Finley James Hunt: 13-years-old

Oliver Blake Hunt: 8-years-old (almost 9)

Bronwyn Kate Hunt: 4-years-old (almost 5)

Ella Ray Hunt: Almost 1

Gwendolyn Sarah Hunt: Almost 1

Baby Boy Hunt: 4.5 months gestation

Chapter 88: Pain and Shock

"He's shocky. Three gunshots – abdominal that did not penetrate the abdominal wall, right kneecap and another above it on his leg. I couldn't determine the extent of the leg injuries in the field," April shared with the doctor who approached the gurney at the entrance to the C-130.

"And you are?" the Air Force doctor taking over Owen's case asked.

"I'm Dr. April Kepner, his right hand both here and at a Seattle hospital in the States. We are both trauma surgeons," Kepner offered.

"Thank you for getting him to us, Dr. Kepner. We've got him from here. You're welcome to go find a seat in the Ward," the Air Force doctor directed. The Ward housed the stable patients and any unwounded passengers.

April grimaced, "Actually, I'll be staying beside him."

"Can't allow that, Ma'am. The Ward," the doctor pointed toward the Ward, "go find a seat, soldier."

April took a step toward the officer, leaving about 12" between them. She looked up at the broad-shouldered doctor and growled, "If you think I'm leaving his side, you'd be seriously wrong…by the way, I'm not military, so don't even try ordering me around. Now we can work together, or you can step the hell away from my boss. Your choice," Kepner declared.

The doctor yelled out to a colleague, "Tony, looks like we'll have some additional hands in Critical Care on this flight."

April looked directly into the Air Force doctor's eyes with narrowed eyes, smirked, and then stated simply and plainly, "Thank you, Doctor."

She followed the soldiers pushing Owen's gurney. Owen, sedated but semi-aware and awake, mumbled, "Good going, Kepner." Offering a slight smile, Owen reached out and grasped April's hand tightly. He maintained his grasp until they arrived at the CCU.

Jackson listened to the yelling and gunshots after April put her phone on the counter. Simultaneously, he was intrigued, horrified, and thankful to know what was going on. Hearing what was happening was terrifying. Understandably, he feared for April and Owen's safety. Yet, at the same time, it was also reassuring because he received his news as it occurred rather than hours later.

At first, witnessing the scene was surreal. Jackson's heart sank when he saw Owen being knocked violently to the ground, kicked, and shot. As Owen fell, Jackson was fairly certain that Owen's head hit the hard floor abruptly. The kicking, up and down Owen's right side from hip to shoulder, was fierce. Jackson leaned his elbows on his knees and rested a hand over his mouth, whispering, "Step away, April. Slide out of there." Moments later, when he could no longer see the OR, Jackson surged with pride when he heard Owen yell at the Sudanese soldier to step away from Risa. Owen was lying on the floor in tremendous pain, yet he still attempted to protect his people.

Since April's phone was across the room from the site of the shooting, Jackson was not able to make out details. From what Jackson could piece together, Owen's injuries did not appear to be life-threatening. Jackson couldn't determine the exact location of the bullet wounds, nor their seriousness. Even so, he could hear Owen moaning in pain as they boarded the chopper. The moaning was proof Owen was alive.

The phone went dead just as the chopper rotors became so loud that words were no longer discernable. Jackson held his iPhone and nearly hyperventilated as he processed what he had just seen and heard. After he felt steady enough, he called the Red Cross number that the Army had given him. He explained that he had a recording of the event and he asked for an update. The woman on the other end of the line promised to put efforts in motion in order to obtain more news as soon as possible. When Jackson mentioned that he wanted to inform Amelia, the woman suggested that a Navy chaplain from a base not far from the Shepherd-Hunt home could join him. Since Jackson was fairly numb, he appreciated the idea of someone else being with him.

Minutes later, the Navy chaplain called Jackson and listened to his summary of the events. The two agreed to meet for a quick cup of coffee before heading to see Amelia. That way, the chaplain would have a broader understanding of the event and the two men would have a skeletal game plan for the conversation. Hopefully by then, they would also have a status update on Owen's condition. Without knowing details, but certain Owen would be processed through the American hospital in Germany, the Red Cross had already arranged for a flight to Europe for Amelia and Jackson.

Jackson shared the play-by-play of the phone call with the chaplain. Over and over again, his mind replayed the gunshots and the Marine's call for help, "We have two down, status unknown. Three others unharmed. All staff accounted for. Get us out of here pronto." He'd be in the middle of a thought or sentence and fade inward as he heard the Marine's voice. The chaplain assured Jackson that his flashbacks were a typical response as the body and mind sought to let the shocking news soak in.

On their way to Amelia's, Jackson sent a text: On my way over. Really need to talk. You'll be home?

Yep. Lynne's just about ready to take the kids to school. I'll be here with the twins. Everything ok? Amelia responded. Jackson did not text back.

When Jackson and the chaplain drove up, Lynne was backing out of the driveway. Amelia was standing in the entry of the house holding Gwen as Ella clung to her mama's knee. The three were peeking out a window in the entry and waving goodbye. Amelia giggled softly when she saw Jackson drive up – his timing was ideal. If he'd arrived a minute sooner, Lynne and the kids would have ended up visiting with him and then running late.

Jackson walked up the path to the entry and waved to the departing kiddos and their nanny. Amelia smiled as she saw Jackson approach the house. "Girls, Uncle Jackson is here!" Amelia exclaimed to the twins. Gwen began to wave, and Ella pressed her face to the window.

Then another man, in full dress uniform, walked about 15 steps behind Jackson. Amelia's morning joy and welcoming smile faded quickly into desperation and despair, Amelia put Gwen down and began uttering slowly and softly, "No…no…no…no." She was both numb and ready to burst into sobbing tears. Amelia's heart beat strongly and quickly, feeling as if it would burst out of her chest. She couldn't swallow and she felt like being sick. When she saw the chaplain, Amelia assumed that Owen was dead. The twins, hearing their mommy saying their new favorite word, began shaking their heads and echoing Amelia's exclamation. Amelia slowly opened the door. She was shaking her head as her lips quivered. As if she were giving herself a bear hug, she folded her arms tightly in front of her body. The inner edges of her eyebrows nearly touched as her brows moved toward her wrinkled nose.

"Is he…" Amelia began as she greeted her friend. Her voice croaked out the two small words and the sound was barely audible.

"No," Jackson assured her gently as he embraced her and rocked her from side to side as he whispered, "Shhhhh… hey, he's alive. Shhhhh…" The chaplain had stopped and was standing nearby.

Amelia began to gently pull out of the hug, placing her fisted hand over her sternum. She wiped her tears and grinned at the chaplain politely, "Please come in. I'm Amelia Shepherd-Hunt."

"Good morning, Ma'am. Chaplain Fitzgerald," the chaplain responded.

"Please, let's come sit down. Anyone want coffee?" Amelia stuttered her way through her hostess efforts. Both men nodded. Jackson scooped up the twins and led the chaplain to the dining room table. Both twins eagerly cooperated as Jackson placed them in their highchairs. They knew breakfast was on its way.

Amelia put some finger food, fruit, and Cheerios on each highchair tray, then returned to grab the coffee. After setting their cups in front of them, Amelia looked at both men curiously. She remained stunned and began slowly, "So…Owen is alive. Thank God. But there's a reason you're both here."

"Before we discuss details," the chaplain explained gently, "let's emphasize that both of your spouses are indeed alive." Jackson and Amelia nodded.

Jackson added, "Amelia, I was on the phone with April. She called me at 5:30 this morning. I could tell something was off. April held back and seemed to really watch her words. While we were talking, a group of four Sudanese soldiers entered the OR. Within just 3 or 4 minutes, there was arguing and gunfire. One of the nurses was killed and Owen was pushed to the ground and shot multiple times. He responded to the pain and I heard him as they boarded a helicopter."

"That means he screamed out in pain, doesn't it? Don't sugar coat this for me, Avery," Amelia insisted seriously.

"Yeah, the pain appeared to be intense. One of the soldiers also kicked him multiple times," Jackson shared sadly. Amelia set her coffee cup down and put both hands over her mouth and nose. She breathed deeply and slowly and glanced at the chaplain. She wondered what he would add.

The chaplain grinned softly and said, "Owen had been told their area was being evacuated the next morning and that Marine guards were on their way to protect the medical crew until then. The Marines arrived as the fighting and threats from the Sudanese soldiers escalated. The Marines were able to reestablish a safe environment and arrange for a rescue chopper. The entire group was in the chopper within 10-15 minutes of the start of the encounter. We are working hard to determine the group's current location and status. I'm hoping to receive a call any minute with additional news."

Everyone took a sip of coffee. For a split second, before the babies began babbling and chatting, the room was silent.

"I…I have so many questions, but it sounds like there aren't many answers right now," Amelia observed numbly.

"Pardon me," the chaplain interjected as he stood up and walked away to answer a call.

"Jackson…" Amelia sighed. "I… I…" Amelia stopped and shook her head slowly. Words weren't coming out.

Jackson reached for her hand and held it as he looked into her eyes, "Details are nice to have, but let's stay focused on the positive: they were able to leave the area and they are both alive, ok?" Amelia was speechless as she maintained eye contact. Her hands returned to her nose and mouth as she let the news sink in.

After a minute or two, Amelia flatly uttered, "I don't know what to do."

"You won't go through it alone. I'm here. I'll be here, I promise. One step at a time," Jackson assured.

Amelia glanced at Jackson desperately, "When can I see him? I want to see him. I'll fly anywhere, go anywhere…"

Jackson grinned, realizing he had not mentioned Germany. "The Red Cross has booked us tickets for Saarbrucken, the airport near Landstuhl – the US hospital facility in Germany." Amelia nodded as Jackson continued, "Unless you'd like to change the flight, which you have an option to request, we'll fly out tomorrow night at 7pm. That will put us in Germany at 5am Friday."

"They sprung for the red eye flights, eh?" the Everyday Amelia quipped. Jackson chortled then grinned at his friend.

The chaplain returned to the table and apologized for stepping away. He shared, "I have an update that will be reassuring. Dr. Avery, your wife is unharmed and is assisting medevac doctors as they tend to other patients on board. Dr. Shepherd-Hunt, your husband is stable and well medicated, apparently making jokes and chatting away."

"That's my Owen," Amelia smiled and shook her head. Chuckling, she rolled her eyes and held a hand in the air. "I bet he's pumped full of pain meds and feeling fine."

The chaplain continued, "He was shot in three locations: the upper right leg, the right knee, and, perhaps this will make more sense to you than it does to me, through the abdominal muscles but not wall."

"That's very good news," Jackson sighed.

Amelia softly explained, "A gunshot wound that penetrates the abdominal wall can damage organs, cause infection, and be a challenge to control. A shot through the muscle looks horrible and is extremely painful but is easily treatable."

The chaplain nodded and grinned. He concluded, "Right now, they are on a C-130 that is medically equipped and staffed. They are headed to Camp Lemmonier in Djibouti. There is a medical facility there that will provide Role 2 level care, lab work and advanced imaging. After a night or two in Djibouti, Major Hunt will be transported to Landstuhl in Germany." Jackson grinned as he squeezed Amelia's hand.

Amelia let out a loud and deep sigh, "Thank you so much, Chaplain. When can I speak to him?"

"Usually when WIAs arrive at Lemmonier, they are able to call home. My guess is that you'll be hearing from him sometime after 11am today. I'm sure he's anxious to be in touch," the chaplain shared.

After a bit of small talk and a brief discussion about the emotional upheavals of deployment, the chaplain gently asked if he could offer a prayer. Together, the three joined hands. To varying degrees and each with their own understanding, they trusted God was somehow at work in the midst of the crisis. The chaplain excused himself after providing Amelia with his contact information. He encouraged her to contact him at any time day or night if he could help. She saw him to the door and thanked him again.

"Do you mind if we wait here together for them to call?" Jackson asked Amelia.

"I think that's a spectacular idea. However, if you stay here, you run the risk of being drafted for kid assistance," Amelia teased with a playful grin as she threw a wet washcloth his way.

Jackson laughed softly, sipped some coffee, then responded, "Deal."