Kilo-29 (Damned of the 2/19th, Book 15)

Part 18

Site Kilo-29
Military Area - Operations Area - Elevators
Winter, 1993
Day Two-Evening

Two of the lights exploded, showering us with sparks, while lights went out in the entire hallway. Someone screamed, something yowled, and things came out of the elevator, swarming Kincaid, Donaldson, and me.

Kincaid got off a handful of shots, but one landed on his chest and took him to the ground, even though he had the rifle between him and it. Donaldson swung a Basic Training perfect buttstroke, sweeping his first attacker to the side in a spray of blood, then kicked the next one in the face.

"Hold on, Kay!" Donaldson yelled.

Three came at me, but I was moving as soon as the lights exploded. The first one ran point first into my knife and I pivoted at the waist, using its momentum to throw it off the knife. One tackled me around my waist and the third went at my legs. I cut the throat on the one around my waist, the rabbit punched the one on my thigh then stomped it in the middle of the back.

I'd made the mistake before of not going full lethal when I should have, and I'd almost paid for it with my life, and Nancy had almost paid for it too.

...Clifton, lets see how funny she thinks this is when you fuck her in the ass...

I was roaring, not really making sense, just loud noises, vocal aggression nothing more, and I lunged at the Major, my bloody knife in my fist.

Two more gunshots rang out, and I heard Kincaid shout "NVG's! Go to NVG's!" over the din. The Major's eyes were wide and he lifted his arms as if to protect himself from me stabbing him.

I grabbed his wrist, pivoted at the waist, and flung him into the open elevator.

"Cover the Major!" I shouted.

"I'll kill all of you motherfuckers!" Kincaid bellowed.

Someone was screaming, and I bulled past the three suits, seeing them fighting with one or two each in the light from the elevator, taking the time to slash my knife across the back of whatever ones I could reach and following it with a a backwards stab.

Movies give you the wrong idea. A quick slash looks like it just grazes the body, laying open a thin cut. I habitually held my knife in my fist with the blade pointing down, and when I made a slash the knife was angled forward slightly, and pressure on what I hit tried to push it back. I spent time honing my knives, I could literally shave with them, alternating between a ceramic rod and a razor strop after I shaved. The knife didn't just scrape across them, but laid them open all the way to the bone as it bit in deep. The knife would whip forward when it cleared the body and I'd stab backwards to reset where the knife was.

I'd practiced it so often it was muscle memory that I didn't even need to think about it.

The ones on my left I threw elbows or rabbit punches as I bulled my way through the bunch in between me and the three troops that had been following the Major.

...fuck you Suits, I don't owe you shit...

...that's right, Ant, remember what they did...

...I won't forget, Catherine...

Two of the Privates were on the ground, dark shapes on top of them, the other one was fighting with two but still on his feet.

Another couple gunshots from behind me and something cracked by my ear.

"You want some of this? You want some of this?" Kincaid bellowed out.

I kicked one away, and it slid across the tile on its side, curled slightly, then grabbed the other one up by the shoulder, yanking it up into the air. One of them on the ground was screaming a high, whistling, bubbling scream, the other's hands went to his face and he was squirming on the tile.

"Kincaid, Donaldson, I need you!" I bellowed, palming the back of the head of one of the ones fighting with the guy against the wall. I put everything I had into it, twisting my waist, and slammed its face into the wall while I slammed the knife into the back of the other. "Bring the Major!"

The one I'd kicked across the floor was coming at me again, but I was trying to catch the guy who the two things had been tussling with.

"You want some? You want some?" Kincaid shouted, firing his rifle again. The one scrabbling at me curled into a ball, screeching and clawing at the tile as it writhed and squirmed.

"Form up on me, form up on me!" I shouted, lowering the kid to the floor. The one I was holding got his legs under him and stood up.

"I'm OK, I'm OK." The kid said.

"Where's the Major?" I bellowed out. Two more gunshots hammered out.

Something dropped down from the suspended ceiling, my limited peripheral vision catching the movement. I blocked her with an upraised forearm and saw something coming at my face. I swept it to the side, feeling something thud into my shoulder as the thing went down. My knife fell from suddenly numb fingers as something went in my shoulder with a snap.

"We're on our way, Sergeant!" Donaldson yelled out.

"Major, come on!" Kincaid yelled.

"Form up on me!" I bellowed as I stomped on the thing at my feet, bringing my heel down on the side of the head.

One of the guys on the floor was getting to his hands and knees, the other was making bubbling noises, holding onto his face.

"Fuck you, fuck you!" Kincaid screamed out. There was another gunshot. "Don't fucking touch me!" he yelled.

Something jumped on the kid who was on all fours and I kicked it off of him before scooping up my knife. My right arm was limp, tingling numbness shooting up and down the arm and my hand exploding in pins and needles. The shoulder joint itself was a burning mass.

...medic! medic! sergeant ant is down...

...get me to my fucking feet...

I rolled my shoulder, and felt it crunch and pop, then it gave a strange squishing feeling and my whole arm erupted into pins and needles, but I could suddenly feel my fingers. I swapped the knife from my left to my right hand and drug the kid up.

"On your feet, soldier, get up, get up, get up!" I bellowed out, dragging him by the front of his uniform. "Form up on me, men!"

I bent down and went to grab the other kid. Someone hit a flashlight and I could see that his whole face was torn up under his hands.

"Kincaid! Donaldson!" I yelled.

The one I'd kicked off the kid came at me again. I threw a punch with my right arm, my fist hitting it square in the face and my whole shoulder feeling like it tore apart at the impact. Something crushed under my knuckles and it stopped dead, dropping onto the floor. I followed up with a downward stab with my knife, the blade crunching into it. I tore it free with a yank and blood sprayed across my face.

Someone screamed, a sound of pain and agony. A glance behind me showed that someone had a flashlight on, and I could see Kincaid firing into the elevator, the muzzle flash lighting up the corridor.

Donaldson was next to me, dragging the Major.

"You two, grab him, drag him with you." I pointed at the kid on the ground as I stood up. "Donaldson, cover them."

Three more gunshots.

"Kincaid, quit fucking with them and come on!" I bellowed out. One of the Suits slammed into me and I knocked him against the wall before grabbing another of them and throwing them behind me. Toothpick had his pistol out and fired twice, his weapon pointing in Kincaid's direction.

...kill him now, Ant!...

I didn't say anything, just grabbed Toothpick by the back of his jacket and flung him behind me.

"Come on, Kincaid!" I yelled.

Kincaid fired again, then turned around to me.

"We're bugging out." I yelled to him. "Donaldson, get them to Operations!"

"Roger that!" Donaldson yelled back. "Pick that man up and carry him. Major, come on, we gotta get out of here!"

"We gotta hold them off, Kincaid." I said. My head was ringing from the gunshots and my arm hurt like a motherfucker. "They've gotta evac the wounded."

"I lost my NVG's." Kincaid told me, turning his head to face me. He had blood streaming down his face and neck. "I'm injured."

"We're all injured, soldier." I told him.

The whole corridor shook as the elevator doors closed, cutting off the light.

"Cover me!" I shouted over the din. I pushed my hand into my thigh cargo pocket and pulled out a package, stripping it away with my wonderful plastic teeth to reveal the plastic tube. I put one end in my mouth, bent it sharply until there was a crack, then shook it.

A soft blue glow filled the corridor and I threw it on the floor before grabbing out another handful of them. I held my hand out to Kincaid and he grabbed a couple. We stripped the OD packaging off and popping them. Kincaid yelled Donaldson's name and threw a couple of them that he'd already lit up behind him, holding his weapon by the pistol grip.

Something moved, and Kincaid fired one handed, yanking the trigger twice real quick.

One of the shadows shrieked, but the other came at me, swinging something.

I dropped the chem-lights, bringing up my forearm and feeling the shock of impact on it. I was beyond pain, charged with adrenaline and combat chemicals. I stepped in, slamming my knife into the stomach, then swept him away with my left arm and hand. Kincaid dropped down and scooped up the chemlights I'd dropped, firing once more.

We were backing up step by step as Kincaid jammed the chemlights into his thigh cargo pocket and then swapped out his empty magazine. I had two chemlights jammed behind my LBE at my waist.

Donaldson fired twice from ahead of us.

"Left at the intersection!" I yelled.

"Already on it, Sergeant!" Donaldson yelled back.

The Major was yelling something, but it didn't really register, just that he was gabbling a lot of bullshit that didn't matter.

"Sergeant, behind you!" Someone yelled. I spun in place, but something caught me in the bottom of the ribs with a crushing blow, throwing me into Kincaid. We both went down, the magazine clattering from Kincaid's hand and bouncing away into the darkness.

Something was on me, scrabbling up me, and my vision went out with a bright flash as something hit me in the face with a crunch. Kincaid was swearing, fighting with something in the dim blue light.

I started stabbing, getting one hand one whatever it was, rolling and pinning whatever it was underneath me. It was clawing at my legs as we rolled and I got my hand on its face, ignoring the pan and whatever it was bit my palm.

This time I knew to keep my thumb out of the way as I pushed my knife under the chin and gave it a twist. Whatever it was convulsed under me and I climbed to my feet. Kincaid was on his feet, his rifle hanging from the sling as he slammed something over and over against the wall.

"You think you can touch me? You think you're tougher than me?" He shouted, pulling it back and slamming it again and again.

"Kincaid, come on!" I shouted, yanking him back by his LBE. "Quit fucking around!"

He grabbed his rifle and fired twice into the shape at his feet.

"FUCK YOU!"

I glanced back, seeing the corner was almost there. Donaldson had dropped chemlights on the floor to show us the cross corridor. Two more shapes were coming at us.

"Kincaid, waste 'em!" I yelled, sheathing my knife with tingling fingers and grabbing my weapon. Kincaid started firing behind me, facing the way we were going and moving jerky as he was crouched down, his weapon up in the socket of his shoulder, his face pressed against the rear sight.

The two figures scrabbled away, down the corridor heading toward the living quarters.

shit

"They're splitting us up!" Kincaid yelled.

"Can't be helped, we got wounded." I yelled back. I jacked open the M-203 and fumbled a 40mm shell out of bandoleer wrapped around my torso.

"The other guys are helpless." Kincaid told me.

shitshitshitshit

I stumbled, going down on one knee as my head swum and my vision went static filled.

"We've got wounded, I'll use the PA." I told him.

"Sergeant, come on." Kincaid pulled me up by my LBE and I stumbled with him around the corner.

"Double time!" I told him, pushing myself into a jog. I bounced twice against the wall. Something screamed behind us.

"Flare out!" I yelled, turning and firing the M-203. The round bounced twice before cracking out behind us, but by that time we'd faced forward.

"Are you fucking crazy?" Kincaid yelled as the white thermite flare bloomed to life behind us.

There was screeching behind us as we pounded down the hallway.

Donaldson was standing in the doorway to Operation's airlock.

"Behind you!" He yelled. Something hit my left arm but I kept on running. Looking down, there was a goddamn arrowhead poking out of the inside of my forearm and fletching sticking out of the outside of my forearm.

We ran into the airlock and I threw the locking bar, lifting it up and slamming it back down.

The door dropped suddenly, suddenly braking with a hiss and a thud before slowly dropping the last six inches.

"WARNING! POSSIBLE FIRE DETECTED IN OPERATIONS! WARNING! POSSIBLE FIRE IN OPERATIONS!" rang out.

"There's a fire?" One of the Suits asked. His face was pale in the lights.

"It's just the flare." I told him. Donaldson was pushing forward, his weapon smoking and hanging down from the sling. He started punching in the code. "I'll take care of it when we get into the egg."

"The egg?" The Major asked.

"It's a hardened section of the facility where you can control the whole fucking place." Kincaid said, reloading his weapon. He had a bleeding gash starting above between his eyebrows that went above his eyebrow, then pulled down across the side of his face and tore through his ear.

"You all right, Sergeant?" Someone asked me.

"I'm fine." I said, raising my arm to look at the arrow stuck in my forearm.

"Is that a fucking arrow?" The Major asked.

"I think it's a crossbow bolt." I told him, looking at it. "Too short for an arrow, and it's a pointed head, not a cross head or an arrowhead." I rotated my arm, staring it. "Ain't that some shit?"

"The fuckers ambushed us." Kincaid snarled, closing his magazine pouch. Only one magazine was upside down, a gap between the two remaining inside. One of the Meatheads had another slung over his shoulders in a fireman's carry, blood dripping on the floor from the guy's face. Another one was holding his neck, blood bubbling out of his mouth and nose as he struggled to breathe.

"They use weapons." I said.

The door started rising.

"Donaldson, I'm on point, cover them." I said, pushing between people. "Get the wounded into the egg and start first aid."

The door finished opening and I moved in, hurrying over to the terminal I'd ID'd earlier that had a label that read "FACILITY MONITORING STATION #3" since it was the closest.

"Use their own pressure dressings, not yours." The Major reminded them.

"First aid kit here." Kincaid called out.

"Grab it." The Major said. "Kincaid, sit the fuck down."

"No, sir, I'm all right." He said.

"You're bleeding everywhere." One of the Meatheads said. Same one that had been talking.

"Scalp wound, they always bleed bad." Kincaid answered.

I grabbed the microphone with my left hand, ignoring the pain when I tensed my muscles, and grabbed the pen with my right hand. My fingers were purple on my right hand, clumsy and still shot through with pins and needles. I tapped the boxed words "ENLISTED LIVING QUARTERS" and then "LIVE INTERCOM" when the menu came up.

"This is Sergeant Ant. We have a situation. If you are not in your room, immediately move to your room." I said, using the steady cadence they taught us for radio communication. "Once in your room, or if you are already in your room, close the door and grab the bar on the left hand side of the door and pull it down until it rotates to point down and locks. Do NOT open your door no matter what you hear. Do not panic." I paused for a second. "Get ready to move out, I'll be there as soon as I can to get you."

"I can't stop the bleeding, sir." Someone said. I dropped the mic and pen and got up, wincing when the vanes poking out of my arm brushed the seat when I turned.

Kincaid was standing by the wounded, facing the door, his rifle held tightly.

"Kincaid, get your ass over here." I snapped, moving up the steps to where they'd pulled everyone over. "Donaldson, come on."

One of the Meathead's had gouges and clashes on his face, and I could see teeth marks on him. Another one was standing up, pushing away the Major every time the other man tried to get him to sit down. He was holding just under his chin, and when he coughed blood sprayed out of his nose and mouth. The other Meathead had blood staining his forearm. I knelt next to the box that Kincaid had pulled off the wall, popping the latches.

"You're first, come here." I pointed at the guy holding his throat. He moved up, stiff legged and his eyes slightly glazed. "Lay down." He looked panicked. "Lay your ass down." I snapped. He kind of folded down, and I managed to help him lay down. I pulled out gauze and stared him in the eyes.

"I'm not going to let you die, kid, I'll do everything I can to keep you alive." I told the Meathead. He looked scared but nodded slightly. He coughed again, blood spattering both of us. "Move your hand, I got you." I held up the gauze.

..."I don't know what to do, Ant." Nancy admitted. "I don't think I can save Jacobs or Bomber." More tears spilled from her eyes. "What do I do, Ant?"...

The wound was ragged, and when he inhaled the blood stopped and when he exhaled he coughed and bubbles mixed with the blood.

shit shit shit

"Kincaid, Donaldson, I need you." I turned and looked at the Major. "Sir, I need your help. You too." I told the Meathead standing up. "Sir, hold his legs, you, Meathead, grab his arm." I looked at Kincaid. "Pull the trays out of the medical kit." I looked back down at the kid. "Put your arms at your sides." He nodded, then coughed and choked again. I straddled him, making sure his arms were pinned.

"This is going to be scary as shit, kid, but if I don't do this, you're going to drown." I told him. He nodded, and I drew my knife from my boot sheathe. His eyes widened. "Donaldson, hold his head between your knees and press on his forehead to keep him still. Kincaid, hand me an alcohol pad." Donaldson and Kincaid followed my direction, and I wiped off the blade. The kid coughed again, and I could feel underneath me that he was having a hard time breathing.

"Kincaid, see if there's a trach tube in there." I snapped, then held up the knife. "Stay with me, Private." I could see the fear in his eyes, but he held still as I bent down.

And slid the point of my knife into the hollow of his throat.

"What the fuck are you doing?" The Major screamed.

I ignored the Major, pushing through until the resistance vanished, then made a horizontal slit in his throat. "Kincaid, hurry up."

"Got it!" Kincaid said.

"Strip it, give it to me." I snapped. I twisted the knife slightly to open up the wound and the kid drew a whistling breath. I held out my hand and Kincaid slapped the tubeinto my hand. The knife clattered on the floor when I dropped it, and I lined up the end and pushed it past the wound, ignoring the crunching noise, then when the kid exhaled through the tube I slid the guard down.

"Someone prop him up." I said when I climbed off him, turning to the kid with the mangled face. Donaldson half pulled him into one of the station chairs while I moved over to the kid with the torn up face and poured my canteen over him, washing away the blood to get a look. "Shit, this is gonna be tough, hold him down."

Kincaid straddled him and pushed his hands into his shoulders. "Cold War medical?" he asked as he pulled the aid kit closer. It wasn't a standard first aid kit, but an emergency trauma kit, which was pretty standard in the "egg" sections of some sites.

"You might say that." I told him.

..."Hold him, goddamn it!" Nancy screamed. "Taggart, hurry your pregnant ass up!" Raleigh had dropped down next to Nancy on her knees, her eyes wide and face pale as she saw the horrific wound on Hendricks' chest. Nancy didn't even look at her. "Raleigh, get in there, hold him down, goddamn it!"...

..."Hold him down, you worthless bitches!"...

I poured more water on the kid's face, looking at the wounds. I couldn't see any bone, it just look like something had torn up the skin. I turned away from the kid and dug through the top level, pulling out the suture kit.

"Painkillers?" Kincaid said.

"He's already out, we need to move fast." I answered.

"Open your eyes, Franks, keep your eyes open." Donaldson was saying.

"Sergeant Ant, do you know what you're doing?" The Major asked.

"Do you want to fucking do this?" I snapped, pulling out a mid-grade needle and some suture thread. I had no idea what the numbers on the thread packets meant, and didn't really care. I threaded the needle, ignoring the dull steady throb of pain in my forearm.

I followed Nancy's instructions, almost reliving her lessons to Bomber, Taggart, and me. Making each stitch, tying it off, then not bothering to snip the thread but moving to the next stitch. It seemed to take forever, and I almost passed out when I caught the fletching on the kid's uniform and it tilted in the wound.

The stitches were roughly a finger width apart and I went through two packets of stitching thread before the worst of cuts were closed. He was still bleeding, but I put gauze on his face and wrapped gauze around his head, keeping his eyes, nose, and mouth as clear as possible, then turned around.

"Who's next?" I asked.

"Me." Kincaid said, climbing off the other kid. "My face really hurts, Sergeant."

"I'll fucking bet." I told him, waving at a chair. "Sit down."

"What about you?" The Major asked.

"I won't be able to use my hands in a little bit." I told him. I coughed and my ribs flared with agony, making me partially hunch over.

"Sergeant, I think I can do it." Donaldson said, moving over next to me. "I watched you pretty close."

"It won't be pretty." Donaldson said.

"Just do it." Kincaid answered.

"You want painkillers?" Donaldson took the offered suture kit.

"Fuck it." Kincaid said, tightening his hands on the seat of the chair. "Just fucking do it, Dee."

I stood up, then raised up my arm to look at the crossbow bolt sticking out of it. It was aluminum, with plastic fletching and a copper head. Blood had just oozed out of the wound on both sides and my whole forearm was swelling up.

"Who's got hands free?" I asked, sitting down at one of the chairs.

Two of the Meatheads were down, the third was keeping the one with the trach awake and talking to him, holding his hand. The Suits were moved away from us, and I just ignored them the way they ignored me.

"I do." The Major told me, moving up to where I was sitting. "What do I do?"

"You're going to have to pull the fucking crossbow bolt out of my arm, we'll know what to do next." I told him. "You got a Leatherman?" he shook his head. I fumbled at my belt and pulled mine out of the leather pouch, handing it to him. "Use that to pull it out backwards." I grinned at him. "Don't pay any attention to any noises I make, just do it."

"Agent Pierson, I need your help." the Major said. One of the Suits started coming over toward us.

"Get the fuck away from me." I snarled at him. He stopped, and I looked at the Major. "You bring any of those three alphabet assholes near me, and I'll kill them."

The Major looked at me for a long moment, then nodded. I grabbed my wrist to hold my arm stable then hissed when the Major grabbed the back of the crossbow bolt with the pliers.

"Just fucking pull it out." I told him. He nodded and started pulling, the blood slicked steel sliding out of my arm. "Goddamn that burns." I could feel the groove between the shaft and the head of the bolt tugging on the muscle inside my arm and groaned, dropping my head down for a second, knowing I was covered in sweat.

I lifted my head up and looked at Kincaid, who was trembling in the chair as Donaldson made sloppy stitches, sliding the curved needle too deep some times, too shallow others, but still trying to close the wound across his forehead and the side of his head. Kincaid saw me and let go of the seat to give me a thumbs up with his right hand, then went quickly back to holding the seat.

"It's out." The Major said. "It's not bleeding too bad."

"Missed the artery and the major veins. Put gauze on each side then wrap it." I told him. "We aren't done."

I held still, managing to get my pill bottle out of my pocket and shake a pill into my mouth so I could grind them up. When I tried to put it away I dropped the bottle on the ground when my hand spasmed. I groaned at the pain in my shoulder and the Major paused for a second.

"Just do it." I told him. He nodded.

"Done. I didn't do a good job." Donaldson said.

"How badly is he bleeding?" I asked.

"Just oozing, Sergeant." He answered.

"Then you did good." I told him. While the Major was binding my arm I looked at Kincaid and grinned. "Don't worry about being ugly, Kincaid. We're guys, we're supposed to be ugly. If God wanted us to be pretty, he'd of made us girls."

The Major and Donaldson laughed at that, and Kincaid grinned then groaned.

"At least then I'd have tits and could dance in front of the mirror." Kincaid said, and I laughed while he stood up, picking his rifle back up.

"You've got a huge knot on your forehead." The Major said. When he lifted his hands toward my face I flinched back, then groaned, listing to the side as my ribs ground.

"Sergeant, where else are you injured?" The Major asked.

"I'm all right." I told him.

"Sergeant, you aren't Rambo, where else are you injured?" His voice was full of officer's authority for the first time since I had met him.

"I caught something in the ribs, and my shoulder is fucked up, but that's recurring." I told him.

"Strip." He said, standing up and dragging me up by the front of my uniform.

"Yes, sir." I told him, feeling relief for some reason.

After two tries at getting my fingers to work, the Major undid my LBE and peeled it off of me, then helped me out of my Kevlar vest, and BDU top.

"Can you get your T-shirt off?" he asked, staring at my fingers.

"Yeah." I told him, peeling it off. I groaned in pain as it came clear and the Major inhaled sharply.

My shoulder and chest were purple, and there were heavy yellow bruises on my ribs with red splots in the middle. When the Major pressed on my side I hissed and flinched.

"I think your ribs are cracked. What hit you?" The Major asked.

"Dunno." I answered. "It was pretty chaotic."

"Tape them?" Donaldson asked, coming over next to the Major.

"No, I won't be able to breathe and it doesn't really do anything and I run the risk of pneumonia." I told them, repeating why the medics and doctors at the dispensary at 2/19th didn't tape ribs. The Major nodded, then reached up toward my shoulder.

"Hold still, Sergeant." He snapped when I flinched.

"I thought you taped ribs." Donaldson said.

"Most doctors do." The Major said. "But Sergeant Ant has other ideas." He pressed his fingers into the puffy flesh at where my collarbone joined my shoulder and I almost passed out from the pain.

"I think your collarbone is detached." The Major told me. He traced the wide scar on the front of my shoulder that went all the way around with his fingernail. "What happened?"

"Got it fucked up." I told him. I made a fist, raised my arm up to straight out, and there was a loud snapping noise. "Shit that hurts."

"What happened to your back, Sergeant Ant?" One of the Suits asked.

"Shut your fucking mouth." I snarled at him.

"Sergeant." The Major warned me.

I shut up.

"I don't know what to do." He told me.

...I don't know what to do! Nancy wailed...

"We gotta get your men." I told him, pulling back on my T-shirt.

"Do you think they're in danger?" The Major asked while I pulled on my Kevlar vest and BDU top, buttoning the top after the vest was on but not closed.

"Two went toward the living areas." Kincaid said from where he was walking back and forth. Blood was still oozing out of the stitches, but he wasn't feeling any pains. "Those assholes get in with the other guys, we're gonna lose them." I closed the vest and grabbed my LBE, ignoring the pain.

"Shit." The Major said. "Sergeant Ant, you've got combat experience

I barked out a harsh laugh at that, shrugging into my LBE.

"What do we do?" He finished.

"Sometimes you have to cut your losses." One of the Suits said. "They're on their own."

"THOSE ARE MY MEN!" The Major bellowed, shoving by me. "THOSE ARE MY FUCKING MEN YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!"

Toothpick smirked. "Soldiers die, that's their job."

The Major let out a roar of rage and lunged forward, his hands reaching for Toothpick's neck. One of the Suits stepped forward, and the Major was flying through the air to land on the other side of the circle of stations.

Kincaid and Donaldson both came forward, Kincaid's rifle coming up and Donaldson balling his fists.

Toothpick and his friends drew pistols.

"Stop right there, soldier." Toothpick said. "Don't do anything stupid."

...they're making their play...

..No shit, Dana...

"Don't even move, Sergeant Ant, keep your hands in sight." One of the Suits said.

"I saved your fucking lives, and this is how you're going to fucking repay me?" I spit on the floor. "Fucking alphabet boys, you're all fucking scum."

"Some things are more important than you think, and you're expendable assets, Sergeant." Toothpick sneered at me. "You would do good to remember that we have authority over any operations we deem fit."

"Like Desert Storm?" I stared at them.

...those are my fucking prisoners. What the fuck do you think your doing to them?...

...This is CIA business, Sergeant, not yours...

...the fuck it is, these men are accorded rights under the Geneva Convention...

...they have what rights we give them...

"Or like when you fuckers came to FSTS 317 and tried to rape one of my troops during one of your little 'interrogations'?" I finished. Kincaid made a low growl in his throat.

...KILL THEM ALL!... My voice echoed in my head. The Major stood up, his nose bleeding, and found himself staring down the barrel of one of the Suit's pistols.

Toothpick grinned at me. "It was war, Sergeant, even someone as stupid as you should understand that war demands certain actions."

"What about my men?" The Major asked.

"They'll just have to survive on their own. We're staying here till the doors open up." Toothpick stated. "I'm sure Sergeant Ant will be willing to put some extra effort into opening the door."

"Why are you here?" I asked.

"National security." One of the Suits told me.

Typical.

There was a rattling above me, faint, something scrabbling on metal. Kincaid opened his mouth, turning toward me.

"Kincaid, can you work a computer?" I broke in before he could say anything, pointing at a terminal near the Suits then gasping with pain, letting my arm drop, and grabbing my shoulder.

"Umm... Sergeant?" Donaldson said.

"Go stand by the door, Donaldson, I'm OK." I said. Donaldson nodded, moving over to the door we'd come through.

"Help me over there, Kay, I'm having trouble breathing." I told him, pointing at the terminal. I was gasping, my breath hitched, holding onto my shoulder and hunched over.

"Don't be stupid, Sergeant. You're outnumbered and injured." Toothpick sneered as Kincaid came over.

"Hear that?" Kincaid whispered in my ear as he bent down next to me.

"Get ready." I said softly back, then raised my voice. "I'll show you what to do, we might be able to override the system."

"You can't just leave my men to die." The Major said, his face bright red and his fists clenched.

"Sacrifices must be made." Toothpick answered. "Maybe we can give them a medal." The disdain in his voice ignited my blood, sweeping away my medications, the pain, the exhaustion, and bringing everything back to crystal clear.

"Help me over there, Kincaid." I said, my voice was weak and I coughed again. Blood ran out of my mouth.

My fucking tongue really hurt.

"Goddamn you're heavy." Kincaid said, half dragging me toward the Suits.

...you should try having him on top of you...

One set of lights flickered.

Toothpick laughed as we got close, taking a step back from the terminal I'd pointed at, almost bumping into the two Suits behind him.

The lights went off, only the glow of the chemlights me and Kincaid had stuck between the straps of our LBE belts providing light.

"Dee, hit the door, pump it twice!" I yelled, shoving Kincaid behind me.

I was already moving while I was shouting, diving over the monitors and landing hard on the floor. They'd expect me to come charging in. I landed on my right arm and almost screamed, but still scrabbled forward in a high crawl. "Kay, get them out!"

"Fall back to living quarters!" The Major yelled.

"This way, this way!" Donaldson yelled.

"Grab Franks, let's go!" Kincaid shouted.

Two pistol shots went off.

Three rifle shots went off.

Something yowled in the darkness.

And something else answered.