Chapter Twenty
Atext popped up on Wes’s phone from their communications center.Training injury—right leg fracture. Operator—Zulu Team. XO—Tango Team—unconscious. XO Zulu Team to accompany injured to TC Medical. Requesting night supervisor.
The health center’s lights shone brightly as Wes hurried inside. Sitting behind a large reception desk was a woman with long brown hair in a tight braid and vivid blue eyes. She stood, and Wes noted she was dressed in a white blouse and a black skirt.Eagle’s Talon dress uniform.“I’m Wes Crockett.”
“Hena Simon, sir.” She buzzed him through the gate.
Wes walked through and turned. “If you plan on working for me, you will not violate protocol.”
“I am aware, Mr. Crockett. Your identity was verified as a 99.99 percent match through facial recognition.” Hena pointed to the three cameras as well as the two screens in front of where she was sitting.
“I’m sorry.” He grimaced.
“No issue, sir. You require your facility to be secure. Mr. Bremen assigned me here. I am part of Eagle’s Talon Team TC1. I accepted the transfer offer from Echo Team.”
“Welcome, Hena.”The training center has an Eagle’s Talon team?
“Doctor Baker is on his way, plus Mr. Pete Walter. A staff nurse practitioner and staff PA are with Patient One,” she said. “Two staff PAs are with Patient Two. Mr. TJ Poole is also with Patient One, and Mr. Ken Clarke and Mr. Troy Bremen are with Patient Two.”
Wes nodded. Reverting to his training, he began to lock down his emotions as he headed to the back. Emotion caused mistakes.
He grimaced at the cries of pain and curses coming from one of the patient rooms. Following the noise, he slipped into the treatment room. Chad Thorn from Zulu Team was holding on to the injured operator’s hands to prevent him from stopping the medical team. Sweat was causing the black and green face paint to drip down the operator’s haggard features. Wes agonized between being the boss who wanted to know why this happened, and the medic who had one desire: to help the injured.
“Get that IV. You need to get him some relief,” TJ yelled.
Pete was holding stabilization on the injured man’s femur to prevent it from breaking through the skin. Seeing Wes, he looked up at the sky. “Crockett, fractured femur. We’ve got four of dilaudid immediate release on board. And…”
Wes turned on his heel and ran. Before the door closed, he could hear the male healthcare provider say, “Wow, that was helpful. The boss has a weak stomach.”
Wes returned a minute later with a traction splint in hand. Ignoring the other medical staff, he spoke to the patient. “How long have you been on Zulu Team?”
With years of experience under his belt, Wes questioned the operator to get him out of his head. His expression told him he remained in agony, but his fear was coming under control.
“Pete and I are doing the work. Curse all you want. Thorn, don’t let him sit up.” Wes applied the traction splint, stabilizing the fracture and decreasing some of the painful muscle spasms.
“Do we have that IV?” Pete’s Boston accent sharpened.
“Nurse, toss me a start kit and a 16-gauge.” Wes pulled the operator’s arm from his sleeve. Pete repeated the same motions on the man’s other side. “Pete, you drawing blood, or me?” Wes hyper-focused on his task. Nothing else mattered at the moment.
“I got it. Get me one milligram dilaudid IV followed by three milligrams per hour,” Pete said as he drew blood.
“Nice slow breaths.” Wes applied a nasal cannula and wrapped the BP cuff around the operator’s upper arm. After he pressed a button, it inflated.
“Thanks, Mr. Crockett.” The injured man breathed heavily with relief.
“You’re welcome. Mr. Thorn will help you make some calls.” Wes offered a reassuring smile.
Medical Director Sam Baker ran in the door. “Give me the bullet.”
Now with the patient under control, Wes stepped into the corridor to go check on Gwen North, the other injured.
Inside her room, he found Ken Clarke tight into Desi Barrett’s personal space. Troy sat beside Gwen, the look on his face pained. Gwen’s pale skin was marred by a large bandaged wound to her brow. The more disconcerting injury was the bruise developing toward the back of her left ear.
“Do we know what happened?” Wes asked Troy. His eyes focused on the monitors and the medical staff’s movements. Troy’s distress reminded him of Eleanor. He was a failure at keeping his worry buried.Focus,he warned himself.
“Kip is taking statements. She and Operator Hopper tumbled from the second-floor roof ledge,” Troy said.
Wes noted Troy’s hand was wrapped around Gwen’s. “What’s her condition?”
