Ok, no amount of apologizing can make up for just how long it took me to update this. Hope it was worth the wait. And I must add that your reviews were truly amazing and I appreciated each and every one.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine. Anything that you don't recognize isn't theirs.
Ch. 7 – Deliverance from Above
Sound came roaring back suddenly to Temperance's ears. The sharp, harsh sound of gunfire from Jamie and Luke's guns was almost too loud and she felt herself cringing at each retort. It seemed ages passed as they emptied their guns in the direction of the shots that had come her way. Finally, they stopped and the silence that followed was deafening. She could hear the blood pumping in her ears and she wondered if her heartbeat was audible to the pair of men lying stretched out before her, their guns still aimed at the rock formation she'd been admiring only minutes before. After waiting a few minutes to determine if there would be any more attacks from their unseen shooter, the pair stood up. Luke immediately went towards the shelter that the shooter had used. Jamie turned towards her and she watched him stare at her in shock.
The pain from the wound in her shoulder throbbed insistently; she could feel blood pouring out of it and seeping into her shirt, leaving it warm and sticky. The shot in her leg had resulted in a much sharper pain that seemed to close out all other sensation although Brennan was vaguely aware of the sensation of moisture from the blood she was losing there as well.
Jamie opened and closed his mouth soundlessly several times in succession and Brennan was oddly reminded of the goldfish she'd had for three weeks when she was nine. Jamie finally found his voice and then he began shouting, loudly, in a voice roughened by fear, "Luke! Luke! LUKE!"
Luke turned and his gaze went from the petrified, white face of his partner to the forensic anthropologist still lying on the ground bleeding. For a moment his mind went blank with shock and then he realized that there was no one there to help her except them for the moment and that the longer he stood there staring at her, the more time she was losing. He quickly jogged over the uneven terrain towards the downed woman. He knelt down beside her and, with Jamie's help, slowly rolled her onto her back.
"Dr. Brennan?" he asked gently.
"Yes," she replied, the word coming out harshly, her pain audible.
"How much can you tell me about your injuries?"
"Wound… in the shoulder. Through and through. Shot in the leg. I think… I think the bullet may have frac… fractured and lodged itself in… my tibia," Brennan recited as though she were making a report about a set of remains on her examination table at the Jeffersonian.
"Alright," Luke said, a million thoughts rushing through his mind. "Alright," he said again.
Jamie stared at her, his eyes still wide, his face pale. His hands were shaking as he pulled off his jacket and pressed it to the hole in her shoulder. His eyes met hers and she attempted to smile in order to reassure him but it quickly turned into a grimace as a fresh wave of pain rolled over her. Turning her gaze back to Luke she found his face set in determination, an expression she found reassuring.
Luke stood up and sliding off his own pack pulled out a t-shirt and tore a long strip off of it. Kneeling down next to Brennan, he wrapped it tightly around her wounded leg several times and then knotted it in a makeshift tourniquet. He then replaced Jamie's hands on her shoulder with his own and quietly told the other man to finish assembling the stretcher.
Brennan absently watched his face as he knelt over her. She forced out her demand quickly, "We're taking the bones with us."
Luke looked down at her confused, her statement having nothing to do with all the thoughts rushing through his brain.
"What?"
"The bones. They have to come… with us. Can't leave them… to be… destroyed."
Luke quickly caught up to the anthropologist's train of thoughts. Through her pain she was still thinking about the importance of the skeletal remains she had just finished unearthing. If they left them on the mountainside there was good chance that the shooter, wherever he'd gone, would either take them or destroy them.
"How do we take them with us?"
"On stretcher," she hissed out, her eyes now closed against the pain.
"Dr. Brennan, you're going on the stretcher."
"With me," the anthropologist insisted, the steel evident in her voice.
Luke stared at the stretcher Jamie was assembling. There would be room for both the injured woman and the remains that she'd prepared for transport but the remains would have to lie almost entirely on top of her.
"Dr. Brennan, are you sure…?"
"Yes," she said firmly, her eyes a determined icy blue.
"Ok, you're the boss," Luke replied, attempting to lighten the moment.
A ghost of a smile crossed Brennan's face before she again closed her eyes against the pain and pressed her lips together until they were white. Luke glanced up at Jamie who nodded that the stretcher was ready. He picked it up on one side and brought it to the pair on the ground. Lying it next to Temperance, he then crouched down on the same side as Luke, near her knees.
"Ok Temperance, we're going to move you onto the stretcher but I need you to do something for me," Luke said.
"You called me Temperance," the anthropologist murmured.
"Yes, I did. You can file a report on my violation of protocol later but right now…"
"What do I need… to do?"
"You need to apply pressure to that wound in your shoulder for us, ok?" Luke asked, lifting Brennan's hand up to replace his two on her shoulder. Her fingers tightened on the fabric, and Luke momentarily squeezed her hand lightly before turning his attention to Jamie.
"On the count of three. One, two, three."
Booth stared out the window at the ground passing below him. The letter from Brennan was still in the back pocket of his jeans, well-worn after the countless times he'd read it on the plane and now random phrases from it ran through his mind. He could almost hear her voice and it kept whispering his name. Shaking his head, he refocused his gaze on the ground and spotted a white jeep speeding along what he assumed to be a bumpy road.
Booth gritted his teeth as the jeep dropped into another massive pothole and then turned with a wide grin towards Hank who sat beside him on the seat looking slightly ill. Booth caught the other man's gaze and couldn't help but laugh before they were assaulted by yet another bone-jarring rattle of their military jeep. He let out a sigh of relief as he caught sight of the compound ahead of them.
He'd volunteered to go with the two army corporals assigned to pick up his friend but now he wished he'd remained at the camp instead. He wasn't entirely sure he'd ever stop vibrating. As the jeep jerked to a halt alongside the small group of other vehicles already collected on the fringe of the encampment, both men let out sighs of relief.
Hank swung out of one side and Booth grabbed one of his bags as the pair headed towards the small shack that had been provided for them. Booth whistled absent-mindedly and waved at the familiar face of the small girl who still clung to her doll standing on the border of the camp. Hank glanced in her direction and a ghost of a smile danced across his face for a few seconds. Both men treasured the rare moments of purity that they encountered. Staring down the scope of the rifle for a living rarely gave them a chance to see anything but the scum of the earth and their horrible final moments.
"You know Booth, you could just go home now. Obviously, they'll know a quality shot when they see one and once they've seen me they won't need you," Hank teased.
"I see your ego hasn't shrunk any," Booth chuckled.
"Seriously, do you know why they called use here?" Hank asked.
"No. We're supposed to be briefed on it this afternoon. Just enough time for you to take one of your old man naps," Booth said with a laugh.
"Mock my naps now, but you'll regret not having one yourself later."
"Sure."
Booth shook his head to clear it of the ghostly images from his past. He couldn't help but think that Bones had been right after all. This country was bringing back memories he had no desire to remember.
Temperance strove to remember a time when she hadn't felt such overwhelming pain and couldn't. Her brain was completely absorbed by the constant waves of agony that continued to roll over her, although she did notice the fringe sensation of feeling colder despite the sun beating down upon her warmly. She bit her lip hard as Jamie stumbled slightly over a small root.
Luke sighed in relief when he caught sight of the white jeep up ahead. They had descended the mountain in record time, somehow turning the half hour hike into a fifteen-minute high-speed trek.
He turned to speak over his shoulder, "We're almost there, Temperance."
He couldn't tell if the forensic anthropologist made any sign of acknowledgement of his statement. She'd grown increasingly quiet and he noticed her lower lip was raw, red, and bleeding from where she'd bitten down on it against the pain. Her skin was an alarming shade of white and he hurried his pace toward the ever-nearer jeep.
Finally arriving at the white beacon that had been his sole goal, he and Jamie gently set the litter on the ground. They removed the skeletal remains that had lain atop her during their hike down and gingerly placed them in the trunk space of the jeep. The pair of army captains then turned to the woman who was still lying on the ground. Luke noted with alarm that she was beginning to shiver slightly.
"She's going into shock," he whispered to Jamie, the fear evident in his voice.
Jamie felt his stomach churn and realized that their time was running out quickly.
Luke crouched down near Brennan's head and spoke lowly, "Ok Temperance. We're going to have do this again."
"Do what?" she asked, her voice sounding distant.
"We're going to lift you into the jeep."
"Mmm," the anthropologist murmured and then started to say something incomprehensible.
"Ready Jamie?" Luke said, turning his attention to his other companion, who nodded roughly.
They hoisted the small woman into the back of the jeep, where Luke remained with her, cradling her head and applying even pressure to the wound in her shoulder that continued to bleed at a frightening rate. Jamie in turn quickly dragged the stretcher into the passenger seat and then slid into the driver seat himself. Turning the engine over and hitting the gas pedal, he simultaneously reached for the radio.
"Attention headquarters, we are in need of an immediate med-evac. One woman, shot twice. We are heading south towards the compound near Mount Kilasnikov. Request rendez-vous with chopper en route. I repeat, we need an immediate med-evac."
Booth started as the radio in the cockpit crackled to life.
"Base to chopper 2417, what is your location?"
Brad answered quickly and the pair waited as the silent remained silent for almost a minute.
"Chopper 2417, we are re-routing you for an emergency med-evac. We have one man, shot twice. They're headed south towards Camp Big K traveling by jeep. Please pick them up immediately and fly to the hospital in Pristina."
"10-4 base. Chopper 2417 changing course now."
Brad shot an apologetic glance towards his friend, "Sorry Booth, you're going to have to wait just a little bit longer before you can meet up with your bone lady."
Booth nodded understandingly, "This guy needs us. Let's go."
Brad grinned as he swerved the chopper further north to intercept the jeep racing towards the camp.
Luke squeezed Brennan's shoulder tighter. His hands were slippery with her blood and he felt her cool, clammy skin beneath his. It seemed like weeks since they'd left the mountain and every jolt from the road made the lump in his throat jump higher. He couldn't remember when the woman in his arms had begun to mutter feverishly but it frightened him to his core. He knew that once she went into shock there was a good chance she would die before she got to a doctor.
"Polo. Polo. I'm sorry… so sorry, Booth. Booth. Booth. Booth."
That one word had crossed her lips an uncountable number of times during their short drive. He didn't know what it meant but she had been apologizing, pleading, and weeping for that one word. Her eyelids fluttered open and closed every few minutes and her piercing blue gaze that stared at nothing frightened him almost as much as the growing blossom of crimson that was soaking through her clothes.
He heard Jamie let out a whoosh of breath and then heard the familiar beat of helicopter rotors coming towards them. He too let out a sigh of relief and patted the woman's good shoulder lightly.
"Hang on," he whispered, "we're getting closer."
Booth waited until Brad had set the chopper down perpendicular to the oncoming jeep before he leapt out of his seat and opened the side door and hung his head out. He watched as the driver jumped out quickly and wrestled a stretcher from the passenger seat. He then approached the back seat of the vehicle and he and another man lifted the wounded individual up and onto the stretcher. For a brief moment he thought he saw a familiar flash of auburn, which caused the gnawing ball of anxiety in the pit of his stomach to return, but he deemed it irrational and waited for the pair with the injured man between them to approach the chopper.
Standing half bent over in the opening in the side of the chopper, the FBI agent watched as the pair grew closer, the panic and fear evident in their every step. He'd been in their shoes more times than he cared to count and he knew just how much of a relief the big red chopper appeared. The man at the head end of the stretcher finally approached the door and he turned round and awkwardly hopped up into the helicopter. Booth focused on keeping the man from falling over and losing his grip on the stretcher while also making sure that there would be enough room for all four of them in the main part of the chopper in amongst the medical supplies. It was not until the second man had climbed inside that Booth turned for his first glimpse of the injured man.
It was at that moment his world stopped. Lying there before him was the subject of hundreds of nightmares that had haunted his nights after particularly dangerous cases. The familiar, delicate, feminine features were a shocking shade of white set against the auburn hair that he'd dreamt of running his fingers through.
All of the breath in his lungs rushed out of his mouth and he barely managed to gasp, "Bones."
Sorry to leave it hanging there. I promise (really, I do) to have some more up very soon. I'm on Winter Break so I have plenty of times. But your comments, suggestions, bribes and anything else you care to throw my way will definitely motivate me to write faster. So what are you waiting for? Hit that button and review!
