Still, she reached to her chest, pulling out her combat bandage. Ripping the plastic package open with her teeth, she tossed it to the woman. "We'll send help as soon as we can."
The woman took the bandage, saying something in the local language that Linda didn't understand, but understood perfectly. It was a combination of thank you, what the hell's happening, and can you help my daughter? Linda wished she could answer.
"We'll be back."
She and Hollywood swept three more buildings before rallying with the rest of the team and squad, using the buildings for cover as the rest of Charlie company swept the hills.
It was a tense hour, and Linda's heart never stopped hammering as she tried to keep her team safe, keeping them behind cover and their weapons at the ready. After about fifteen minutes, Orkin came up, staying low as he jogged between buildings.
"What's the sitch, Castellanos?"
"The buildings are nothing but civilians, one wounded little girl," Linda replied, staying on a knee behind the cinderblock wall she was currently using for cover. "The locals are staying low, not leaving their homes."
"The local honcho told them to," Orkin said. "Linc came by, gave me the rundown. The air crew had to evac, rebels were on their ass, and got taken to the big building in the middle by the villagers. One of the crew's got a broken arm. Rebels attacked, and what passes for two local cops fought them off with the air crew, but people got wounded. Doc's treating them now, and will get to your little girl next. Where's she shot?"
"The side..." Linda started before her emotions swelled up and she fought back a sob.
She thought of Brutus again, wondering if her heightened emotions were pregnancy hormones or just the raw humanity of seeing a child caught in the crossfire of adult conflicts.
Clearing her throat, she gave Orkin a thumbs up. "Hooah."
"Okay, just keep an eye… hey, rain's letting up," Orkin noted, glancing at the sky. It was raining less, the fat drops drifting off to a gentle shower.
"Take it for a good sign, right?"
"Right."
Orkin moved on and Linda kept her watch, checking on the other four members of her team until Doc, the attached medic from the battalion command, came by with one of the locals.
"You've got a wounded civilian?" he asked, and Linda nodded. "Where?"
Linda led them to the house, where the mother had pressed Linda's bandage against the girl's wound. The girl was still conscious, but looked weaker, and Linda's throat tightened as Doc went to work, looking the girl over.
Doc called for an IV, motioning for the father to stand. While the mother held the little girl and the local man translated, Doc examined the wound with gentle, careful movements. Linda watched the little girl's face—so brave despite the pain, so innocent in a world that should never have hurt her.
Doc spoke reassuringly as he worked, explaining that the wound appeared clean and treatable. He administered medications through the IV to help with clotting and prevent infection, working quickly but thoroughly.
"If she's lucky, she'll recover," Doc said softly, finishing the bandaging. He handed additional supplies to the translator and turned to Linda. "Come on Castellanos, we need to go."
Linda nodded, wiping at her eyes as tears started to flow. She couldn't hold them back, her heart just ripped apart at the pain and anguish in the little girl's face. But there was nothing she could do as she and Doc retreated to the village headquarters, where the rest of the platoon was loading up. She saw the downed aircrew, including their priority target, the Assistant Secretary of State who looked more than a little rattled by the whole ordeal.
There's someone who's not leaving Washington for a long time, Linda thought bitterly.Lucky fucker. Hope you enjoy Georgetown.
She thought of Brutus back home, how he'd understand this moment without her having to explain it. How he'd wrap those strong arms around her and just listen. The thought both comforted and pained her, he was so far away when she needed him most.
Climbing into her vehicle, they had a new passenger, Sergeant Lincoln, who gave up the space in his vehicle for the air crew.
"Let's roll," Linc told Goodman, who drove quickly. It wasn't quite as fast as when they'd roared into the village, but as the platoon retreated, Linda was grateful to see other trucks join the convoy.
Still, as they drove, Linda couldn't help but think of the haunted looks of the villagers. Americans had come to their village, bringing with them nothing but pain and destruction. The most that the platoon could do was offer gauze and some antibiotics.
That was it.
"What'll happen to the village?" Linda asked Sergeant Lincoln. "The rebels?"
"The lieutenant said Major Kirk's in contact with the government," Linc replied. "Government troops may or may not come through to assist, since the government is supposed to be our buddies. We'll see."
Linda nodded, wiping away another tear. They reached a paved road, and as the convoy started back towards the airfield, she couldn't hold it back any longer.
