Page 42
Story: Red Line
The effects of blast injuries weren’t always immediate.
Primary blast injuries, beyond blast ear, could mean the barotrauma affected her brain, eyes, lungs, or gastrointestinal tract.
Perforations, hemorrhage, and even a rupture of the globe of the eyes were possible.
As he cleaned her face, Nomad discovered that, thankfully, the blood wasn’t coming from her ear canal but was a superficial cut. Luckily, that ear hadn’t pressed into the pillowcase, so the scab was unaffected when Nomad turned her onto her back.
Red had sweated and thrashed enough that the plaster dust had formed a paste, and that paste had dried. He was afraid to pick it off lest he scratch her skin. He had no idea what kinds of microbes were involved here, and she obviously didn’t need anything more in her system to fight off. Oddly, her belt was unbuckled, her zipper unzipped, but she was buttoned at the top of her pants. In Nomad’s experience, women unbutton before unzipping when getting undressed.
Did this scene make sense?
Havoc was gathering her belongings and shoving them into a suitcase.
T-Rex was on the phone getting in touch with Command and apprising them of the situation.
“Ma’am,” Nomad rested his hand on her shoulder. “May I have permission to cut you out of your clothes to ensure you have no hidden bleeds?”
She gave him the slightest of nods. But he appreciated the go-ahead. Even if this was a medical emergency, Nomad didn’t ever want to touch a woman in a way that didn’t have her knowledge and permission.
Using his trauma sheers, Nomad got her outer clothes removed and performed the usual assessments.
“I have Colonel Watts on the line. What have you got, Nomad?” T-Rex asked. “I’m putting you on speaker.”
Nomad lifted his voice. “Sir, there are no open wounds. She has heavy bruising on either side of her body. No signs of serious crush injuries. No palpable broken bones. She’s feverish, only semi-conscious. She’s murmuring unintelligibly.”
“She can’t go to the hospital then,” Colonel Watts's voice came over T-Rex’s speaker. “I need Grey in on this. Hold.”
T-Rex caught Havoc’s eye, “Make sure you get everything in the bathroom. They’ll want any meds or supplements in a separate bag to hand off to the doctors so they can assess. Nomad, get her as comfortable as possible while the colonel loops the Color Code into the call.”
Havoc went into the bathroom to get soap and refill the pitcher with warm water and brought it to Nomad T-Rex found a loose pair of harem-styled pants and an oversized t-shirt in her suitcase and handed it off. Nomad thought they’d be comfortable for her to wear and easy for him to get her into.
As Nomad cleaned Red up, he tried to understand the scene she’d survived.
From the placement of Red’s bruises, Nomad could imagine her being thrown to the ground and something crushing in on her. The high fever was worrisome, and as Nomad washed her, she shivered violently.
“T-Rex,” Nomad said softly, “if she has sepsis, any extra time might crash her system. I say, grab her up and get her out of here ASAP. Let the closest hospital take over.” Nomad tried to advocate. “Time is of the essence.”
“The local hospitals are full,” T-Rex reminded him. “She won’t get immediate attention.”
“Beirut?” Nomad asked.
“Not if she’s out of it and talking, no,” Colonel Watts was back on the speaker. “Grey? Thoughts?”
“If we send her to the airport for a private flight, her illness would be probed by customs officials. Even if the team somehow got her awake and upright, getting her out would be delayed. The questions they’d ask would be problematic, especially if they had a doctor inspect her, and she’s suffering from blast trauma.”
Nomad thought of the sub that picked up Poole. It might be able to pop back up. But it had been over near Cyprus. That, too, would be a long route. They couldn’t get her loaded until dark and the sea clear. No guarantees there. He’d put it out there anyway. “A water exfil?”
“Boats, Grey?” Watts asked.
“I can get hold of a boat.” Grey’s voice sounded as purposeful and stressed as Nomad felt. “If Echo can navigate the vessel northwest into International waters. We can send a helicopter from the eastern Turkish base to pluck Red—who is your medic?”
“Nomad,” T-Rex said.
“Red and Nomad come out and fly to the same base Echo started from yesterday evening,” Colonel Watts said, “Hell of a twenty-four hours, gentlemen.”
Nomad thought his last twenty-four hours were a cakewalk compared to what this woman had been through.
“Looking at the complicating factors, the sea looks like the fastest route to get her to medical help,” the colonel said. “So the team knows, the instructions to keep Red out of a non-American hospital under the circumstances that you’ve described came from the Situation Room. Those orders are not from JSOC nor Color Code.”
Primary blast injuries, beyond blast ear, could mean the barotrauma affected her brain, eyes, lungs, or gastrointestinal tract.
Perforations, hemorrhage, and even a rupture of the globe of the eyes were possible.
As he cleaned her face, Nomad discovered that, thankfully, the blood wasn’t coming from her ear canal but was a superficial cut. Luckily, that ear hadn’t pressed into the pillowcase, so the scab was unaffected when Nomad turned her onto her back.
Red had sweated and thrashed enough that the plaster dust had formed a paste, and that paste had dried. He was afraid to pick it off lest he scratch her skin. He had no idea what kinds of microbes were involved here, and she obviously didn’t need anything more in her system to fight off. Oddly, her belt was unbuckled, her zipper unzipped, but she was buttoned at the top of her pants. In Nomad’s experience, women unbutton before unzipping when getting undressed.
Did this scene make sense?
Havoc was gathering her belongings and shoving them into a suitcase.
T-Rex was on the phone getting in touch with Command and apprising them of the situation.
“Ma’am,” Nomad rested his hand on her shoulder. “May I have permission to cut you out of your clothes to ensure you have no hidden bleeds?”
She gave him the slightest of nods. But he appreciated the go-ahead. Even if this was a medical emergency, Nomad didn’t ever want to touch a woman in a way that didn’t have her knowledge and permission.
Using his trauma sheers, Nomad got her outer clothes removed and performed the usual assessments.
“I have Colonel Watts on the line. What have you got, Nomad?” T-Rex asked. “I’m putting you on speaker.”
Nomad lifted his voice. “Sir, there are no open wounds. She has heavy bruising on either side of her body. No signs of serious crush injuries. No palpable broken bones. She’s feverish, only semi-conscious. She’s murmuring unintelligibly.”
“She can’t go to the hospital then,” Colonel Watts's voice came over T-Rex’s speaker. “I need Grey in on this. Hold.”
T-Rex caught Havoc’s eye, “Make sure you get everything in the bathroom. They’ll want any meds or supplements in a separate bag to hand off to the doctors so they can assess. Nomad, get her as comfortable as possible while the colonel loops the Color Code into the call.”
Havoc went into the bathroom to get soap and refill the pitcher with warm water and brought it to Nomad T-Rex found a loose pair of harem-styled pants and an oversized t-shirt in her suitcase and handed it off. Nomad thought they’d be comfortable for her to wear and easy for him to get her into.
As Nomad cleaned Red up, he tried to understand the scene she’d survived.
From the placement of Red’s bruises, Nomad could imagine her being thrown to the ground and something crushing in on her. The high fever was worrisome, and as Nomad washed her, she shivered violently.
“T-Rex,” Nomad said softly, “if she has sepsis, any extra time might crash her system. I say, grab her up and get her out of here ASAP. Let the closest hospital take over.” Nomad tried to advocate. “Time is of the essence.”
“The local hospitals are full,” T-Rex reminded him. “She won’t get immediate attention.”
“Beirut?” Nomad asked.
“Not if she’s out of it and talking, no,” Colonel Watts was back on the speaker. “Grey? Thoughts?”
“If we send her to the airport for a private flight, her illness would be probed by customs officials. Even if the team somehow got her awake and upright, getting her out would be delayed. The questions they’d ask would be problematic, especially if they had a doctor inspect her, and she’s suffering from blast trauma.”
Nomad thought of the sub that picked up Poole. It might be able to pop back up. But it had been over near Cyprus. That, too, would be a long route. They couldn’t get her loaded until dark and the sea clear. No guarantees there. He’d put it out there anyway. “A water exfil?”
“Boats, Grey?” Watts asked.
“I can get hold of a boat.” Grey’s voice sounded as purposeful and stressed as Nomad felt. “If Echo can navigate the vessel northwest into International waters. We can send a helicopter from the eastern Turkish base to pluck Red—who is your medic?”
“Nomad,” T-Rex said.
“Red and Nomad come out and fly to the same base Echo started from yesterday evening,” Colonel Watts said, “Hell of a twenty-four hours, gentlemen.”
Nomad thought his last twenty-four hours were a cakewalk compared to what this woman had been through.
“Looking at the complicating factors, the sea looks like the fastest route to get her to medical help,” the colonel said. “So the team knows, the instructions to keep Red out of a non-American hospital under the circumstances that you’ve described came from the Situation Room. Those orders are not from JSOC nor Color Code.”
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