Garen needs help. I looked at my notes and continued.
“One, John’s”
“Two, Buffy”
“Three, one Bravo, one Charlie”
“Four, Alpha”
“Five, One Lima, One Alpha”
“Six, X-Ray, Repeat, X-Ray”
“Seven, Delta”
“Eight, one Alpha, one Bravo”
“MIST to follow”
“MIST Alpha”
“Mike, GSW”
“India, Head”
“Sierra, Stable, Un”
“Tango, MARCH”
“MIST Bravo”
“Mike, GSW”
“India, Chest”
“Sierra, Stable”
“Tango, None”
“How Copy?”
Kara’ voice, full of concern, came back over the radio. “Copy all, Repeat 6”
Shit! She was worried about having to come in shooting. I better be a bit more precise.
“Six, currently November, anticipate X-Ray”
“Understood. Enroute, will contact for LZ instructions and clearance.”
I need those two here. I need bigger medical minds brought to bear, higher skill levels, and more abilities. “Step on it, I’m above my patch”
While this was going on, Angelique and I were standing guard. Before we got out of the truck, Garen told Angelique to look dangerous. Her reply was something like ‘gotcha, look Russian, Belyana on the job’. She was standing beside the truck, her hand resting on the pistol grip of the shorty shotgun. She had swiped an old set of mirrored shades from the truck and looked wholly in the part.
This took a while but it was one of the important things we were looking to do other than gear recovery at the Center. I made note of the location to potentially hit it again if we were close on our way back. Garen was happy we found one, especially with it being above what looked like the high water mark so it shouldn’t be contaminated with seawater. He had a float on his fuel hose as well so it wouldn’t suck up a bunch of the sediment and such from the bottom of the tanks we were pulling from.
All told, we didn’t have many detours until we got closer to the center. Around the high water debris mark, there were log jams of cars, boats and anything that would float pushed up in some of the roads. We were finally able to find a spot we could get through after we used the wench to move a car and a boat some to widen a trail.
Throughout it all, I kept Kara and Allyson up to date on the blocked roads and routes that worked as we went so if need be they could get here faster than we did. One of the more troubling aspects was the lack of many people. The city was still a city but there were very few people to be seen, and those you did, you only got glimpses of. There was also a marked lack of radio traffic. My scanner barely made a peep, and those were on the ‘family channels’ of the small point to point comms. The city, state and federal were all quiet.
We finally rolled up to the Center mid-afternoon. There are signs of high water but it has receded. It didn’t look like it got much above the first floor, maybe some on the second floor as far as sustained flooding. The initial walls of water were much higher I am sure, even just based on what I saw on day one. The important part of this is most of the stuff we were after was stored on the second and third floors so if they are there, they should be relatively intact if not dry. We hope.
Garen is able to get the ground floor door open so he can go in and raise the gates closing off the driveway up into the parking garage. Once I roll inside, he lowers them again. No reason to advertise anything has changed to the world. He hopped back in and we drove straight up to the third level. We figured it would be dry by now and there was some stuff Garen knew John kept in the connexes he had at the back of this level and in his apartment.
As we reached the third floor, I spotted two trucks parked there. The first one I recognized as John’s. The other one I didn’t know. Garen spun around when I mentioned it. He grinned and said ‘that’s Logan’s truck. Cool, the kid made it’.
We parked near the apartment door. Angelique and Garen got out of their side as I called in and shut things down in the truck. Just as I was stepping out, I noticed Angelique left the shotgun on the seat. Rather than put it back in the cradle above the visors, I just slung it over my shoulder. As I was getting closer to the door, I heard Garen talking with someone. I was almost in the doorway when I heard Angelique scream Garen’s name at banshee level at almost the same time I hear a single pistol shot followed by two more. By this time I had the shotgun up and burst through the door. The snapshot that is burned into my memory is seeing Garen crumpled to the floor, his head covered in blood, a puddle forming on the floor, Angelique on her back on the floor, and a mid-sized blond guy swinging a pistol back towards Garen.
I don’t actually remember the next actions. Angelique had to tell me. I evidently had already racked the charging handle on the shotgun. I brought it up and dumped the entire tube of shells into the man with the pistol at a range of about fifteen feet. I don’t even remember seeing the glowing green ball of the flare going at him.
The next thing I remember, I was feeling Garen’s head, his pulse and pulling out Combat Gauze. He had taken a round down one side of his skull, tearing a great big flap of skin loose, but fortunately his melon was intact. No holes or crepitus. I had to get a handle on the bleeding. Then I could go check on Angelique. Combat Gauze, battle dressing and an NPA. He is still breathing, but he is unconscious. I rolled him on his side into the recovery position and moved over to Angelique.
She was gasping on the ground. Thank god that boy was a good shot. He rushed his shots. He must have figured he didn’t have time for a head shot so he pumped two center of mass. This saved Angelique. To keep her in character, we couldn’t dress her in full combat gear. Instead, I put an old level three concealed vest on her like the cops wear. It also has a small pocket for a trauma plate insert. I also figured we needed to fill her out a bit. I had her put the chest protector I had for fencing on before and under the vest. This helped it keep the feminine form instead of flattening her chest out. A loose cotton shirt over all of that helped it disappear. She took the handgun rounds square on the trauma plate. It hurt like hell, will leave quite a bruise, but it much preferred to the alternative holes she would have had. I sat her up and slid her over to beside Garen and told her to keep an eye on him.
Shit! How many more in the building? Better get the guys headed my way. Worst idea ever is solo clearing a building looking for an unknown quantity of bad guys. I don’t know if I caught everything on Garen and Angelique. Not my specialty. Radio time.
“Flash Traffic! Units Spike and Dawn down. Fully Engaged. Broken Arrow, I repeat, Broken Arrow.”
I had to stop for a moment and gather my thoughts better. Reload the shotgun. 9-Line. Got to update the guys. A quick second check of my patients and then I grabbed a sharpie and started scrawling notes. With my rough notes done, I got back on the radio. I need them ready to start working medical the moment their feet hit the ground.
“9-Line MIST, Prepare to Copy.”
Kara’s voice came back over the radio.
“Prepared to copy, Go”
It’s good to hear her on the radio. I hate to admit it, but I really need the help. Shoot, more importantly, Garen needs help. I looked at my notes and continued.
“One, John’s”
“Two, Buffy”
“Three, one Bravo, one Charlie”
“Four, Alpha”
“Five, One Lima, One Alpha”
“Six, X-Ray, Repeat, X-Ray”
“Seven, Delta”
“Eight, one Alpha, one Bravo”
“MIST to follow”
“MIST Alpha”
“Mike, GSW”
“India, Head”
“Sierra, Stable, Un”
“Tango, MARCH”
“MIST Bravo”
“Mike, GSW”
“India, Chest”
“Sierra, Stable”
“Tango, None”
“How Copy?”
Kara’ voice, full of concern, came back over the radio. “Copy all, Repeat 6”
Shit! She was worried about having to come in shooting. I better be a bit more precise.
“Six, currently November, anticipate X-Ray”
“Understood. Enroute, will contact for LZ instructions and clearance.”
I need those two here. I need bigger medical minds brought to bear, higher skill levels, and more abilities. “Step on it, I’m above my patch”
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
For highly trained individuals, they made two critical mistakes.....
Mistake 1....
Let your guard down because you are in friendly terriortory can be terminal....
Hopefully, the victims will survive to fight again....
Mistake 2....
I sat Angelique up and slid her over to beside Garen and told her to keep an eye on him.
Angelique told to watch Garen and from all appearances Angelique is not armed.... So only one armed and an unknown
number of adversaries coming to the party....
Texican....
Mistake 1....
Let your guard down because you are in friendly terriortory can be terminal....
Hopefully, the victims will survive to fight again....
Mistake 2....
I sat Angelique up and slid her over to beside Garen and told her to keep an eye on him.
Angelique told to watch Garen and from all appearances Angelique is not armed.... So only one armed and an unknown
number of adversaries coming to the party....
Texican....
Lone_Hawk
Resident Spook
Angelique is armed, just didn't have the shotgun....
thank you for the new chapters...MOAR!!
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Angelique was still trying to catch up to the events of the last half an hour. They had gotten to the center without much issue other than the one SUV chasing them. Garen was able to get the gate open. They had gone up to the third floor, no problem there. Garen led the way into the apartment. When they went in, this blond guy was there but Garen knew him, called him by name and said something about how glad he was that Logan, that was the name, had survived. Something seemed a bit off to her, but she introduced herself, as LT Bronislava. This caused some eyebrows to go up on Garen, but he went with it. Garen and Logan started talking, Garen outlining that he was there to check on things and retrieve a bunch of gear. While this was going on, Garen started looking around. So, did she. Some stuff looked awful out of place. There were some piles of jewelry on a dresser, as well as at least a dozen watches. There were also several stacks of cash. A small pile of liquor bottles was on the floor next to the bed. The place seemed unkempt and just ‘off’. Garen started towards the dresser.
She saw Logan draw his pistol and point it towards Garen. Before it was half way up, she let out the loudest scream she could to warn Garen as she tried to draw her pistol. Garen started to turn and duck as Logan fired. She saw the spray of blood from Garen’s head as Logan wheeled towards her. Her pistol was coming up onto target as Logan whipped two shots into her. She felt the impact slam into her chest. Her breath was gone, she couldn’t take another. It wasn’t like the movies, though. She wasn’t blasted backwards, thrown a dozen feet. Instead, her body seemed to fold forwards with the impact. The floor was coming up at her before she even realized she was shot. She was on her side, then her back. She saw Logan turn towards Garen to make sure of his work when the loudest thunderstorm she had ever heard seemed to detonate inside the room.
Bekka had stormed in, the shotgun roaring continuously. She saw the impact of the rounds on Logan. He seemed to be a marionette having a seizure, twitching and jerking before collapsing. She watched Bekka continue forward, pushing the shotgun behind her on it’s sling. Bekka drew her pistol and fired a round into Logan’s head as she passed him.
Angelique watched Bekka go to her knees and started working on Garen. The fact she was working on his wound gave Angelique hope for him. Meanwhile, she was struggling to breath. By the time Bekka came over to her, she had managed to take a breath or two. This is where the pain really started to show up.
She was too deaf from the shotgun to make out what Bekka was saying on the radio, and she was a bit out of it when Bekka was talking with her. She did realize that she would probably be ok when Bekka dragged her over next to Garen and told her to keep an eye on him. She also handed her the reloaded shotgun. She seemed to finish on the radio and looked her in the eyes. In spite of the ringing in her ears, when coupled with reading Bekka’s lips, she could understand what she told her next, even though it didn’t make sense.
Bekka looked her in the eyes and said “You watch him, Kara and Allyson are coming. I’m getting ready to go do something stupid for our safety. You have the shotgun. If anyone other than me, Kara or Allyson comes through that door, unload it into them. I have to go check the rest of the building. I’ll get my sub gun from the truck. If you hear real loud gunshots, there are more of them. DO NOT LEAVE this room. I know where you are and if you go wandering around, it might end badly.” Bekka seemed to hesitate for a moment, then with tears in her eyes, leaned forward, grabbed the back of Angelique’s head, pulled her into a deep meaningful kiss for a second or two, then released a surprised Angelique. “If I don’t make it, give that to Garen for me.” She then rapidly strode across the room, pulling the door closed as she left.
She saw Logan draw his pistol and point it towards Garen. Before it was half way up, she let out the loudest scream she could to warn Garen as she tried to draw her pistol. Garen started to turn and duck as Logan fired. She saw the spray of blood from Garen’s head as Logan wheeled towards her. Her pistol was coming up onto target as Logan whipped two shots into her. She felt the impact slam into her chest. Her breath was gone, she couldn’t take another. It wasn’t like the movies, though. She wasn’t blasted backwards, thrown a dozen feet. Instead, her body seemed to fold forwards with the impact. The floor was coming up at her before she even realized she was shot. She was on her side, then her back. She saw Logan turn towards Garen to make sure of his work when the loudest thunderstorm she had ever heard seemed to detonate inside the room.
Bekka had stormed in, the shotgun roaring continuously. She saw the impact of the rounds on Logan. He seemed to be a marionette having a seizure, twitching and jerking before collapsing. She watched Bekka continue forward, pushing the shotgun behind her on it’s sling. Bekka drew her pistol and fired a round into Logan’s head as she passed him.
Angelique watched Bekka go to her knees and started working on Garen. The fact she was working on his wound gave Angelique hope for him. Meanwhile, she was struggling to breath. By the time Bekka came over to her, she had managed to take a breath or two. This is where the pain really started to show up.
She was too deaf from the shotgun to make out what Bekka was saying on the radio, and she was a bit out of it when Bekka was talking with her. She did realize that she would probably be ok when Bekka dragged her over next to Garen and told her to keep an eye on him. She also handed her the reloaded shotgun. She seemed to finish on the radio and looked her in the eyes. In spite of the ringing in her ears, when coupled with reading Bekka’s lips, she could understand what she told her next, even though it didn’t make sense.
Bekka looked her in the eyes and said “You watch him, Kara and Allyson are coming. I’m getting ready to go do something stupid for our safety. You have the shotgun. If anyone other than me, Kara or Allyson comes through that door, unload it into them. I have to go check the rest of the building. I’ll get my sub gun from the truck. If you hear real loud gunshots, there are more of them. DO NOT LEAVE this room. I know where you are and if you go wandering around, it might end badly.” Bekka seemed to hesitate for a moment, then with tears in her eyes, leaned forward, grabbed the back of Angelique’s head, pulled her into a deep meaningful kiss for a second or two, then released a surprised Angelique. “If I don’t make it, give that to Garen for me.” She then rapidly strode across the room, pulling the door closed as she left.
Kiwibutterfly
Contributing Member
Oh boy...great reading - thanks
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
Bekka seemed to hesitate for a moment, then with tears in her eyes, leaned forward, grabbed the back of Angelique’s head, pulled her into a deep meaningful kiss for a second or two, then released a surprised Angelique. “If I don’t make it, give that to Garen for me.” She then rapidly strode across the room, pulling the door closed as she left.
Bekka's going hunting, but left a kiss for Garen with Angelique....
Thanks CCG for the chapter....
Texican....
Bekka's going hunting, but left a kiss for Garen with Angelique....
Thanks CCG for the chapter....
Texican....
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
As they got into the city proper, Allyson had to slow down some. Between the road configuration and the rubble and trash, Allyson was working hard to keep sixty or so. Kara guided her to a position where they had a view of the Center. Everything looked intact. Kara called for Bekka on the radio. After the third call, Bekka’s voice came through weak and scratchy.
“Faith, Line six, November. Give me a two call so I can set up the arrester gear. Cleared for straight in approach.”
Kara could hear the stress and fatigue in her voice. She knew Garen being hurt had a huge part of it, but there seemed to be more. The sooner they got in and could help, the better off they should be.
Allyson got them back underway. Kara was able to gauge their rate of progress and call in their eminent arrival. As they hit the ramp into the structure, the gate started back down. They moved up to the third floor and pulled in between Garen’s truck and the door to John’s apartment. Kara bailed out of the Subaru with full battle gear, ready for about anything. Meanwhile, Allyson was yanking med bags out and went into the apartment. The sights that greeted her were both better and worse than she was expecting.
Garen was on the floor, his head and shoulders propped up some with a pile of pillows. His head was wrapped in a battle dressing, a nasopharyngeal airway buried in his nose. An IV line was leading from the bag of fluid to his arm. He didn’t appear conscious. Next to him was Angelique, leaning on Garen’s med ruck, her hand resting on the stubby shotgun in her lap. A few feet away, a blood-soaked sheet lay over a body. The room smelled of blood and cordite. Angelique seemed to relax at her arrival. She moved slowly and stiffly out of the way to let Allyson get to work.
Out by the Subaru, Kara watches Bekka emerge from the stairwell. She was moving slow and deliberate. Kara was reminded of some of the other times she had looked like that, they weren’t good times.
“Ok, Bekka, what the ****?”
“Logan”
“What about Logan?”
“He was evidently looting and using here as a base. We got here and he must have figured we were going to screw up his thing. I wasn’t in there when it first went down, but from what Angelique says, as soon as Garen turned his back, Logan tried to shoot him in the head. Garen dodged when she screamed. Logan then shot her in the chest. Thank God I put the vest on her. It stopped the rounds, but gave her a hell of a punch. That’s about when I got inside. I stopped him with the shotgun.” She seemed to slump in the telling. Kara stepped closer and held her for a moment. She seemed to gather some of Kara’s manic energy. Kara was fully overcharged, anticipating having to fight her way to her friends, and it had not needed to happen. She willed some of this energy to go to Bekka. Whether this really works or not Bekka seemed to regain some of her vitality and pushed back and stood up.
“Bekka, what about the rest of the Center?”
“It’s empty, I cleared it”
“You WHAT?”
“I cleared it. It…”
“You IDIOT! Every class, every training event we went to, solo clearing a structure was somewhere between ridiculous and suicidal! What the hell were you thinking?” Kara was almost shouting now.
Kara was surprised by Bekka’s response, both what she said but also how she said it.
“What was I thinking? I was thinking I had to get the gate open for you guys. I couldn’t open it by staying in the apartment. I had to go downstairs. If I just went down and opened it right after the shoot, then we would be opened up to anyone, both inside and outside. To keep it closed until you got here, I had to make sure we were safe. I had to get you guys in. Garen needs you guys medically. Whether I could get killed or not, that wasn’t the issue. I had to make it where you could get here, you’re the shot at saving him. That’s more important than saving myself.” She didn’t shout back at Kara. Instead, her voice was flat and quiet. This worried Kara immensely. She had heard that kind of tone before. Not from Bekka, but from herself. In that moment of clarity, she knew beyond a shadow of doubt that Bekka felt she was probably going to die when she went to clear the building. That absolute knowledge and acceptance of death is unsettling. It takes time to come to terms with it.
“Ok, so we are here now. Allyson is in checking out Garen. What’s next?”
“Let’s check and see if Allyson needs help, then we can begin gathering all the crap Garen wanted us to get. He told me some of the things, but unless he told you more, my idea is to strip as much as we can that might be usable, minus a small fallback stockpile. Depending on how much, we can load both vehicles now that you are here.”
“Shoot, if we have more, then we could take John’s or Logan’s truck as well.”
“The problem with that is it splits us all up in different vehicles. We will have to look and plot once we see the size of stuff we have. I would like to get the lot of us headed back to the house by sunrise. Let’s go check on Garen.”
“Faith, Line six, November. Give me a two call so I can set up the arrester gear. Cleared for straight in approach.”
Kara could hear the stress and fatigue in her voice. She knew Garen being hurt had a huge part of it, but there seemed to be more. The sooner they got in and could help, the better off they should be.
Allyson got them back underway. Kara was able to gauge their rate of progress and call in their eminent arrival. As they hit the ramp into the structure, the gate started back down. They moved up to the third floor and pulled in between Garen’s truck and the door to John’s apartment. Kara bailed out of the Subaru with full battle gear, ready for about anything. Meanwhile, Allyson was yanking med bags out and went into the apartment. The sights that greeted her were both better and worse than she was expecting.
Garen was on the floor, his head and shoulders propped up some with a pile of pillows. His head was wrapped in a battle dressing, a nasopharyngeal airway buried in his nose. An IV line was leading from the bag of fluid to his arm. He didn’t appear conscious. Next to him was Angelique, leaning on Garen’s med ruck, her hand resting on the stubby shotgun in her lap. A few feet away, a blood-soaked sheet lay over a body. The room smelled of blood and cordite. Angelique seemed to relax at her arrival. She moved slowly and stiffly out of the way to let Allyson get to work.
Out by the Subaru, Kara watches Bekka emerge from the stairwell. She was moving slow and deliberate. Kara was reminded of some of the other times she had looked like that, they weren’t good times.
“Ok, Bekka, what the ****?”
“Logan”
“What about Logan?”
“He was evidently looting and using here as a base. We got here and he must have figured we were going to screw up his thing. I wasn’t in there when it first went down, but from what Angelique says, as soon as Garen turned his back, Logan tried to shoot him in the head. Garen dodged when she screamed. Logan then shot her in the chest. Thank God I put the vest on her. It stopped the rounds, but gave her a hell of a punch. That’s about when I got inside. I stopped him with the shotgun.” She seemed to slump in the telling. Kara stepped closer and held her for a moment. She seemed to gather some of Kara’s manic energy. Kara was fully overcharged, anticipating having to fight her way to her friends, and it had not needed to happen. She willed some of this energy to go to Bekka. Whether this really works or not Bekka seemed to regain some of her vitality and pushed back and stood up.
“Bekka, what about the rest of the Center?”
“It’s empty, I cleared it”
“You WHAT?”
“I cleared it. It…”
“You IDIOT! Every class, every training event we went to, solo clearing a structure was somewhere between ridiculous and suicidal! What the hell were you thinking?” Kara was almost shouting now.
Kara was surprised by Bekka’s response, both what she said but also how she said it.
“What was I thinking? I was thinking I had to get the gate open for you guys. I couldn’t open it by staying in the apartment. I had to go downstairs. If I just went down and opened it right after the shoot, then we would be opened up to anyone, both inside and outside. To keep it closed until you got here, I had to make sure we were safe. I had to get you guys in. Garen needs you guys medically. Whether I could get killed or not, that wasn’t the issue. I had to make it where you could get here, you’re the shot at saving him. That’s more important than saving myself.” She didn’t shout back at Kara. Instead, her voice was flat and quiet. This worried Kara immensely. She had heard that kind of tone before. Not from Bekka, but from herself. In that moment of clarity, she knew beyond a shadow of doubt that Bekka felt she was probably going to die when she went to clear the building. That absolute knowledge and acceptance of death is unsettling. It takes time to come to terms with it.
“Ok, so we are here now. Allyson is in checking out Garen. What’s next?”
“Let’s check and see if Allyson needs help, then we can begin gathering all the crap Garen wanted us to get. He told me some of the things, but unless he told you more, my idea is to strip as much as we can that might be usable, minus a small fallback stockpile. Depending on how much, we can load both vehicles now that you are here.”
“Shoot, if we have more, then we could take John’s or Logan’s truck as well.”
“The problem with that is it splits us all up in different vehicles. We will have to look and plot once we see the size of stuff we have. I would like to get the lot of us headed back to the house by sunrise. Let’s go check on Garen.”
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
When Bekka and Kara walked into the apartment, Allyson was working to clean Garen’s head wound. It was bleeding again since she had removed the gauze and bandage. Angelique was squirting saline from a very large syringe into the wound where Allyson was directing her. Allyson had next to her a trauma stapler kit and her suture kit. She looked up as Kara and Bekka came in.
“He has a good gouge, but pupils are good, breathing is good, you got fluids on board right away, plus the antibiotics, so the outcome looks good. I’ve got some pain meds in him now so he won’t flinch as I do the staple job. Where are we at with everything else?”
Kara was the first to speak. “All secure for the moment. Let me trade you Bekka for Angelique so I can check her out, then we can start collecting as much stuff as we can. We need to get pulled and packed by dawn.”
Bekka took over with the syringe, one hand squeezing the syringe, the other squeezing Garen’s hand. Having Bekka help her made Allyson a bit more nervous, but she was also focused on her patient.
Kara helped Angelique over to the bed. Once she was sitting there, Kara went into Medic mode.
“Alright, Lt, time for me to see the handiwork. Off with your top.”
When Angelique had a hard time moving to get her shirt off, Kara helped her pull the sleeves and then the vest. Under the vest, the plastic fencing armor was cracked and fractured. The only thing keeping the sharp plastic from poking Angelique was the layer of moleskin foam lining the back of the chestpiece. Beneath the plastic armor, a serious bruise had already begun to form over her sternum and ribs.
Kara reached into her med bag and pulled out a spare plastic tourniquet windlass.
“Here, bit on this. I have to feel where the bullets hit to check the bone and also to make sure there isn’t any subcutaneous emphysema. This will hurt, I’m sure.” She handed Angelique the windless, who hesitantly tucked it into the back part of her mouth across the molars like a horse’s bit, braced herself as if expecting a blow, and nodded.
The touch of Kara’s hands surprised her, not with a sense of stabbing pain and roughness, but in the almost feather-lite tenderness. There was still a pressure to her touch as she glided her hands across Angelique’s rib cage and sternum. Almost the entire time Kara was palpating her chest, she was staring at her face, not her chest. Kara’s eyes fascinated Angelique. They were a weird shade of grey, kinda like concrete. They seemed to lock on to hers but still able to see everything her hands were doing. It was like when she would watch the owls at the zoo. Even when they were staring right at you, you knew they were also watching every other thing around them, missing nothing. She also knew they would also show the same fierce intensity when the right situation arose.
Little did Angelique know that the look Kara was giving was more than just professional bedside manner. Angelique’s jet-black hair and hazel eyes, along with her Eastern European build reminded her so much of Talia. For a few moments, she wasn’t sure who she was working on or where they were at.
Most people have the notion, thanks to Hollywood, that flashbacks are like being thrown out of reality into some other completely different one, like changing the channel on a tv. It doesn’t work like that in the real world. Flashbacks are more frequently like a partial substitution, sometimes known, other times it happens at the unconscious level. One of the most common and most powerful triggers is the sense of smell. This in turn can either trigger or augment a returning memory. The blatant ones are easier for most to fight. Blood and burned flesh and fuel is such an obvious one that many can fight it, since it hits the senses so predictably. The ones that creep up on people are the ones that take an element or two to connect the dots, the ones the brain keeps saying ‘hey, I know what that is, what is it?’ For some people, it can be sights that they catch out of the corner of their eye, or when they are tired and not as focused. This was the case for Kara this time. Her brain was caught in a logic loop trying to remember where she had seen those eyes before. She kept trying to figure it out. When she did, it made her sad. She was seeing the eyes of a dead woman who was her friend in the face of a young girl headed down the road to war.
Kara’s eyes seemed to snap back into focus as she reached over to her bag and pulled out a skin marker.
“Ok, you should be fine. You will hurt for a week or two, but you should live. I need to draw some instructions on you, though.” At this Angelique looked shocked. Kara continued. “I need to write a note in case one of the other medics worked on you.” At this, she leaned forward and on the upper part of Angelique’s chest wrote “No IO’ in big bold letters.
“This is just in case there is a crack in your sternum. We wouldn’t want to drown you with the fluid we might be giving you to try and save you.”
Kara pulled the trauma plate out of the soft armor and checked it. It had stopped both 10mm rounds. This meant the soft armor underneath was unscathed and would still provide some protection. They hoped to fide some more armor choices for her here at the Center. She gave Angelique some Mobic for the muscle pain and soreness and told her to get dressed while she figured out where to begin looting the Center for supplies for the upcoming campaign against the villains in the woods.
“He has a good gouge, but pupils are good, breathing is good, you got fluids on board right away, plus the antibiotics, so the outcome looks good. I’ve got some pain meds in him now so he won’t flinch as I do the staple job. Where are we at with everything else?”
Kara was the first to speak. “All secure for the moment. Let me trade you Bekka for Angelique so I can check her out, then we can start collecting as much stuff as we can. We need to get pulled and packed by dawn.”
Bekka took over with the syringe, one hand squeezing the syringe, the other squeezing Garen’s hand. Having Bekka help her made Allyson a bit more nervous, but she was also focused on her patient.
Kara helped Angelique over to the bed. Once she was sitting there, Kara went into Medic mode.
“Alright, Lt, time for me to see the handiwork. Off with your top.”
When Angelique had a hard time moving to get her shirt off, Kara helped her pull the sleeves and then the vest. Under the vest, the plastic fencing armor was cracked and fractured. The only thing keeping the sharp plastic from poking Angelique was the layer of moleskin foam lining the back of the chestpiece. Beneath the plastic armor, a serious bruise had already begun to form over her sternum and ribs.
Kara reached into her med bag and pulled out a spare plastic tourniquet windlass.
“Here, bit on this. I have to feel where the bullets hit to check the bone and also to make sure there isn’t any subcutaneous emphysema. This will hurt, I’m sure.” She handed Angelique the windless, who hesitantly tucked it into the back part of her mouth across the molars like a horse’s bit, braced herself as if expecting a blow, and nodded.
The touch of Kara’s hands surprised her, not with a sense of stabbing pain and roughness, but in the almost feather-lite tenderness. There was still a pressure to her touch as she glided her hands across Angelique’s rib cage and sternum. Almost the entire time Kara was palpating her chest, she was staring at her face, not her chest. Kara’s eyes fascinated Angelique. They were a weird shade of grey, kinda like concrete. They seemed to lock on to hers but still able to see everything her hands were doing. It was like when she would watch the owls at the zoo. Even when they were staring right at you, you knew they were also watching every other thing around them, missing nothing. She also knew they would also show the same fierce intensity when the right situation arose.
Little did Angelique know that the look Kara was giving was more than just professional bedside manner. Angelique’s jet-black hair and hazel eyes, along with her Eastern European build reminded her so much of Talia. For a few moments, she wasn’t sure who she was working on or where they were at.
Most people have the notion, thanks to Hollywood, that flashbacks are like being thrown out of reality into some other completely different one, like changing the channel on a tv. It doesn’t work like that in the real world. Flashbacks are more frequently like a partial substitution, sometimes known, other times it happens at the unconscious level. One of the most common and most powerful triggers is the sense of smell. This in turn can either trigger or augment a returning memory. The blatant ones are easier for most to fight. Blood and burned flesh and fuel is such an obvious one that many can fight it, since it hits the senses so predictably. The ones that creep up on people are the ones that take an element or two to connect the dots, the ones the brain keeps saying ‘hey, I know what that is, what is it?’ For some people, it can be sights that they catch out of the corner of their eye, or when they are tired and not as focused. This was the case for Kara this time. Her brain was caught in a logic loop trying to remember where she had seen those eyes before. She kept trying to figure it out. When she did, it made her sad. She was seeing the eyes of a dead woman who was her friend in the face of a young girl headed down the road to war.
Kara’s eyes seemed to snap back into focus as she reached over to her bag and pulled out a skin marker.
“Ok, you should be fine. You will hurt for a week or two, but you should live. I need to draw some instructions on you, though.” At this Angelique looked shocked. Kara continued. “I need to write a note in case one of the other medics worked on you.” At this, she leaned forward and on the upper part of Angelique’s chest wrote “No IO’ in big bold letters.
“This is just in case there is a crack in your sternum. We wouldn’t want to drown you with the fluid we might be giving you to try and save you.”
Kara pulled the trauma plate out of the soft armor and checked it. It had stopped both 10mm rounds. This meant the soft armor underneath was unscathed and would still provide some protection. They hoped to fide some more armor choices for her here at the Center. She gave Angelique some Mobic for the muscle pain and soreness and told her to get dressed while she figured out where to begin looting the Center for supplies for the upcoming campaign against the villains in the woods.