She turned around. “Lieutenant Carson, call the medics. Lieutenant Gavin, pull our men on a line behind the position of the humvee. And have someone cut those men loose.” She pointed at the prisoners.
She dropped to her knees and crawled over to Hagarty and ripped open her first aid pack, removed a bandage and placed it on his neck. The bandage instantly stained red, the blood seeping through the cloth and between her fingers and out onto the pavement. Her hands shook as she tried to stop the blood. God, she could smell the blood, there was so much.
“I need help here.”
Two of her men ran up, as well as Agent Harris. She glared at him, then looked away.
“Help Stanson,” she told her men. Corporal Stanson had stopped moving.
“You,” she said to Harris. “Lift him up enough so I can get this bandage around him.”
He nodded, his face pale. Quickly, she wrapped the tails underneath the opposite armpit from his wound and tied if off as tight as she could. It might as well not have been there; blood still poured steadily from the wound.
“Best I can do. He won’t make it if we don’t get an ambulance right away.”
Harris looked up and spoke.
“I know you, don’t I?”
She glared at him.
“Yeah, you do. You killed my friends and neighbors in Highview.”
Confusion clouded his eyes, and then he recognized her. His eyes widened. She stood up and walked away. As she approached her humvee, she shook.
Stanson lay there, the medics trying to save him. They covered the sucking chest wound with a plastic bag and wrapped him with bandages. Blood had splattered six feet away from him as he struggled.
What had she done? Oh, God, look at him. She could hear an echo in her mind: When the Army wants your ideas, Corporal, they’ll promote you to Captain.
Those were just about the last words he’d heard.
She dropped to her knees and crawled over to Hagarty and ripped open her first aid pack, removed a bandage and placed it on his neck. The bandage instantly stained red, the blood seeping through the cloth and between her fingers and out onto the pavement. Her hands shook as she tried to stop the blood. God, she could smell the blood, there was so much.
“I need help here.”
Two of her men ran up, as well as Agent Harris. She glared at him, then looked away.
“You,” she said to Harris. “Lift him up enough so I can get this bandage around him.”
He nodded, his face pale. Quickly, she wrapped the tails underneath the opposite armpit from his wound and tied if off as tight as she could. It might as well not have been there; blood still poured steadily from the wound.
“Best I can do. He won’t make it if we don’t get an ambulance right away.”
Harris looked up and spoke.
“I know you, don’t I?”
She glared at him.
“Yeah, you do. You killed my friends and neighbors in Highview.”
Confusion clouded his eyes, and then he recognized her. His eyes widened. She stood up and walked away. As she approached her humvee, she shook.
Stanson lay there, the medics trying to save him. They covered the sucking chest wound with a plastic bag and wrapped him with bandages. Blood had splattered six feet away from him as he struggled.
What had she done? Oh, God, look at him. She could hear an echo in her mind: When the Army wants your ideas, Corporal, they’ll promote you to Captain.
Those were just about the last words he’d heard.
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