Paterson, January 3rd, 2000
Early morning. Doc and Ross agree, we're not making our expected recovery. Well, Doc agrees. Ross always had his suspicions, but now he's been fully briefed. Stupid fears, as our medical second, he should have been brought up to speed much earlier.
The problem, they think, is the shrapnel, odd shaped fragments dug in deep, aren't migrating to the surface as they should. Should. SHOULD. Ah, how abnormal becomes normal. I can feel their hard knots in the muscles and under the skin sawing away as I move. Thank god for pain killers in all their glory.
Ross'll put Doc under the knife first.
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"Damn, George, what are they doing?"
"Harassing, sniping, probing. Last night was their easiest shot at us. Now, now they have to think it through again."
Leo grunts, "They want us alive. Otherwise, I'd just burn us out."
We glumly contemplate that option. Leo's eye's light up. "Burn!"
He gets up, using his cane, and hobbles to the door. "I got to see Alpha."
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Late morning. Doc's shoveling it in. Mouthful after happy mouthful of high calorie, irreplaceable MREs. She's sitting beside a bedpan filled with a double fistful of metal shards.
Ross still looks dumbstruck. "The shrapnel was easy once I could reach it! Her incision kept trying to clot over and close itself. Like watching the healing process in time lapse. They were encapsulated in this watery goo, almost pus, material. I saved some for later examination." He keeps shaking his head. "Once I pulled the foreign matter I only had to suture the grossest cuts."
"Are you up for doing it again?"
"Yes, Major. I..."
"Give me another hour," Doc interrupts. "Ross, you can assist."
"You sure?"
"Absolutely!" Her leg bounces restlessly. "Turn down the chance to cut, cut, cut on my commander. Never!"
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"What is this?"
Leo stands proudly in the hall by his 'contraption'. "Is simple. This was oxygen cylinder, we take off bottom. Don't worry, was empty already. This is a full Nitrogen cylinder. Together they make air-cannon. We fill IV bags with flammables, they break when they land, spread fuel all around."
"And how do they ignite?"
"Haven't figured that. Got any ideas?"
Boys.
"Why, yes." I take up a pen. "See if Griffith has any of this in inventory." My professors would shit themselves if they saw what use I put my college chemistry classes to.
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I'm like a mother hen, filling my chicks with wisdom, before going under the knife. Leo and George take it with good humor, but George has long past stopped taking notes.
Doc places one hand on my shoulder. "Kat, enough. They know what to do. You'll be back in a few hours." She waves at the two men. "Scat. I'll send a runner once she's out of surgery."
Doc's still moving stiffly. Is this really a good idea? Probably not, but I need to be up before the inevitable happens. They'll get it together soon and there's at least on hose-head out there. "Fine, get out of here."
George salutes, "See you after your nap."
Leo just nods, one fiend to another.
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I wake from nightmares to gunfire and screams. I grope wildly for a weapon as strong arms force me down. Another pair of hands pin my arms. Shouted orders sound over the screams. "Kat, stand down! Kat, stop, stand down!"
Doc, Doc's voice. I try to still myself. The gunfire's far away, outside. Screams are coming from the next ward. "What... Who?"
"Probing attack. They're not pushing." Yet, I finish, yet. "Eddie woke about ten minutes ago. He's... not responsive. I got him strapped in. But I'm not going to block his airway."
Fog's clearing some. "Sedate him?"
"To save your eardrums? No. He's experienced major head trauma and been unconscious for 48 hours. Damned if I'll put him back under."
"Right, right."
Ross rubs his ribs. "One hell of a punch, Major."
"Sorry," didn't realize I hit him.
"No worries." He hands me a pair of foam shooter's ear plugs. "Put these in and rest."
"Yeah," Doc barks, "we'll wake you before you die."
"Work on your bedside manner."
"When you can get a second opinion. Not until then."
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Later, once I've gotten past the groggy stage, Doc hands me my own collection of junk in a pan. Add it to my collection she tells me.
People collect the damnedest things; cards, cans, rubber bands, and twine. I should start a scrap metal collection. Nah. I hand the pan full of shrapnel back to Doc. "Give this to Alpha. Tell him to recycle it back at them."
"Ooo, that's a good idea!"
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Hours later, walking without shrieking in pain is it's own reward.
"So, Leo, you've test fired it already?"
"Water bags only, but yes."
"And?"
He grins happily. "It has range! I put 'rounds' pretty far into the river from the top floor. Tirado, did math stuff." Tirado's one of Alpha's 3rd squad men. "He things if we haul it up into one of the towers we send it several blocks."
"As far as Isham?"
"Maybe."
"Did you get the flammables?"
"Da! We got four rounds. You got a target?"
"They've got another OP on top of that apartment complex outside Isham. Lots of broken windows over there. See if you can put a few rounds in after dark."
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Manhattan's skyline is lit with flames.
I thought we missed completely with the first round. There was nothing for a long while. We waited on a sign.
Leo gave a happy woop before handing me his thermal sight. We'd hit around the 5th story. It was inside and burning merrily. Luck had given us a broken window at the right height. To be fair, most of the north side was broken windows.
Tirado tweaked the angle on Leo's toy. Round two went out once the fires became visible. That round struck low on the tenth floor. Flames dripped down the exterior and didn't catch. The dry interior furnishing though caught from the splash.
Maybe the roof OP finally smelled smoke or someone looking back from the front lines outside Allen noticed the lights. In the end it didn't matter much. Flames spread, the tower burned, and choking black smoke rolled on the cold north wind down into their base in Isham Park.
Someone, I forget who, asked me if I was worried that the fires would spread. So long as the north wind holds let it burn. I'm not who I was anymore. 'You've come a long way, baby.'
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