Title: A TRIP TO AFGHANISTAN (Part II)
DESPERATE HOURS
Series: A Trip to Afghanistan
Author: Piper86
Email: improvkris@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13 for violence, mild language
Classification: Harm/Mac pairing, JAG story
Spoilers: 1/2 Cup Enemy Below, 1/4 cup Lifeline, softened, 1 Tablespoon Full Engagement, 1 Teaspoon Boomerang, mix well, bake at 350*
CHAPTER II - DESPERATE HOURS
Harm couldn't see ... his eyes refused to focus. Red. Nothing but red. It was everywhere. He could barely feel his arms anymore, they had been wrapped around Mac so tightly. He continued to rock her for what seemed like hours, staring blindly at the floor a few feet in front of him.
He could still hear her voice, whispering in his ear,
"I love you ... I love you ..."
His eyes squeezed shut, head bowing ...
" ... Always remember"
Tears again burned hot on his cheeks.
"Kept ... ... you ... ... safe ... worth it."
He opened his eyes to look at her. His heart twisted in agony at the sight before him.
Her head was tilted back, falling over his right arm. Her hair was damp with sweat. It clung to her face and neck, mixing with blood from a multitude of scrapes and cuts. Bruises swirled like dark, angry clouds on her cheeks, forehead and jaw. Her lips were split and swollen. Her left arm lay slack across her chest, where it had fallen after she'd touched him the last time. Her right arm, bearing jagged red welts, was hanging down to the floor from where he held her. He could see her hand ... the one that had caressed his face in their cell ... and knew it had been crushed.
Rage flooded through him. His mind assaulted him with visions of the torture she had endured. Everywhere he looked, it was as if he was seeing it all in some twisted instant replay. The blood on the walls cried out to him, screaming his name.
Her blood.
His eyes fell on a pair of razor blades lying discarded on the floor. Blood caked on them. His gut wrenched as he realized the cause of the gaping wounds in her back. A vision flashed before him ... her face pressed into the wall, her arms held in place, her clothes being ripped ... her blood.
He shut his eyes again. He took in a ragged breath,
"Oh god, oh my Sarah. My Sarah" choking out the words between sobs. "I can't do this without you. Not any of it. I don't want to be alone. Sarah ... please"
"Rabb! Rabb! RABB!!!" Clayton Webb's voice echoed in the hallway.
The sound was getting closer. Harm didn't care. He didn't care about anything anymore. Webb appeared in the doorway, breathing heavily and a little giddy.
"Rabb! I've been calling you for ten minutes, for Christ sakes, can't you even ... ... Oh, my holy God ..." His voice cracked as he scanned the room, his eyes finally coming to rest on Harm and the broken woman he cradled. In an instant, he was kneeling next to Harm.
"Oh no, oh no ... is she ...?"
Harm only held her tighter, his eyes vacant.
"Harm, hey ... c'mon, let me check her ..." Harm felt Webb's hand snaking through his grip around Mac, feeling for her throat. Harm didn't move. He didn't care.
Webb's fingers found the side of Mac's neck, and began pressing gently, probing ... searching ...
"Harm ... she's ... I can feel ... yes! Harm, she's still got a pulse. It's faint, but it's there. She's still with us."
Webb's words snapped the air around Harm's head. He jerked, suddenly awakened from his nightmare.
"Sarah?" he whispered. Harm gently lowered her to the ground, placing his cheek over her nose and mouth. Nothing. Nothing. Then, a faint whisper of air tickled his skin. Then another.
"MEDICS!!!" Webb bellowed, storming out of the room. Harm didn't even register Webb had gone. He was bent over Mac's face, hands gently stroking each side, pleading with her to hang on.
"That's it. That's my Marine. Keep fighting, Sarah."
The sound of several boots pounding along the hallway materialized as Webb and two SEAL medics.
"Holy shit," one of the medics cursed when he saw Mac's condition, "what are we supposed do with this?"
Harm immediately grabbed a fistful of his shirtfront, pulling their faces together.
"You HELP her, and you do it NOW, and you do it RIGHT, or I have your ASS!" he hissed.
He felt Webb's hands pulling him off the young soldier.
"Harm, step off. He'll help Mac. Let him do his job."
Harm pushed the medic away and swung around to face Webb, locking eyes with him. Harm's eyes full of rage and pain. "You ..."
Harm couldn't find words. His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms. He really, really wanted to deck Webb. But his hands wouldn't cooperate. His jaw trembled.
"Go away, Webb. Just ... just go be somewhere else for awhile."
He and Webb continued their staring contest for another few minutes, until Webb gave in with a sigh and left the room. Harm could hear him start to bark orders halfway down the corridor.
Harm turned his full attention to the soldiers working gently and quickly with Mac. His own weight suddenly became unbearable and he slumped to the floor. He pulled his knees up to his chest, his head dropping in utter exhaustion.
"Please, Sarah ..." he whispered "please ..."
The pain in his head slackened a bit as he stayed still, eyes closed. But as soon as he shifted, fiery fingers snaked their way from the base of his skull up over the top of his head. He groaned softly, moving his arms from around his knees, only to find that they were sticking to the fabric of his pants. He opened his eyes. Mac's blood was drying on his skin, his arms streaked with it.
He tried to rub some of it off, the dried flakes rolling up under his palms. There was so much of it. It brought the whole reality of what had happened to her thundering down on him again. He stood up, staggering back against the onslaught of his visions.
One of the medics turned to look at him. He rose and stepped in front of Harm.
"Commander, why don't you go get cleaned up? I'll come find you when we're done here."
"I don't want to leave her." Harm choked.
"Sir, we're doing everything we can. But it will take some time. We have to be very careful with her. There's nothing to be done right now, except wait. Go on, it will be OK."
Harm stared blankly at the young SEAL, trying to register his words. He turned and looked down at Mac. So pale. So still. Blinking, he nodded briefly and stumbled out of the room.
The afternoon sunlight plagued his eyes and head as he emerged from the building. Shielding his eyes, he made his way over to the temporary command center. He asked for a canteen of water, and proceeded to wash the blood off his arms and hands. Red rivulets dripped onto the rocks at his feet. The desert sun made quick work of drying his skin and the rocks. But a faint red color remained. He watched the pattern they made, mesmerized.
He did not notice Webb until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up, then back down at the ground.
"Harm, we found something I think ... ah, I think you need to see."
His head throbbing again, emotionally exhausted, Harm rose and followed Webb. They arrived at a small area a few yards from the cell where Harm and Mac had been held. Squinting his eyes, Harm could see some of the SEAL unit standing around a dark pile of cloth on the ground. As they drew closer, Harm could see it was a body.
"Ahmal," Webb stated quietly.
Harm's eyes went wide. They found him? Mac told me he had escaped. The leader was sure they would find him. He's dead?"
"Yes ... and has been for several hours. You said Mac told you he escaped? How did she know?"
"One of the Taliban came in and spoke to us, a little while before Mac was taken. Mac translated what he said for me."
"Harm, from what we can tell, Ahmal never left the camp. Some of our prisoners participated in his 'interrogation'. The beating he took lasted over a long period, and he died out here. One of our guys found his body hanging by the wrists out here. His ribs are crushed. They clubbed him until his lungs collapsed."
Harm's mind started to spin. The ache at the back of his head clamping down like a vise. Mac had lied to him.
"But why? Why wouldn't she tell me what happened to Ahmal? She must have known. They must have told her ... "
Webb rubbed his head with his hand, taking a deep breath.
"Harm, our indications are that your covers were never blown. They thought Mac and Ahmal were working for the new Afghan government, and using your status as a Red Cross ambassador to scout their location. Ahmal was questioned, and refused to cooperate. Once he died, they turned their attention to his 'sister'. Harm, I think ... I think she was trying to protect you. She knew there was no way out for her, and she made sure they didn't find anything out to expose you."
Harm had been staring transfixed at Ahmal's mangled body during Webb's whole speech. Everything began coming together. That was why she wouldn't tell him the last of what the Taliban leader had said. That was why she had been so desperate for him to listen to her.
He turned and walked away, leaving Webb, Ahmal and the others. He stopped several yards away, amidst a jumble of large boulders. He covered his face with his hands. Only now could he let the full impact of what Webb had said hit him.
She had expected to die, and she didn't want him to die with her. She was willing to sacrifice everything to keep him safe.
"worth it ..." her voice whispering in his mind.
He was blown away by the intensity of emotion that slammed into him. He had never known anyone who could love that much, let alone love him. Tears once again ran down his face.
"Ohhhh, Sarah ..." he moaned, "don't leave me. I would have died with you. I'd rather die with you than be here alone. I need you. Please ... Please ..."
He slumped to the ground.
An hour later, Harm felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Commander? Sir, we've done what we can for her with what we have." The young SEAL said.
Harm blinked up at him. He must have passed out. His head was pounding again from where the rifle hit him. He got up slowly and followed the SEAL back into the room where Mac lay. He couldn't see any change in her at all.
"How is she?"
"Sir, it's not good. She's experienced a lot of severe trauma, and our supplies are limited. About the only good news is that she's breathing on her own. We need to evac her, sir."
"Then let's get a helo out here ASAP, soldier,"
"It's not that simple, sir. The terrain here is hell for aircraft. We came up here after you on foot. The only real safe landing space is back down towards that village. I don't think she could stand a humvee. Sir, we'll need to stretcher her out to the village, and airlift from there."
Harm looked at the pale, motionless woman lying so helpless in front of him.
"How long do you figure it will take to get her out?"
"We'll need to go real slow, make sure she's kept still. It'll be dark soon. That will make slower going. Probably most of the night, sir."
"And the longer it takes ... the more likely she ... that she could ...?"
"I'm sorry, sir. Yes."
"Get your team together, soldier. We're wasting daylight."
"Aye Aye, Sir!" The SEAL hustled outside and scrambled his team. Before long, they returned with a stretcher. Painstakingly, they rolled Mac onto her side, slipping the stretcher under her. They secured her with belts, so she would move as little as possible.
The medics had cut away parts of her clothing, exposing more of her wounds. Harm winced at the sight of them, and said a silent prayer of thanks that at least for now she couldn't feel them.
The sun had already started to edge down over the hillsides when they got started towards the village. Harm shaded his eyes, biting his lip against the ache throbbing at the back of his head. He checked his gear, making sure he had his flashlight within reach. He took his place next to Mac's stretcher. He would not leave her for a minute.
Webb was staying behind to do "clean up". He stood at the entrance to the camp, watching the SEAL team and Harm work slowly down the slope. Harm turned around and raised his hand once in farewell. He then turned his full attention to Mac.
The journey was taking a very, very long time. Harm was going out of his mind with worry. The medics insisted they stop frequently to check on Mac's condition. Every time they halted, his heart crept into his throat, hoping she was hanging on, steeling himself in case she wasn't ...
Again her words floated in the air around him, calling to him.
You ... safe ... worth it ... ... love ... you ... ...
"Sarah," he whispered through clenched teeth, "don't go ... not without me."
So far, each time they'd checked, she was still alive. They continued to work their way down out of the hills. Around 2am, the wind began to pick up. In minutes, they were being buffeted by hard wind and stinging bits of rock and sand. The team leader called a halt.
"We can't keep going in this, sir" he yelled over the howling wind to Harm.
"We have to! She can't hold out forever. She needs help!"
"Sir, with this wind, we run a greater risk of dropping her. And that's not going to help her at all."
Harm knew the SEAL was right. He couldn't risk an accident with her. He nodded and yelled "All right, we stop."
Two SEALS took recon of the immediate area, and directed them to an outcropping of rock. A handful of caves dotted the rocks, big enough for two or three men each. They gingerly laid Mac in the cave that best sheltered her from the wind. The medics checked her over again, and hung an IV for her. Harm made his bunk right next to her, and sat down with the intention of watching her through the night.
Her left arm had been the better bet for finding a vein, so the IV was placed there. They had splinted her right hand, but it was purple and very swollen. The medic wasn't sure what kind of use she would get out of it. They had packed her back with antibiotic cream and gauze pads, hoping to ward off infection. And there were sure to be internal injuries.
Harm reached forward, brushing hair from her face. A memory flashed in his mind. Mac sitting by a stream, pale and feverish, a poacher's bullet lodged in her thigh. He had taken his bandana and soaked it in the stream, cooling her face with it. Her eyes closed, like they were now.
He had promised her then that he would get her out of the mess they were in. He made the same promise now.
"Sarah ... we're going to get you out of here, and get you well. I'm never going to let anything get in our way again."
He clenched his jaw at another memory. The two of them on the ferry in Sydney. Her eyes pleading with him to act. His own stupid fears keeping him from doing so.
"You're just like this with me, aren't you?"
"Only with you."
"I guess I should be flattered."
"You should be, Sarah."
So much time wasted over worries that were now so trivial. His inaction back then had sent her into the arms of another man. The time they'd wasted ... that HE had wasted since then. He cursed himself.
"Sarah, I'm a fool. A stupid, stupid fool. But I love you with everything I am, and I am going to make things right."
Without warning, she started coughing and gasping violently. Her body arched, shaking. Blood started to trickle out of the corner of her mouth. Her eyes flew open, not seeing, as her body writhed.
Harm jerked his hand from her face, scrambling to his knees, screaming for the medics. They came at a dead run, sliding into the cave and straight to Mac. Harm pressed himself against the wall, panting. His heart was ready to shatter. The medics cleared her airway, only to have her cough up a mouthful of blood. Her left hand clawed the air, trying to bring it closer so she could get it into her lungs. All Harm could hear were her frantic efforts to breathe, and the gurgling blood in her throat.
"Morphine! Now! Now! Now!"
They were finally able to inject the sedative, and Harm watched her body go limp. One medic turned to him.
"Commander, she's got a collapsed lung. Must be broken ribs that punctured it. We're going to intubate her. Get some more air into her that way."
Harm was shaking all over. He could only nod. The medics worked quickly, and soon had the tube in her throat, connecting the open end to a clear, soft plastic container that squeezed air into the tube.
"We'll all need to take turns with this tube, Commander" the medic told him. "If we can't keep her bagged, then she doesn't breathe."
Harm knelt down beside the SEAL, taking the bag from him. He began a slow, steady rhythm ... squeezing the bag, letting her lung fill, then empty. Squeezing again.
His eyes never left her face. He wasn't just moving air into her ... he was sending his strength into her. Willing her to live.
"Stay with me, Sarah. I need my Marine. I need you so, so much. I'm not ready to give up on you yet."
Outside the cave, the wind continued to howl.
DESPERATE HOURS
Series: A Trip to Afghanistan
Author: Piper86
Email: improvkris@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13 for violence, mild language
Classification: Harm/Mac pairing, JAG story
Spoilers: 1/2 Cup Enemy Below, 1/4 cup Lifeline, softened, 1 Tablespoon Full Engagement, 1 Teaspoon Boomerang, mix well, bake at 350*
CHAPTER II - DESPERATE HOURS
Harm couldn't see ... his eyes refused to focus. Red. Nothing but red. It was everywhere. He could barely feel his arms anymore, they had been wrapped around Mac so tightly. He continued to rock her for what seemed like hours, staring blindly at the floor a few feet in front of him.
He could still hear her voice, whispering in his ear,
"I love you ... I love you ..."
His eyes squeezed shut, head bowing ...
" ... Always remember"
Tears again burned hot on his cheeks.
"Kept ... ... you ... ... safe ... worth it."
He opened his eyes to look at her. His heart twisted in agony at the sight before him.
Her head was tilted back, falling over his right arm. Her hair was damp with sweat. It clung to her face and neck, mixing with blood from a multitude of scrapes and cuts. Bruises swirled like dark, angry clouds on her cheeks, forehead and jaw. Her lips were split and swollen. Her left arm lay slack across her chest, where it had fallen after she'd touched him the last time. Her right arm, bearing jagged red welts, was hanging down to the floor from where he held her. He could see her hand ... the one that had caressed his face in their cell ... and knew it had been crushed.
Rage flooded through him. His mind assaulted him with visions of the torture she had endured. Everywhere he looked, it was as if he was seeing it all in some twisted instant replay. The blood on the walls cried out to him, screaming his name.
Her blood.
His eyes fell on a pair of razor blades lying discarded on the floor. Blood caked on them. His gut wrenched as he realized the cause of the gaping wounds in her back. A vision flashed before him ... her face pressed into the wall, her arms held in place, her clothes being ripped ... her blood.
He shut his eyes again. He took in a ragged breath,
"Oh god, oh my Sarah. My Sarah" choking out the words between sobs. "I can't do this without you. Not any of it. I don't want to be alone. Sarah ... please"
"Rabb! Rabb! RABB!!!" Clayton Webb's voice echoed in the hallway.
The sound was getting closer. Harm didn't care. He didn't care about anything anymore. Webb appeared in the doorway, breathing heavily and a little giddy.
"Rabb! I've been calling you for ten minutes, for Christ sakes, can't you even ... ... Oh, my holy God ..." His voice cracked as he scanned the room, his eyes finally coming to rest on Harm and the broken woman he cradled. In an instant, he was kneeling next to Harm.
"Oh no, oh no ... is she ...?"
Harm only held her tighter, his eyes vacant.
"Harm, hey ... c'mon, let me check her ..." Harm felt Webb's hand snaking through his grip around Mac, feeling for her throat. Harm didn't move. He didn't care.
Webb's fingers found the side of Mac's neck, and began pressing gently, probing ... searching ...
"Harm ... she's ... I can feel ... yes! Harm, she's still got a pulse. It's faint, but it's there. She's still with us."
Webb's words snapped the air around Harm's head. He jerked, suddenly awakened from his nightmare.
"Sarah?" he whispered. Harm gently lowered her to the ground, placing his cheek over her nose and mouth. Nothing. Nothing. Then, a faint whisper of air tickled his skin. Then another.
"MEDICS!!!" Webb bellowed, storming out of the room. Harm didn't even register Webb had gone. He was bent over Mac's face, hands gently stroking each side, pleading with her to hang on.
"That's it. That's my Marine. Keep fighting, Sarah."
The sound of several boots pounding along the hallway materialized as Webb and two SEAL medics.
"Holy shit," one of the medics cursed when he saw Mac's condition, "what are we supposed do with this?"
Harm immediately grabbed a fistful of his shirtfront, pulling their faces together.
"You HELP her, and you do it NOW, and you do it RIGHT, or I have your ASS!" he hissed.
He felt Webb's hands pulling him off the young soldier.
"Harm, step off. He'll help Mac. Let him do his job."
Harm pushed the medic away and swung around to face Webb, locking eyes with him. Harm's eyes full of rage and pain. "You ..."
Harm couldn't find words. His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms. He really, really wanted to deck Webb. But his hands wouldn't cooperate. His jaw trembled.
"Go away, Webb. Just ... just go be somewhere else for awhile."
He and Webb continued their staring contest for another few minutes, until Webb gave in with a sigh and left the room. Harm could hear him start to bark orders halfway down the corridor.
Harm turned his full attention to the soldiers working gently and quickly with Mac. His own weight suddenly became unbearable and he slumped to the floor. He pulled his knees up to his chest, his head dropping in utter exhaustion.
"Please, Sarah ..." he whispered "please ..."
The pain in his head slackened a bit as he stayed still, eyes closed. But as soon as he shifted, fiery fingers snaked their way from the base of his skull up over the top of his head. He groaned softly, moving his arms from around his knees, only to find that they were sticking to the fabric of his pants. He opened his eyes. Mac's blood was drying on his skin, his arms streaked with it.
He tried to rub some of it off, the dried flakes rolling up under his palms. There was so much of it. It brought the whole reality of what had happened to her thundering down on him again. He stood up, staggering back against the onslaught of his visions.
One of the medics turned to look at him. He rose and stepped in front of Harm.
"Commander, why don't you go get cleaned up? I'll come find you when we're done here."
"I don't want to leave her." Harm choked.
"Sir, we're doing everything we can. But it will take some time. We have to be very careful with her. There's nothing to be done right now, except wait. Go on, it will be OK."
Harm stared blankly at the young SEAL, trying to register his words. He turned and looked down at Mac. So pale. So still. Blinking, he nodded briefly and stumbled out of the room.
The afternoon sunlight plagued his eyes and head as he emerged from the building. Shielding his eyes, he made his way over to the temporary command center. He asked for a canteen of water, and proceeded to wash the blood off his arms and hands. Red rivulets dripped onto the rocks at his feet. The desert sun made quick work of drying his skin and the rocks. But a faint red color remained. He watched the pattern they made, mesmerized.
He did not notice Webb until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up, then back down at the ground.
"Harm, we found something I think ... ah, I think you need to see."
His head throbbing again, emotionally exhausted, Harm rose and followed Webb. They arrived at a small area a few yards from the cell where Harm and Mac had been held. Squinting his eyes, Harm could see some of the SEAL unit standing around a dark pile of cloth on the ground. As they drew closer, Harm could see it was a body.
"Ahmal," Webb stated quietly.
Harm's eyes went wide. They found him? Mac told me he had escaped. The leader was sure they would find him. He's dead?"
"Yes ... and has been for several hours. You said Mac told you he escaped? How did she know?"
"One of the Taliban came in and spoke to us, a little while before Mac was taken. Mac translated what he said for me."
"Harm, from what we can tell, Ahmal never left the camp. Some of our prisoners participated in his 'interrogation'. The beating he took lasted over a long period, and he died out here. One of our guys found his body hanging by the wrists out here. His ribs are crushed. They clubbed him until his lungs collapsed."
Harm's mind started to spin. The ache at the back of his head clamping down like a vise. Mac had lied to him.
"But why? Why wouldn't she tell me what happened to Ahmal? She must have known. They must have told her ... "
Webb rubbed his head with his hand, taking a deep breath.
"Harm, our indications are that your covers were never blown. They thought Mac and Ahmal were working for the new Afghan government, and using your status as a Red Cross ambassador to scout their location. Ahmal was questioned, and refused to cooperate. Once he died, they turned their attention to his 'sister'. Harm, I think ... I think she was trying to protect you. She knew there was no way out for her, and she made sure they didn't find anything out to expose you."
Harm had been staring transfixed at Ahmal's mangled body during Webb's whole speech. Everything began coming together. That was why she wouldn't tell him the last of what the Taliban leader had said. That was why she had been so desperate for him to listen to her.
He turned and walked away, leaving Webb, Ahmal and the others. He stopped several yards away, amidst a jumble of large boulders. He covered his face with his hands. Only now could he let the full impact of what Webb had said hit him.
She had expected to die, and she didn't want him to die with her. She was willing to sacrifice everything to keep him safe.
"worth it ..." her voice whispering in his mind.
He was blown away by the intensity of emotion that slammed into him. He had never known anyone who could love that much, let alone love him. Tears once again ran down his face.
"Ohhhh, Sarah ..." he moaned, "don't leave me. I would have died with you. I'd rather die with you than be here alone. I need you. Please ... Please ..."
He slumped to the ground.
An hour later, Harm felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Commander? Sir, we've done what we can for her with what we have." The young SEAL said.
Harm blinked up at him. He must have passed out. His head was pounding again from where the rifle hit him. He got up slowly and followed the SEAL back into the room where Mac lay. He couldn't see any change in her at all.
"How is she?"
"Sir, it's not good. She's experienced a lot of severe trauma, and our supplies are limited. About the only good news is that she's breathing on her own. We need to evac her, sir."
"Then let's get a helo out here ASAP, soldier,"
"It's not that simple, sir. The terrain here is hell for aircraft. We came up here after you on foot. The only real safe landing space is back down towards that village. I don't think she could stand a humvee. Sir, we'll need to stretcher her out to the village, and airlift from there."
Harm looked at the pale, motionless woman lying so helpless in front of him.
"How long do you figure it will take to get her out?"
"We'll need to go real slow, make sure she's kept still. It'll be dark soon. That will make slower going. Probably most of the night, sir."
"And the longer it takes ... the more likely she ... that she could ...?"
"I'm sorry, sir. Yes."
"Get your team together, soldier. We're wasting daylight."
"Aye Aye, Sir!" The SEAL hustled outside and scrambled his team. Before long, they returned with a stretcher. Painstakingly, they rolled Mac onto her side, slipping the stretcher under her. They secured her with belts, so she would move as little as possible.
The medics had cut away parts of her clothing, exposing more of her wounds. Harm winced at the sight of them, and said a silent prayer of thanks that at least for now she couldn't feel them.
The sun had already started to edge down over the hillsides when they got started towards the village. Harm shaded his eyes, biting his lip against the ache throbbing at the back of his head. He checked his gear, making sure he had his flashlight within reach. He took his place next to Mac's stretcher. He would not leave her for a minute.
Webb was staying behind to do "clean up". He stood at the entrance to the camp, watching the SEAL team and Harm work slowly down the slope. Harm turned around and raised his hand once in farewell. He then turned his full attention to Mac.
The journey was taking a very, very long time. Harm was going out of his mind with worry. The medics insisted they stop frequently to check on Mac's condition. Every time they halted, his heart crept into his throat, hoping she was hanging on, steeling himself in case she wasn't ...
Again her words floated in the air around him, calling to him.
You ... safe ... worth it ... ... love ... you ... ...
"Sarah," he whispered through clenched teeth, "don't go ... not without me."
So far, each time they'd checked, she was still alive. They continued to work their way down out of the hills. Around 2am, the wind began to pick up. In minutes, they were being buffeted by hard wind and stinging bits of rock and sand. The team leader called a halt.
"We can't keep going in this, sir" he yelled over the howling wind to Harm.
"We have to! She can't hold out forever. She needs help!"
"Sir, with this wind, we run a greater risk of dropping her. And that's not going to help her at all."
Harm knew the SEAL was right. He couldn't risk an accident with her. He nodded and yelled "All right, we stop."
Two SEALS took recon of the immediate area, and directed them to an outcropping of rock. A handful of caves dotted the rocks, big enough for two or three men each. They gingerly laid Mac in the cave that best sheltered her from the wind. The medics checked her over again, and hung an IV for her. Harm made his bunk right next to her, and sat down with the intention of watching her through the night.
Her left arm had been the better bet for finding a vein, so the IV was placed there. They had splinted her right hand, but it was purple and very swollen. The medic wasn't sure what kind of use she would get out of it. They had packed her back with antibiotic cream and gauze pads, hoping to ward off infection. And there were sure to be internal injuries.
Harm reached forward, brushing hair from her face. A memory flashed in his mind. Mac sitting by a stream, pale and feverish, a poacher's bullet lodged in her thigh. He had taken his bandana and soaked it in the stream, cooling her face with it. Her eyes closed, like they were now.
He had promised her then that he would get her out of the mess they were in. He made the same promise now.
"Sarah ... we're going to get you out of here, and get you well. I'm never going to let anything get in our way again."
He clenched his jaw at another memory. The two of them on the ferry in Sydney. Her eyes pleading with him to act. His own stupid fears keeping him from doing so.
"You're just like this with me, aren't you?"
"Only with you."
"I guess I should be flattered."
"You should be, Sarah."
So much time wasted over worries that were now so trivial. His inaction back then had sent her into the arms of another man. The time they'd wasted ... that HE had wasted since then. He cursed himself.
"Sarah, I'm a fool. A stupid, stupid fool. But I love you with everything I am, and I am going to make things right."
Without warning, she started coughing and gasping violently. Her body arched, shaking. Blood started to trickle out of the corner of her mouth. Her eyes flew open, not seeing, as her body writhed.
Harm jerked his hand from her face, scrambling to his knees, screaming for the medics. They came at a dead run, sliding into the cave and straight to Mac. Harm pressed himself against the wall, panting. His heart was ready to shatter. The medics cleared her airway, only to have her cough up a mouthful of blood. Her left hand clawed the air, trying to bring it closer so she could get it into her lungs. All Harm could hear were her frantic efforts to breathe, and the gurgling blood in her throat.
"Morphine! Now! Now! Now!"
They were finally able to inject the sedative, and Harm watched her body go limp. One medic turned to him.
"Commander, she's got a collapsed lung. Must be broken ribs that punctured it. We're going to intubate her. Get some more air into her that way."
Harm was shaking all over. He could only nod. The medics worked quickly, and soon had the tube in her throat, connecting the open end to a clear, soft plastic container that squeezed air into the tube.
"We'll all need to take turns with this tube, Commander" the medic told him. "If we can't keep her bagged, then she doesn't breathe."
Harm knelt down beside the SEAL, taking the bag from him. He began a slow, steady rhythm ... squeezing the bag, letting her lung fill, then empty. Squeezing again.
His eyes never left her face. He wasn't just moving air into her ... he was sending his strength into her. Willing her to live.
"Stay with me, Sarah. I need my Marine. I need you so, so much. I'm not ready to give up on you yet."
Outside the cave, the wind continued to howl.