Tactical Considerations

Tara grabbed a mask and held it to her face as she walked into the sterile area. There was the major, with a hell of a lot of blood.

"How is he?"

"He'd be better if people weren't distracting me." Tara didn't flinch.

"Doctor, will he be conscious anytime soon?"

"I don't know if he'll be alive." The surgeon said. "Stop bothering me." Tara shook her head.

"Sorry—you need to get him, and everyone else prepped for evac, ASAP." There was a moment of silence, and then Dr. Possible took a second to glare at Tara, her hands continuing their skilled work.

"Captain, the major has serious injuries including a lacerated aorta. I'm not a heart surgeon, I'm a brain surgeon, and that means it's going to take me more time—even if he would survive, trying to move him too quickly would kill him—not might, would."

"I understand," Tara said, "But if we get overrun, we may not have a choice—the enemy won't wait once they see choppers landing, and…" She paused, "The protection of the civilians is our objective. The Major wouldn't like it if you were endangered for his sake."

Nor would Kim.Tara had been acquainted with the nasty habits of those who had never heard of the laws of war, and the POW training had been fairly clear on that point—women would be raped, not might, would be, if they were captured by groups like the ones that haunted the region. That was part of the risks you took.

But it was not part of the risks Kim's mom was supposed to take, and once again, Tara wondered at the idiocy of sticking a medical facility at "Buttpimple, Grid Six" as just about every marine referred to the location.

Unfortunately, Kim was part of the problem here as well. Dr. Possible didn't like government types, of any shape or form. Neither did her husband, which was why he'd quit the space center just about the same day Kim was sentenced.

Which added to her joy, because technically, Tara couldn't give orders to Dr. Possible, or anyone else at the NGO. She and the other marines were there to provide support and advice.

"If we have to evacuate, you and the staff, and the patients, are the only thing that's going on those helicopters." Tara said, "We won't have time to move the medical gear."

"What?" The hiss of outrage was the only sign the doctor had been affected by her statement, as her hands continued working, the nurse helping her supervisor.

"We are not the USMC, and if this equipment is destroyed, I don't think the IRC can afford to replace it. We can't le-"

"Can and will, because if you don't, and it endangers anyone I'll have the marines on the chopper throw it overboard." Tara paused. "The equipment can be replaced, even it is hard—lives can't be."

"Very well." The voice was frigid. Tara remembered when Dr. Possible had been far happier to see her. "If there's nothing else, I have some more work to do." Tara nodded, and backed out the door.

"Here." James said to her as she turned, and shoved a rifle into her arms. "AK-74—one of the patients had it when they brought him in…figured it'd do you a little better than a pistol."

"Thanks." Tara said, taking the weapon, and checking it. Thank God for famialization courses. "Any movement?"

"Nothing." She frowned at that. If they were lobbing mortar shells in, they should have attacked while things were confused…

"Could be they're just ringing our bells…" The sergeant replied to her unspoken thought.

"That'd be nice—care to bet on it?"

"Don' get paid enough to lose money like that, Ma'am." James said. "I've got the injured marines close into the medical building—the rest are on the perimeter." Tara nodded. They'd had sixteen, not counting her, James and the Major, which meant they now had twelve on the line… She laughed.

"Sixteen privates and corporals, one sergeant, one captain and one major…" She paused, "I don't know, Sergeant, do you think we have enough officers?"

"Oh, not at all, but we'll muddle through somehow…" Tara and the Sergeant shared an acid smile. They had a captain and a major, but it would have been very nice if said captain and major had come with the ground combat elements that they would usually merit. Even one company of Marines could make Tara's life much easier—not the least in which they'd have enough soldiers to go looking for their tormenters.

And if wishes were soldiers, why not ask for the entire United States Military while she was at it? Tara shook her head.

"So, how many?" she asked her sergeant. James had been around a lot longer than she had, and he'd done more ground fighting…

You mean he's had more experience in real fights. Not firing on crowds of panicked people. She thought with the rush of bile that always accompanied the memory.

"No way to tell. AT least three mortars, so figure six people per tube... 18, people just for their heavy weapons." The sergeant shook his head. "I'd figure, better than forty, at the very least."

"Wonderful."

"Well, at least you have one advantage-- that gun is in pretty good shape, and it evenhas a good bayonet." The sergeant continued, breaking Tara out of her chain of thought.

"It does?"

"Better than an M-16." He said, with a suspicious twinkle.

He knows?

Tara was halfway down the hill, her bayoneted rifle in her hands. Just like they'd told her to hold it. She was moving slower than she should, but every damned sound could be Gill, sneaking up on her, to attack her. She hated that feeling when she'd been helpless. Ron had saved them all…but she had hated the terror that had risen in her heart.

That wasn't going to happen aga- There was the sound of footfalls behind he, heavy, and then-

Tara spun around and with a cry that would have done her DI proud, stabbed the bayonet forward.

There was a "schunk" sound as it stabbed into the soft wood of a tree, the figure having dodged, and Tara cursed as she tried to pull it out.

"Recruit…what the HELL are you doing?" The bellowed voice from the figure brought Tara's eyes up.

Oh God. The DI would certainly be proud of her cry, being that he'd just heard it.

Because her DI was the person she'd just tried to run through with the bayonet.

"Recruit… I think you, I, and the captain are going to have a little…chat." A pause, "Now pull that thing out of the tree, and doubletime it to the captain's tent!" Tara had only one thought.

I just tried to kill the DI….

TBC.