Freedom of Love (Letter From Home #2)(14)
Pulling a large chocolate chip cookie out and sampling it myself, I had to agree. It was absolutely f*cking good.
He looked over to the book on my lap and smirked. “You still writing to your little librarian?”
Not falling into his banter, I eyed him while flipping him off.
“Methinks you doth protest too much!” he cackled.
Giving in to the urge to chuckle, I replied, “Hell, I didn’t know you could quote the classics! Do you even know where that quote came from?”
“Hell, no,” he admitted, still laughing. “But I don’t see why you don’t just admit you’ve got a serious hard-on for the librarian!”
“Not gonna dignify that comment that with an answer.”
Sobering, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and faced me, his gaze pinning mine. “You know, Brody…you get out in a few months. There’s no reason not to consider looking her up in person. Hell, man, of any of us here, you deserve someone.”
Nodding my appreciation, I rubbed my chin as I pondered his words. “I don’t know. I mean it’s nice emailing and talking about books, but what if that’s all. What the hell do I have to offer?”
“Seriously? Jesus, you’re a medic who saves lives. I’d think she’d consider herself lucky.”
“Okay, then, what if I meet her and there’s nothing there. That I find out the only thing we have in common is enjoying the same books?”
“So what?” Todd countered. “Lots of relationships start off with less in common than that.”
“So when did you become the relationship guru?” I shot back, my grin now plastered across my face.
This time he flipped me off as he lay back, stuffing in another cookie. “Hey, my advice is free,” he quipped. “Take it or leave it.”
As I sat on my bed, the open book still in my lap, I thought about his words.
Fuckin’ hell!! The helicopter couldn’t land because of the mountainous terrain so we needed to drop our chief medic down in a hoist. I was on duty with Todd and that meant he had to go. An Apache bird flew in to secure the area since enemy fire was still taking place. I leaned out of the open door, holding fast to an overhead bar as I watched him lowered to the ground soldiers waiting below.
As Todd made it down, I informed the pilots of his whereabouts considering they were unable to see from the side of the aircraft. I watched as they secured the injured soldier, and we hoisted him into the bird and then reset for Todd.
Pulling my chief medic up, I felt the bird tremor as the winds whipped around us. As soon as he was secure in the hoist, I gave the signal for the pilot to get us out of there. I observed the two Apaches swooping in, laying more fire power below.
Fuck! I called it too soon! Shouting out the call for the pilots to wait, I worked on getting Todd up but he was now dangling at an odd angle. He must be unconscious.
The Apaches came in once more, giving us a chance to get airborne without getting shot at again.
Needing to check on Todd as well as the patient, I made another snap decision. Todd had regained consciousness once inside the helicopter and appeared lucid, so I moved to the patient. Immediately stepping to the soldier, I fought to find a place for an IV, but his arms and hands had burns. Running out of time, I got one started in his leg, but as the bird banked a sharp turn, the IV pulled out and I lost my balance, landing on my ass. “Goddammit!” I cursed, leaping up and repeating the action to get the IV into a vein, then taping it before it could come out again.
I worked methodically, but the soldier’s pulse was fading. I looked down at his head injury and, for an instant, I thought about the extent of damage then shook my head, clearing those thoughts. Stay in the moment. That’s what we constantly told ourselves. We can’t dictate what happens once the patient leaves our care, but for the twenty-minute ride…we can control this time.
The pilot landed smoothly back at the base now that we were out of the high winds and as soon as the door opened, I welcomed the hospital staff that took over. For the first time, I had a chance to check on my chief medic. “Todd? How bad is it?”
The explosion had sent some shrapnel into his leg. As we cut his pants off it became clear the injuries were deep. Damn, he could have severed an artery and I didn’t check.
“Shit man, you should have told me you were this bad,” I cursed as I called for another stretcher.
“You had your hands full,” he replied, grimacing as we put pressure to stop the bleeding.
Patching him up, another stretcher came out to get him. “I’m f*ckin’ walkin’ in,” he complained, until an officer ordered him on the stretcher. With a wave, I watched as he flipped me off, laughing.
I sat on the bird for a long time, my mind churning over the events of the past half hour. Did I make the right calls? What could I have done differently? We would need to reschedule our shifts with Todd out of the rotation until healed. Bone weary as the adrenaline faded from my system, I began to restock our supplies.
I ditched my blood soaked boots and uniform when I arrived back at the command center, grabbing an extra ACU I kept there. Hitting the showers at the center, I soon felt clean, but thoughts of my decision pounded through my head. I f*cked up—I did not thoroughly check my medic…friend…and he could have bled to death. The image of the other soldier who might not make it through the night—and if he did, what kind of brain damage he would be left with—had me hating my job at the moment.