Allowing his rifle to hang loosely from its thick strap, he reached around to the small of his back to his on-belt med pouch. Pulling hard on the tab of fabric centered at the bag’s bottom edge, he yanked the plastic blowout kit free and brought it around.
Using his teeth, Logan separated the bag’s plastic zip seal before securing the bag between his thighs. With it held tightly in place, he reached into the bag and began pulling out its contents until he found what he’d been searching for…
A package of QuikClot combat gauze.
With the other med supplies haphazardly discarded across Hunter’s vested chest, Logan once again used his teeth to open the small, vacuum-sealed bag. Spitting the strip of ripped plastic from his mouth, he held the bag in his mouth while removing the entire stack of clotting gauze at one time.
He brought it toward Hunter’s neck, nausea swirling inside his gut from what he was about to do. “This is gonna hurt, brother.” Logan swallowed past a thick knot of emotion. “I’m sorry, but—”
“Do what you…have t-to…do.”
Admiration filled his chest, knowing Hunt was prepared to handle what had to be excruciating pain. With a tip of his chin and an understanding gaze, Logan went to work doing what needed to be done.
Moving with the speed and efficiency of a highly trained operator, he lifted his blood-soaked hand away from his teammate’s neck. In an almost simultaneous move, Logan used his other hand to pack the clot-inducing gauze into the wide-open wound.
Hunter’s animalistic howl of pain became lost when more deafening gunshots hailed around them. For the next several seconds, the unknown enemy’s bullets continued traveling in their direction while Black Squadron One returned the bastards’ fire tenfold.
Logan ignored both, his focus still locked on trying to push the gauze as deep as it would go in hopes of reaching every single minute cut, hole, or tear. Because in order for this to work—for the necessary chemical reaction to take place—the material had to physically touch the damaged area.
So if he could get it in there deep enough…if the material managed to press against the place or places threatening Hunter’s existence, the clotting agent embedded inside the lifesaving product might just activate in time.
This is going to work. You’re not losing him today. You’re not losinganyof them today!
Accepting he’d done as well as he could, Logan sat back on his heels. Allowing himself one good, long, deep as fuck breath, he used the noticeable break in gunfire to his advantage and checked on the others.
“Everyone else okay?”
Four immediate affirmatives revealed Hunt was the only one who’d been hit.
“How’s our boy?” Chase yelled back from somewhere nearby.
“Took a hit to the neck!” Logan let the others know. “Stable for now, but he needs medical ASAP!”
He’d purposely avoided any reference to the wound’s potential severity, for both the team’s and Hunter’s sakes. If the other four men knew their brother was in as bad a shape as Logan feared he was, their focus would be split between the urge to kill and the instinct to protect.
Telling Hunter would only hinder the man’s ability to remain positive and fight. And right now, above all else, Logan needed his friend to keep fighting.
“Anyone see the shooter?” Lucky called out from Logan’s right. Laying several feet away, the guy was face-first in the dirt, his body partially hidden by a smaller, flatter boulder.
Before anyone could respond to Lucky’s question, an explosion took out part of an overhang several yards to the team’s south.
Sonofabitch!
Abandoning his rifle’s grip, Logan kept pressure on Hunter’s wound while trying to reach their commanding officer yet again. “TOC, we have a critical situation and need immediate air support, over!” When he was met with dead air, Logan gritted his teeth and shouted, “We have one injured, and we’re pinned down thirty yards from Washington.” The code name given to their intended surveillance location. “We need air support now, over!” Another pause and then, “TOC, do you copy?”
Twenty long seconds and more gunfire later, the mic finally,finallyclicked to life. “TOC Actual,” Lieutenant Commander Shaw’s static-laced voice was like music to his ears. “We copy, Black Squadron One. Air support has been notified and is headed to your location.”
About fucking time!“ETA?”
“Chopper’s seven minutes out.”
Logan looked back down, his gut tightening with fear when he realized Hunter’s lids had fallen shut. “Hey!” He gave his friend a hard shake. “Come on, man. Open your eyes.” Another shake. “Damn it, Hunt, you’ve gotta stay with me!”
How many times had Hunter rendered them aid while under fire? A couple dozen? More?
The man was always risking his ass to get them the care and treatment they needed in the field. But now it was Hunter’s ass on the line, and with the others forced to keep up their defenses, it was up to Logan to save his best friend’s life.
Seven minutes. Air support would be there in seven minutes. He just had to keep the man’s heart beating until then.