Flashback- Chapter 21
A/N: For those of you have been so faithful in following this story, I felt it important to give some of Petersen's back story here. I apologize to those of you who have been wondering what's been going on with Grissom. I hope that you find it interesting and gives you some insight on Petersen. Please be kind and leave a review. Take care.
Taking a quick glance over his shoulder, Lieutenant William Murphy watched the rest of his squadron stealthily maneuver and melt into the darkness. Alone in the gathering darkness, he sighed and returned to his vigil over the desert terrain. His men had performed heroically and the lieutenant was immensely proud of them despite the fact that the mission had failed miserably. They could be proud that they had been able to, at least temporarily, stop the pilfering of needed food and medical supplies to the local village, but they had been betrayed by one of the locals who had ties to the Taliban.
Murphy shook his head at his own stupidity. Usually an excellent judge of character, the lieutenant had been completely fooled by his contact in the village. A year of undercover and infiltration wasted because he had allowed himself to be too trusting. His cover had been blown and, as a result, his men had to be evacuated. They were hiking to a rendezvous point which had been pre-planned. Unfortunately, Sergeant Petersen had been injured and had been left in the cave that they had used as a base camp. The sergeant had taken a shot in the shoulder and would not be able to make the five mile hike to where the pick up point had been arranged. Murphy stayed behind to create a diversion for the rest of the men to escape despite the protestations of his men. Besides, someone needed to stay with Petersen to guide CSAR to their location.
Creeping slowly back towards the cave, he kept a careful eye out for any movement. He needed to get back to Petersen and check his condition. The man had been given pain medication and had been resting comfortably. The man had suffered a gunshot through the shoulder and had lost a great deal of blood. They had been able to stop the bleeding, but the blood loss had left the man weak. Petersen had been alert enough realize that he would only slow the company down with his injury. Willingly, he had stayed behind but protested when Murphy insisted on staying behind with him.
Murphy quickly entered the cave and was greeted with a hoarse whisper, "Murph, you still have time to go with the rest of the company. Just leave me with plenty of ammunition. I'll be fine."
In the dim light of the enclosure, Murphy observed the sergeant as he sat propped up near the entrance. Even in the semi-darkness, the lieutenant could see the pain-drawn face of his sergeant.
"Shhh…you should be resting, Pete," chided the lieutenant softly. "CSAR will be here before you know it, and everything will be okay. Rest easy, okay?"
Petersen shook his head. "Murph, it was my own mistake that got me in this mess. You shouldn't have to pay for that."
Murphy sat down next to the wounded sergeant and checked over the man's wound. Looking at him, Murphy softly whispered, "I think you should stop thinking that way. My decisions put us all in this mess and jeopardized the lives of all the men…"
"But you…'" Petersen tried to interrupt.
"Stop…it doesn't matter now, and besides, I'm ordering you to stop, and yes, I'm pulling rank. End of discussion," Murphy said with a slight smile.
Petersen nodded reluctantly and pressed his lips together. Murphy crept back to the entrance and kept a quiet vigil.
Some four hours later, Petersen was jerked awake by the sound of gunfire. The acrid smell of cordite filled the air as he heard the rat tat tat tat! coming from Murphy's rifle. Shots ricocheted off the cave entrance. He could see Murphy's silhouette against the flashes of gunfire that seemed to be coming in from all directions. The lieutenant was hunkered down as shots ricocheted around him. Occasionally, he would rise up, take aim quickly, and fire a succession of shots. Almost immediately, the sounds of agony would echo through the night air as the bullets found their mark.
A rush of adrenalin enabled Petersen to push himself up and use the cave wall for support. Grabbing his rifle which was nearby, the injured man stumbled his way towards the lieutenant. Dizziness slowed his movement down as he paused for it to pass. Shaking his head to clear it, Petersen kept his head down and crouched down, reaching Murphy who was still shooting potshots into the darkness. The lieutenant's aim was deadly as almost every time he rose up to take a shot, the bullet would find its mark as the cries of pain seemed to attest.
The harried lieutenant turned his weary head to Petersen and grunted, "Pete…think you can aim straight with that shoulder…cuz if you can't, I'd rather you get back. Can't waste the ammunition."
"I'm fine, Murph," the sergeant reassured him. To prove his point, Petersen carefully raised himself up peered momentarily out into the darkness, took aim, and fired. Almost immediately, a scream of pain erupted through the darkness. Petersen sank back down and looked back at the lieutenant with a "See, I told you I was fine," expression on his face.
Murphy nodded stiffly, and both men ducked down as several rounds ricocheted around them. Suddenly it was eerily quiet, and Murphy raised himself up slightly and peered cautiously out into the darkness. The moon would rise soon, illuminating the surrounding desert. Perhaps their attackers had retreated, realizing that the moonlight would give away more of their positions.
Murphy scanned the area for several minutes and could not detect any movement out there. He settled back down and looked back at Petersen.
"Looks like our friends out there decided to call it a night. Moon rise will be lighting up the desert out there like a Christmas tree. They'll probably wait it out, figuring we'll just hold tight."
Petersen studied his lieutenant, exhaustion evident in his slumping shoulders and pale, drawn face.
"Murph, why don't you crawl back there and rest for an hour or two. You're not going be any good exhausted as you are if they attack. I can keep watch and will let you know if anything happens."
The lieutenant smiled wanly and agreed only because he had been awake for more than 24 hours straight. He would need all his wits if they were attacked again before CSAR arrived.
Hesitantly, he softly asked, "You sure that you're up to this. You lost a lot of blood and I'm going to need you come daylight."
Petersen shook his head dismissively at Murphy. "Get some shut eye, sir, while you have the chance."
However, the quiet few minutes were a deception. As soon as Murphy retreated to the rear of the cave, shots again rang out into the night. Murphy was jerked instantly awake by the sound of gunfire and quickly made his way back to Petersen who was lying prone on the cave floor entrance staring through his rifle sight.
"Apparently they decided not to take the rest of the night off," whispered Petersen drily.
Ignoring the remark, Murphy asked, "How many do you think are out there? How are you holdin' up?"
"Can't tell how many there are. I'll live, sir," commented the sergeant quietly.
Grunting in acknowledgment, Murphy prepared to fire off another round when a sudden movement caught his attention away from his intended target. A moment later, a dull thud sounded behind them. Glancing back at the noise, Murphy's eyes grew huge at the grenade that had landed near Petersen. He quickly shoved Petersen out of the cave, heedless of the enemy on the outside, and then swiftly launched himself after his sergeant. However, he was too slow as the explosion propelled him through the air, shrapnel striking him as he was thrown.
Petersen landed with a soft thud in the brush near the entrance and then felt the concussion of the explosion. Dirt and debris rained down on him, and he blinked madly trying to make sense of what just happened. Glancing to his right, several yards away, lay the torn-up body of Murphy. Realization seared through him and uncontrollable rage took over. Heedless of his shoulder injury and running on pure adrenalin, Petersen stood up and sprayed the surrounding desert with his rifle. Numerous cries of pain and the sound of retreating footsteps filled the air.
Crying out his rage, the sergeant continued to fire his weapon until his ammunition was spent. Murphy's rifle had landed near the lieutenant and the outraged Marine made his way to it. He picked up the weapon and quickly scanned the now quiet desert. The only sound his could hear now was his own harsh gasping breaths. As the adrenalin dissipated, pain and dizziness swept over him.
Swaying slightly, Petersen staggered the few steps to Murphy. The lieutenant was lying facedown in the dirt; a pool of blood was slowly spreading from the side of his head. Ignoring his own injuries, Petersen laid Murphy's weapon down and carefully rolled the lieutenant over. Murphy had sustained a massive head wound from the flying shrapnel. There were numerous other wounds from the exploding grenade, but the head wound seemed to be the most life-threatening.
Petersen quickly checked Murphy for a pulse and was able to detect a weak, rapid one. Sobbing with relief, the sergeant slung the two rifles over his shoulder and carefully picked the wounded man up in his arms. Carefully cradling the unconscious lieutenant's head against his uninjured shoulder, Petersen slowly staggered his way back the few yards to the cave entrance.
The explosion from the grenade had caused a slight cave-in, but Petersen was able to negotiate his way over the debris and fallen rock. The major damage to the cave appeared to be at the entrance, and once Petersen had worked his way through the initial debris, he was able to find a fairly smooth area to lay the lieutenant down.
Carefully, he put Murphy down and with a flashlight was able to locate the med kit that had been thrown against the wall of the cave. He quickly cleaned the head wound and wrapped the lieutenant's head to stem the bleeding. As he sat back and inspected his work, Petersen was satisfied that he had done the best he could do for this lieutenant. He crawled back to the cave opening and kept watch over the still desert.
Petersen was startled awake from faint stirrings in the back of the cave. Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, he realized that he must have drifted off for a few minutes.
"Pete…hey Pete," came the desperate whisper, "Are you still here, Pete?"
"Yeah, Murph, I'm right here," said Petersen.
"You should have left while you had the chance," came the quiet scolding.
"I wasn't going to leave you, sir," Petersen gently retorted, "and, if you'll forgive me sir, you're in no condition to be issuing orders."
"I…I didn't think that I needed to pull rank, sergeant," was the quiet reply.
"Murph, you need to save your strength. Command will be sending CSAR soon. You just gotta hang on for when they get here. They'll be able to patch you up just fine. Concentrate on seein' that little boy of yours."
The lieutenant nodded slowly, but Petersen understood the severity of his lieutenant's injuries. He wanted to give the man something to focus on, something to give him some strength. Crawling back to Murphy, he grabbed onto the man's hand. Petersen held onto Murphy's hand tightly.
"Feel that Murphy? You draw strength from that. I'll get us out of this, you hear me?"
The lieutenant's hand felt cold, clammy, and he could hardly return the grip. Still, Petersen was encouraged by the attempt of the lieutenant to acknowledge his grasp. The Marine sergeant checked the bandages around Murphy's head and shoulder. The bleeding had at least stopped, but Petersen knew that the head wound had caused a great deal of damage. The lieutenant closed his eyes as Petersen continued to hold the man's hand. It hadn't been long since that fateful attack. The gradual lightening of sky indicated that the start of a new day had begun.
The grip on Petersen's hand slowly relaxed and then went limp. Petersen looked anxiously at his lieutenant. The injured man's breathing was shallow and rapid. Gulping down the bile that had formed in his throat, the sergeant covered the officer with a blanket and then crawled back over to the entrance to keep watch. He was beyond weary. His injuries were starting to take their toll.
Grissom watched with fascination as the Marine rocked back and forth, muttering to himself, seemingly lost in a nightmare. Carefully, the supervisor slipped the radio out of his pocket and switched it back on. While Petersen was lost in himself, now seemed to be a good time to try to get in contact with Sara, Greg, or whoever might be out there.
As the radio crackled to life, Grissom crawled as best he could just far enough away from Petersen so that he might be able to talk loud enough to be heard without startling Petersen out of his state. Closing his eyes and pressing the talk button, Grissom proceeded to call out to any Search and Rescue he was sure was on the way.