Into Africa

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: I own no Castles. Or Becketts. Rating: K+ for language. Time: The present day, but in an alternate universe.

"It's Dr. Bradley. As soon as the shooting started, he came flying out of his tent wearing nothing but his boxers. He ran straight into our porta-potties and knocked two of them over. He must have thought they were attacking him because he started hitting them. He knocked them all over and they fell down into the little hollow and…" Chris stopped.

"All the shit flowed out of them, sir." Johnstone finished.

Chris, the blonde, went on. "He's in complete panic mode, Dr. Beckett. He's screaming that the terrorists are all over and he's…he's…"

"Laying down in the shit and throwing shit and rocks at anyone who comes near him. I got to him from behind, and he has no wounds, sir. But then he clocked me with a rock. Let me have a couple of big guys and I can drag him out, but all concerned are going to get beat up. Open wounds with human feces in them will get infected, sure as shit."

Kate sighed. "He's my responsibility. I'll go get him."

"I have all the medics. We'll go get him. Sergeant Johnstone, you've done enough for one night. Get some rest." He turned to Warrant Officer Reed. "Ron Barber is over in the med bunker. Get him over here." He turned back to Kate. "Sergeant Barber is my senior medic. If anyone can handle this, he can."

"Sir, "Lt. Glass said, "we have a Humvee outside. You can ride up to the dig in style."

They drove to the dig and found four Rangers surrounding Dr. Bradley, at a safe distance. The senior Ranger walked up to Rick. "Sir, he's still down there and he's still throwing shit, literally, and screaming."

Rick could hear and see that for himself. "You haven't tried to get him out?"

"No, sir. We're just making sure that he doesn't fall over and drown in the shit."

Rick shook his head and headed toward where Bradley was. He was stopped when Kate put her hand on his arm. "He's my responsibility. Too many people have already been hurt tonight because of me." She went as close to Bradley as she could and called to him. "Charles! It's me, Kate Beckett. You can come out now. The terrorists are gone. It's safe. Come on out and we'll clean you up."

A rock sailed by Kate's head, followed by a burst of profanity. Kate tried to get through to him for another five minutes before giving up.

"I can't get through to him. I think we should just leave him there until he calms down enough to get out by himself."

Rick turned to Sergeant Barber. "How long is this going to last? Any ideas?"

Barber shrugged. "I'm surprised the adrenaline rush has lasted as long as it has. I don't know anything about his prior medical condition, but he could be having a psychotic break."

Kate interrupted. "We all had to pass very strict medical exams and a review of our medical records to get here. I can't imagine he could conceal a psychiatric illness like that."

Barber nodded. "When the adrenaline wears off, the result is the opposite, extreme lethargy. He may even go to sleep on us, sir."

"Any chance he could drown in that shit?"

"Just a small one. But we can keep a fire team watching him and keep a closer eye on him once he goes quiet on us."

"Okay, I'll have Lt. Glass detail a fireteam to keep an eye on him and switch off at one-hour intervals." Rick turned to Kate. "I'm going to keep the southern machine gun bunkers fully manned all night and I'll keep the northern sangars manned as well. That'll free up two of the personnel bunkers. I don't think the jihadis will be back, but I think all of your people will sleep a lot better tonight inside a nice cozy bunker. In addition, if you approve, we do have building materials left over, so we can build two more personnel bunkers for your people. The engineers and their heavy equipment have left, but all of my people have e-tools. Those are entrenching tools. They can dig."

Kate smiled. "Thank you. My people can do shovel work as well. Let me get them all headed to your bunkers. And thank you again for all you've done for us, and for me, tonight."

Kate got her people into the bunkers and after they settled down, they all had a good night's sleep.

Rick was woken by Mr. Reed. "Sir, you need to get up. There's something going on with the archeology folks."

"Can it wait until I've had a cup of coffee?" Rick grumped.

"I dunno. Bradley is awake, cleaned up and raising hell with Dr. Beckett. You might want to go take a quick look. I'll bring you a nice cup of our good coffee. And one for Dr. Beckett, too."

Rick grabbed his protective vest, helmet and weapon. He could hear Bradley yelling as soon as he stepped out of the command bunker. He was screaming that everything was Beckett's fault. All of the members of the dig were outside, listening. None of Rick's soldiers were around, but Lieutenant Diori was sitting on an empty ammo case, watching with a smile on his face.

"All of this is your fault, Beckett. You led us to this hellhole, filled with murderers and all we have for protection is a bunch of incompetent clowns. The attack last night was your fault and yours alone. When I get back to Duquesne, I'll make sure you never lead a dig again."

To Rick's surprise, Lt. Diori began clapping. "Oh, brilliant, sir. Who would have thought that jihadism in the Sahel was due to one lone woman? Thank you for pointing this out to us. Could you give us some evidence of your discoveries?" He said sarcastically.

Bradley turned on Diori. "Don't think I'm going to leave your part in this out. You may be fooling the idiot Americans in this country, but you can't fool me. I'm sure that like all the rest of the third world thugs out there, you're robbing us blind and helping the other side. I'm on to you."

Diori smiled coldly. "Perhaps you should have more time to learn of my country, Mr. Bradley. A call to my uncle in Niamey could perhaps find problems with your passport and visa. These things happen in countries led by thugs and traitors. You could be here for months."

"You wouldn't dare!" Bradley screamed.

Rick spoke up. "I'll make sure that Lt. Diori uses his influence to get you out of Niger as soon as possible. The sooner the better."

"Do you think your own incompetence is going to go unnoticed in this?" Bradley screamed. "You should have had every one of your people between us and those terrorists on the next mountain."

"Your opinion is doubtlessly based on your vast military experience?"

Bradley whirled around to face the dig crew. "If any of you value your lives and careers, you'll do as I did, resign from this farce of a dig and return to the US with me. Well? Are you coming?"

There was some shuffling of feet, but no one went with Bradley. Even Laura Glass, with her arm in a sling, stayed put.

"Sir," Mr. Reed said, "the medevac chopper is fifteen minutes out. Dr. Fields is moving the wounded to the LZ now. If Mr. Bradley is going with them, he should head there now."

Bradley looked around, then left as fast as he could.

As soon as Bradley was out of earshot, Kate spoke to the dig crew. "I have a few things to say. First, I need to apologize to Captain Rodgers for not listening to him. Captain, I am very, very sorry for ignoring your advice. What happened last night was all my fault."

Rick grinned. "As I said last night, I think the jihadis were more responsible for last night, but your apology is accepted."

"Thank, you. Secondly, Captain Rodgers has suggested we'd be safer staying here at night rather than in our tents at the dig. I agree. And, the captain has generously offered to have his men help us with building the bunkers for us, although I expect everyone of you to pitch in, as I will."

"Dr. Beckett, before we get too far along in this project, my troops have either been on watch, or sleeping by their weapons in their bunkers and sangars, all night. I need to let them sleep a bit. So, we'll start the building tomorrow. In the meantime, I've been advised that the CH-47 that's taking out our wounded will be bringing in ground beef, hotdogs, bratwursts, and chicken breasts in addition to a couple of tubs of potato salad and even some ice cream. We'll be having a barbecue later in the afternoon."

That raised everyone's morale.

Kate scanned her crew. "Any questions?"

Chris raised her hand. "I can understand that a no fraternization rule could work with each of us at opposite ends of the mountain, but with us living among the soldiers, it doesn't make any sense to me. How are we not going to fraternize if we're eating with them?" Chris was proud of the fact that she never once looked at Billy, who, with a half a dozen other Rangers had come to watch.

Rick could see her point, but still worried about the effect a number of good looking young women would have on the Rangers. "I can see your point, miss. For the time being, I'll suspend the no fraternization rule." He turned to look at the few Rangers who were about. "But if there are any problems, the rule can be put back in place."

As the people drifted away, Mr. Reed came out of the command bunker with coffee for Rick and Kate. "A cup of coffee for you, sir, and for you, ma'am."

"Thank you." They said in unison, and began sipping their coffee.

"We have a new hero, sir." Reed said, with a smile on his face.

"Who?"

"Why none other than Captain Doctor Myron "Killing" Fields, the man who ran through a deluge of bullets to take the wounded to safety. Did so with nothing but a shirt between him and a bullet, and no weapon, either. They'll probably make a movie about him, Fields of the Sahel. I'm hoping they get Samuel L. Jackson to play me. What about you, sir? George Clooney?"

"What Fields did last night was stupid and careless. It could have gotten him killed. He may be a damned good doctor, but he doesn't know shit about being a soldier. And he'd damned well better not ever hear about his new nickname, because if he does, he'll do something else stupid and then he will get killed."

"He won't hear it from me, sir."

However, Rick found out that it was too late when he went to the medical bunker to check on the wounded.

"Did you hear about my nickname, Rick?" Fields asked as soon as Rick came in.

"Do you have any idea how stupid what you did was, Captain Fields? Any fucking idea at all?"

Fields nodded. "Yes, I do. I've put in shifts in ERs before and I know what can happen to people who screw up. It won't happen again, sir."

"It had damned well better not. I do not need a dead heroic doctor, understand?"

"Yes, sir. But look." Fields gestured to his now baggy pants. "I've lost two inches of my stomach."

"No one ever gained weight eating MREs in Africa." Rick commented.

"And I'm thinking of getting hair plugs for my receding hairline. Just imagine me going back to New York City, all slimmed down and in my dress uniform. That'll absolutely drive my ex crazy."

"Just as long as you keep imagining yourself going back to New York as a live doctor, okay?"

"I won't make the same mistake twice, sir."

"Good. What I came here to tell you is that there's a barbecue later this afternoon. Are your remaining wounded up for it?"

"Damn straight, sir." Martinez yelled.

"Yes, sir. We can all be there."

"Okay, Myron, get back to work.

"Um, Rick? I think I'd like to be called Ron from now on."

"Carry on, Ron."