The assignment was to slip past the border, find the crashed satellite, and get out with its data. They weren't meant to get caught up in a game of cat and mouse against a Spetsnaz patrol, a force with superior numbers and fire power and the advantage of being on their home turf.
Magnum had managed to gain enough time for the rest of the guys to find the satellite, but it had come at a steep price. He'd ended up engaged in a fist fight with three men from the Russian force, each one larger and stronger than him. And now, after having to sprint over uneven terrain of the forest to get back to his team, they were riding towards their pick-up on horses.
Bumpy horses.
On bumpy ground.
He was in agony.
The pain in his chest was getting worse and various other pains were making themselves known, especially along his back where he had been slammed into trees by one of the Spetsnaz operatives. The awkward up and down motion of the horse wasn't helping at all. To stop the sickening grinding feeling in his chest, he had to hold his weight to one side and push his shoulders back slightly, but that made his back throb unbearably. To stop the pain in his back from driving him mad, he had to hunch his shoulders, but that put pressure on his broken ribs.
He tried to listen to the easy banter. Laughing was out of the question, but he could smile at the jokes and bad puns. But after a while, far too short of a while, listening to his team started to take up too much of his attention. Parts of his body that hadn't been hurting before were starting to ache from the awkward position he was trying to hold, and the burning in his chest was starting to spread, making him tense muscles that would rather not be tensed.
A burst of laughter broke through the haze of pain, and he turned his head to try to catch up with the newest joke, hoping it would distract him for a moment, only to freeze in pain as something caught somewhere. His entire body jerked as every nerve screamed, and he couldn't hold back a grunt of pain. Nuzo, already riding close, nudged his horse closer and leaned in, grabbing Magnum's reins and pulling both horses to a stop.
"Tommy? You good?" He kept his voice quiet even though the rest of the team had stopped talking at the sound of the pained gasp from Magnum. "Your ribs?"
"Everything," Magnum managed to get out, whispering through tightly closed teeth. "My back... I think." He was struggling to catch his breath and they could all see sweat beading on the other man's forehead.
"Take it easy." He spoke a little louder and waved Rick over. "We got you. You're good."
"We need to get him off his horse," Rick said, sliding from his own mount.
Nuzo stayed where he was, keeping one hand on Magnum's arm, but T.C. and Illya, their local contact, immediately dismounted. Getting Magnum onto his horse hadn't been exactly easy, but he'd managed most of the heavy lifting on his own with just a helping hand from T.C. to steady him while Rick had kept Magnum's horse calm. But it was clear he wasn't going to be able to repeat the manoeuvre.
They were forced to wait while the spasm eased, Illya explaining he thought a nerve bundle was being pinched somewhere as a result of the repeated impacts to Magnum's back. It took longer than anyone would have liked before Magnum managed to relax slightly in the saddle.
"We could carry on," he said after nearly a full minute had passed. "I'm good."
The team didn't even need to answer him; their glares said it all. They had a brief discussion about the logistics of dismounting with broken ribs, which didn't take Magnum's objections about stopping into consideration in any way, shape, or form. It was decided the best way for him to dismount would be to slip his feet from the stirrups and lean forward slightly before swinging his left leg over the horse's back and slowly slipping to the ground.
T.C. and Nuzo stood to the side in the hopes of being able to carry some of Magnum's weight once he'd moved his leg, to stop him from hitting the ground too hard. It was difficult to watch; Magnum's entire body was shaking as he finally managed to get both legs on one side of the horse. For a second, it looked as though he might slip straight to the ground, and Nuzo and T.C. both started forward. With Rick and Illya stacking bedrolls on top of each other to serve as a makeshift mattress, everyone was too busy to keep an eye on Magnum's horse.
Already unsettled by the increasingly unstable weight on its back, the sudden shift of that weight to one side and the sudden movements of the people next to it made the normally placid creature toss its head in frustration and rear slightly. Only slightly, and T.C. immediately jumped to grab the reins and calm the poor thing. But Magnum wasn't expecting the sudden shift. He fell with a gasp of surprise and landed hard. A yell was forced out of him as his battered body hit the ground.
In the second that it took for Nuzo to drop to his knees, Magnum was unconscious.
***
It had taken all four of them to keep Magnum's limp form steady while they moved him to the pile of bedrolls. Nuzo had confirmed Illya's theory about compressed nerves and then spent several long moments listening to Magnum's breathing.
"Breath sounds are uneven," he'd announced, looking grim. "I don't think the ribs have punctured anything. I think it's a pleural effusion." He had spent a few moments explaining about trauma and fluid buildup before stating that there was no way Magnum was travelling either on horseback or under his own steam. "We'll need to rig up a travois. And we need to move as quickly as we can."
T.C. and Illya had taken off at a gallop in the direction of the village, hoping to be able to scrounge some supplies for a travois. Rick had set himself up a few feet away, scrutinizing the horizon through his scope "just in case we aren't as clear as we thought." And that left Nuzo sitting with Magnum, where he'd been for the last twenty minutes.
"I told you we should have kept going," Magnum muttered, clearly unhappy at being told he wasn't allowed to move.
Nuzo just snorted and kept on sorting his medical supplies into piles.
"How are you organising that stuff?" Magnum lifted his head for a clearer look but Nuzo immediately put a restraining hand on his shoulder.
"Things I can use to drain the fluid from around your lung and things I can't," Nuzo answered once Magnum was flat on his back again.
Magnum opened his mouth to say something, no doubt something sarcastic, but started coughing instead. The pain was instant and excruciating, and he was left pale and trembling and gasping for breath. He didn't even seem to notice the blood staining his lips. Nuzo just wiped it away and hoped for T.C. and Illya to return soon. He really didn't want to have to insert a drain out in the middle of nowhere.
Magnum had actually felt a bit better when he first woke up after his horse had thrown him. Sure the pain had been replaced by fuzziness and dizziness and nausea, but anything was a welcome relief from the mind-numbing agony. He hadn't been out for long; Nuzo was briefing General Blake on the delay when he came to, and he listened for a bit before chiming in.
"For the record, I disagree with Nuzo's decision." He'd actually managed to grin at the look of exasperation on Nuzo's face.
"I'm sure you do, Lieutenant." The General had sounded amused, but Magnum knew him well enough to pick up on the underlying relief in his tone. "But for now, we're going to take your medic's advice on this."
"Yes, sir." Magnum had heard Rick's huffed laughter and turned his head to see where he was. His stomach had rebelled at the shifting scenery, and he'd frozen, squeezing his eyes shut as he'd fought against throwing up. Heaving and broken ribs were a nightmare of a combination.
He had hoped that a little time would make him feel better, but he had just felt worse as time went on. His head had carried on spinning and his stomach had kept on churning and the pain had started to creep back. By the time Nuzo had started cataloguing his supplies, Magnum had felt his whole body shaking and sweat prickling between his shoulder blades and pain surging about his whole body.
The tickle in his throat took him by surprise, not even giving him time to wrap his arms around his chest before he started coughing. The pain became a band of molten metal squeezing his chest and nails driving into his skull. By the time he was able to relax, red flashes were exploding in the darkness behind his eyelids, and he couldn't even lift his hand to rub his eyes. Nuzo was saying something, but he couldn't catch the words. Something about painkillers and respiration, but even through the roaring in Magnum's ears, Nuzo didn't sound happy, and Magnum doubted he was getting a shot of morphine any time soon.
He tried to stay awake, "Stay with me, Tommy," being the only full sentence he managed to hear. He fought as hard as he could, he really did. But he was exhausted, and everything hurt. Breathing was getting so hard, and just trying to open his eyes made his head pound. Magnum was stubborn as a mule, but even his willpower wasn't enough, and he let himself drift away.
Magnum wasn't too sure where he was. It was quiet and dark and a little cold. Something was pressing on his chest making breathing awkward. And there was pain. He tried to figure out why he was hurting and struggling to breathe but he didn't have the energy to marshal his thoughts.
He was pretty sure that his team was with him though. Off in the distance somewhere, he could hear murmuring; he couldn't make out the words but he recognised the voices. Knowing they were there made him feel like he didn't have to worry about the blackness or the pain or the cold. The voices continued, too far away to find, and Magnum sank deeper into the cool air that surrounded him.
After a while, he wasn't sure how long, he tried to make his way to wherever his team was. He could still hear them, although they sounded like they were underwater. He was coherent enough to realise the problem was with his ears and not their voices. The thought spurred him onward. The weight on his chest was increasing but he kept pushing against what he suddenly realised was unconsciousness.
"...a syringe and try…"
A syringe? Magnum tried to get his thoughts to line up. Who would need a syringe? Nuzo was the best bet, seeing as he was their medic. But why? For him? 'A needle isn't gonna shift this elephant on my chest, buddy.' The mental image that came with the thought made him snort with laughter and oh god that was a mistake!
Awareness flooded back in one sickening rush as the pain that had been muted flared back up with a vengeance. He could hear Nuzo clearly now, telling him to relax, to let his lungs do their job, but he couldn't relax. He couldn't get any air! He felt dizzy and lightheaded and the pain was getting worse and the pressure on his chest just kept increasing. Magnum knew, somewhere deep inside, that he was panicking, but knowing didn't make it any easier to stop.
All he could think was that Nuzo didn't realise how bad a state he was in, didn't know how badly he needed help. Magnum clenched his fists and forced his eyes open, hoping to somehow communicate his desperation. Instead, he saw Nuzo crouched next to him with a syringe in his hand. Magnum had a sudden realisation and squeezed his eyes closed again, knowing what was about to happen. He tried to focus his frantic mind, to stop his body from fighting against the hands that were lifting him upright.
Something inside of him moved, something that shouldn't have been able to move, and the pain spiked. Ego be damned, he couldn't fight it right now. The cool darkness was back, and he threw himself head first into it.
"He's getting worse. We aren't going to make the rendezvous quickly enough, and that's assuming Blake can even arrange a new location for us this far from the border."
"What do you suggest?" General Blake, still listening in on the secure channel, sounded cool and efficient.
Nuzo took a moment to look at the professionally-detached faces around him before replying. "I'm going to go in with a syringe and try to draw off at least some of the fluid. It's the best I can do right now." There was silence for a beat or two and he took the time to wonder how on earth he was going to pull it off.
"Affirmative," came the response finally. "We'll inform your pilot." Then, quieter, "Good luck."
The line fell silent, still open but clear. It wasn't hard to picture everyone at control waiting with bated breath for the outcome of the procedure.
"Okay, we need to get to work." Nuzo wasted no time in arranging everyone. Rick and Illya would sit behind Magnum and lift him into an upright position, with T.C. sitting in front of him, holding Magnum's arm out of the way and taking his weight to make sure he didn't fall too far forward.
"Too far forward, and there's an increased risk of damage to his spleen or liver. Too far back, and the needle could go into his lung instead of the pocket of fluid." Magnum's gear and vest were already packed up, and a quick flick of Rick's knife took care of Magnum's shirt. It fell open, revealing angry looking bruises that made them all wince. And then Magnum started to mumble and shift, his wheezing breath becoming louder.
Nuzo swore viciously. "Relax," he soothed, motioning to the others to hold Magnum still. "There's plenty of air. Just let your lungs do their job."
Magnum didn't seem to hear him. He kept on gasping for air, his lips turning an ugly shade of pale blue as the team watched.
"Lift him up," Nuzo ordered. "We can't wait."
Almost as if he heard him, Magnum's eyes opened. They fell on the syringe Nuzo was holding and suddenly closed again, tightly. Nuzo felt a wave of sympathy, knowing that Magnum knew what was coming. The stricken man gave a strangled gasp as Rick and Illya lifted him, and then his body went limp. Nuzo was pretty sure he wasn't the only one thankful that Magnum had blacked out again.
The actual drainage went better than anyone would have dared hope. After some careful prodding, Nuzo slipped the needle into Magnum's chest, just above a rib. Working without a scan or x-ray made it tricky to judge how deep to go, but he'd seen the medical files of the team and told himself to just remember Magnum's latest imagery.
Sure enough, as Nuzo pulled gently on the plunger, the syringe slowly filled with a pale yellow liquid. The effect on Magnum's breathing was immediately apparent; the pained, wheezing gasps became deeper and quieter and the blue tint left his lips. By the time Nuzo had filled the syringe a third time, Magnum's breathing had evened out and sounded like he was gently snoring.
"Procedure was a success," Nuzo reported over the comm and wasn't surprised to hear a faint sigh of relief greet the news.
"Understood," came Blake's voice. "Stand by."
The team exchanged looks, wondering what they were waiting on. After less than a minute, the comm line opened again and the General's voice sounded in their ears.
"Your rendezvous point has been changed. Exact coordinates are being sent to you now, but it's approximately 3 miles from your current location." There was a brief pause, and then, with a note of warning in his voice, Blake said, "No one wants to be hanging around so close to the border."
"Understood, control. We'll move fast."
He took a deep breath and felt the heaviness in his head shift slightly. He tried to figure out what was going on but he couldn't hear much, just the odd word, and opening his eyes seemed like too much effort. Picking through his memory to figure out what had happened proved to be vaguely confusing. Had breathing really been so hard? He took another deep breath and felt pain and a tightness, but nothing compared to what he thought he was remembering.
"Magnum?"
Another deep breath, and there was definitely an uncomfortable feeling deep in his chest. But it wasn't all that bad. Maybe someone had done something clever? He really should open his eyes and get things sorted but he was warm and comfortable and his whole body was aching. Would a quick nap really be so bad?
"C'mon, Tommy, I know you're awake."
Oh! That sounded like Nuzo. Magnum tried to open his eyes but his eyelids were so heavy. And he really was so comfortable. Nuzo could take care of things for a little while. Magnum thought he heard a rhythmic thumping off in the distance but, whatever it was, it would have to wait. He was just too tired. The rest of the team could fill him in later.
"Okay. You just rest up. Our ride'll be here in a minute."
Ride? More horses? Magnum definitely didn't fancy that, but he was honestly too tired to care at the moment. He let himself drift off to sleep, knowing his team could handle anything in the meantime.