Chapter 4 - A Little Help from His Friends

They'd been sitting in the same spot for over two hours, waiting. Kenny checked his friend once again, bowed his head to ask for help, trying desperately to hold on to that last thread of hope. O'Neal wiped the sweat off of the unconscious pilot's face, then pushed himself off the ground and stood, gently laying Leo down. Suddenly, he stopped, pausing as if something was tickling his subconscious. A low, rumbling sound, far in the distance. Familiar. Slowly, a smile crept across his face for the first time in days. "Leo, you hear that. They're here."

Kenny turned, searching the sky for their potential rescuers. Suddenly, there they were, two of the most beautiful pieces of flying machinery he'd ever laid eyes on. "Come on," he encouraged, "we're goin' home." O'Neal picked the injured man up off the ground, wrapped his arms around Leo's chest and dragged him toward the clearing.

As the two Hueys set down and the prop wash from the blades pushed the tree branches around, the lieutenant was filled with a growing sense of dread. The hair on the back of his neck began to rise … without turning he knew they were being watched. Kenny stopped just long enough to pick up the injured pilot, throwing him over his shoulder, and took off running.

"Look out!"

Lieutenant O'Neal heard the warning in front of him too late …a burst of AK gunfire erupted to his left. There was no where to hide - to stop now meant certain death. Kenny ran as fast as his exhausted body would allow, adrenaline pumping, eyes focused on the open door only a few yards away. Two soldiers jumped out of the helicopter, brandishing their weapons, returning the fire from the jungle, allowing the downed airmen to reach the side of the 'copter.

"Come on, move!" bellowed the sergeant as he and his corporal grabbed either side of Kenny, rushing him through the door.

O'Neal felt Leo being lifted from his shoulder as he was slammed to the floor of the Huey.

"Go, go, GO!!"

"Wait, you can't leave them!" Kenny protested as he realized they were taking off without the two gunmen who had protected them.

"They're headed to Junior. Go, Goddammit!!"

A final burst of gunfire slammed into the helicopter as it left the ground.

"We've been hit!" the chopper gunman reported, returning ground fire.

"He needs help up there. MOVE!"

"No, it's all right! Just get us out of here!"

The Huey groaned with the effort, but quickly took to the air. They headed toward the medical evac area, knowing that the two men they had just picked up were in dire need of attention.

The corporal ripped open Leo's flight suit and began his assessment. He re-bandaged the injured man's leg and checked the rest of his battered and bruised body.

"How's he doin'?" shouted Kenny when they were out of immediate danger.

The medic on board shook his head, "Hard to say. I've seen worse survive."

The sergeant was busy on Leo's other side as he started an IV of saline solution and readied a bottle of plasma. "He's pretty dehydrated, and he's got a helluva temp."

"I tried to get some water in him, but he's been sweatin' it out as fast as I could put it in. He's been out of it most of the time."

"Yeah, looks like he's lost a lot of blood from that leg wound. Infected too. How long you two been out here?" he questioned, handing a canteen of water to Kenny.

"What's today?"

"Thursday."

O'Neal took a long, slow drink of water, and thought distractedly it was just about the best thing he'd ever tasted. "Got shot down Monday night."

"Three days? He get this when you ejected?"

"I don't know. Probably, yeah."

"It's a wonder he made it this far. Must have an iron will."

"He's got some special people to go back to."

"Don't we all?"

"Yeah."

A sudden, unexpected flurry of movement to Kenny's right caught their attention.

"Hey! Hold on!" the sergeant yelled.

"Nooo!!" Leo cried as he began frantically thrashing about uncontrollably, threatening to pull his IV lines out.

"Dammit! Help me here!" the corporal screamed.

Kenny moved in quickly and just as he had done in the jungle, laid on top of Leo. "Hold on, Mac," he shouted, " these are the good guys! Don't fight 'em. Were on our way home!"

Suddenly, Leo went ridged, his eyes rolling back in his head.

"Aw, fuck!" the sergeant cursed. "He going into …"

Leo seized, his muscles contracting violently.

"He's having convulsions! Get off him!"

Kenny rolled to the side and watched as the two medics administered medicine in an effort to control the seizures. "What's happening?" he yelled.

"Fever's sent him into convulsions," the corporal yelled as he jammed a tongue depressor between Leo's teeth. "He's not allergic to anything that's not on his tags, is he?"

"Leo McGarry's not allergic to anything except the North Vietnamese Army."

The corporal pulled the empty syringe from the IV line. "We've got to get antibiotics into him. You're sure he's not allergic to anything?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, caused we talked about it not that long ago," Kenny shouted over the noise of the helicopter engines. "Said he'd seen one of our buddies have an allergic reaction to some Vietnamese food in town one night. Guy almost died before they could get him back to base. Said he was glad he wasn't allergic to anything."

Leo gradually settled down as the medicine took effect. With the wooden stick removed, the corporal checked to make sure the injured man in his care hadn't swallowed his tongue. "This guy's burning up. Got any ice left in that thing?"

"Not much, but here. Try it."

The medic grabbed the small bag of ice and laid it on Leo's chest, near his neck in an effort to lower the Captain's temperature.

"How far is it?" Kenny questioned.

"Won't be long now," came the conditioned response.

Too long, Kenny thought to himself. He leaned in close and reached for Leo's hand. "Hold on, Mac. You're almost home," he whispered. Kenny spent the rest of the flight praying as he watched his friend struggle to breathe.