Chapter 2:

'Seriously… what is with all this gear' Callie whine as she walk towards the Humvee. A bead of sweat drips down her back which she attempts to wipe away, but that it is impossible in all this gear. Although growing up in Miami, nothing compares to this heat. The heat drains the energy from everyone – and it's impossible to escape from. 'And don't even get me started for the cars, made for freakin' gnomes. Who is 2 feet tall person that designed this monstrosity?' Callie mutters as she again bumps her head on the car roof as she climbs in. As Callie climbs into the car, she goes through the her routine that she has every time she goes into an active zone. Running through her mental checklist she makes sure she has all her gear – both personal and medical. The Humvee is kitted out with all the medical supplies that Callie may require and she does a visual check to ensure no one has touched her gear since she reloaded the truck this morning.

Today was one of those day when Callie knew something big was planned – the hustle and bustle in the camp was incredible. Personal from surrounding camps had been flooding in for days and numbers had swelled to double the normal level. Orders had been handed out this morning – the convey were headed into territory which had a continuously changing frontline. Obviously, the brass had bitten the bullet and decided that using superior numbers and equipment, the enemy would be pushed back. Going into uncharted city territory was even worse as there were just too many places for them to hide and everyone was on edge. A couple of days ago a platoon was ambushed in the city and few came back without a scratch which meant Callie had operated for 36 hours straight patching up the soldiers so they could be evacuated or be moved away from the front line. Intelligence had suggested that the enemy was digging into the city and setting up a permanent line. So it was all hands on deck – including one Capitan C. Torres, stationed here for 3 months and counting. The final thing Callie does before she settles into her seat and straps herself in is to briefly touch her shirt pocket to ensure that the letter from Arizona is there. Arriving just 2 weeks after Callie had arrived, she didn't have the strength to open it. Callie had also never opened any of the other letters she'd received, the remained bundled up in a rubber band in her backpack. She didn't want to hear how stupid she was or how Arizona had moved on with her life. Remaining shut off from everyone allowed for Callie to believe that everything would turn out ok.

Settling in to the jeep on the way to city, Callie feels her nerves get worse, adrenaline is pumping through her veins causing her heart rate to increase exponentially. Everyone is worried… their faces say it all as they glance around. Just waiting for the shit to hit the fan. Callie attempting to calm her nerves pulls the letter out of her pocket and she's the curly, slanted handwriting of Arizona. It immediately has a calming effect on her. Her mind drifts to Arizona and she wonders what she is doing. Is she operating or on rounds. Or does she have a day off and is running errands or sleeping late? Sleeping late – Callie chuckles to herself. Her sleeping pattern was non-existent here as she just grabbed whatever shut eye she could get. Between operating, organising paperwork and her gear, Callie was continuously run off her feet. The amount and severity of trauma Callie had seen makes the ER room look like a paper cut. Hard decisions need to be made daily about who could be saved and who could not. Some days are just black as Callie lost more than she saved. The really bad days were when the people she lost reached double digits – something that had never happened when she was in Seattle. At the end of a 36 hour shift, Callie would stand under the shower, the water in tinged red as she attempts to wash the blood from her hands. Self-doubt of her skill as a surgeon would often surface in her mind. Equipment is severely lacking and sometime Callie would just have to take a stab in the dark – literally – and hope what you are doing is fixing the issue. Shaking the dark thought from her mind, Callie brings herself back to the moment at hand. The number of military personal approaching is huge – we are going to take this city – or die trying.

Entering the city, it's quiet, too quiet putting everyone more on edge. There is no one about and the streets are deserted. The convoy slowly moves through the city, soldiers fanning through the building checking them one by one. Callie, as medical personal stays at the back in the jeep. They slowly move forward – taking street by street. No one is spotted. All the houses are deserted and the few people remaining are told to leave and seek shelter elsewhere. And then all hell backs lose.

"Move, move, move" I hear over the radio. "Enemy forces spotted… clearance to engage". Through the radio connection, gun fire rings out.

Callie's jeep breaks due to its non-combat nature meaning that they aren't allowed any closer. Listening over the radio, Callie hears frantic calls for people to seek shelter as the enemy has the advantage of height from snipers from the roofs of buildings. Callie's job is to do the initial assessment and any life-saving surgery here and then pack them up and send them back to the field hospital. Callie always drew the short straw and got sent in the jeep – as the least experienced of the surgical team she could carry out the triage competently. Word reaches the jeep that injured soldiers are heading back and that Callie should break out the gear and set up camp.

"Time to get to work" Callie says as jumps out of the jeep and heads to the closest building.

For the next 12 hours, a steady stream of soldiers enters the building for treatment. Some need bandages but about half are shipped out in transport buses. But we are advancing, slowly but surely the front line is moving forward.

XXXX

Arizona got paged in at 2 in morning due to a car accident on the freeway which involved a pregnant lady. The morning didn't improve when she had to tell that the husband that the family he thought he would have was gone. Owen and Arizona couldn't save either of them – the damage was just too severe. Emotionally drained and it was only 10 o'clock, Arizona didn't have the energy to drag herself down to the coffee cart to get decent coffee. Deciding to settle for the god awful stuff that the hospital put up, Arizona enters the attending's lounge and spots Mark and Teddy glued to the TV

'What's up?' Arizona asks attempting to sound like her normal perky self. The hospital wasn't been particular busy, but Teddy has surgery in 20 minutes. Usually she would be prepping the patient for surgery not watching TV and drinking this terrible coffee.

"Shhh…" Mark answers unaware that it was Arizona that was talking. Finally pulling his eyes away from the screen, he notices Arizona as she slumps on the seat next to him. These past 3 months have been hell for both of them. The two formed a understanding as they both blame themselves for Callie leaving. 'You heard from Torres?' Mark asks. Arizona widens her eyes in shock that Mark has broached the taboo subject between the two of them. They never openly talked about Callie but whenever they had a bad day, they sought the other out. A replacement to the one the use to seek.

'Ah, no…' Arizona manages to stutter out her mind thrown back to the letter she had penned all those weeks. She'd not heard back from Callie. Arizona wasn't sure if she expected to. Arizona had, for once, truly let Callie in sharing her fears, doubts and her future she craved with Callie. And Arizona got nothing in reply. Noticing that Mark has again turned his eyes back to the TV, Arizona focusses on the new report to see what has got Mark so entranced.

'… as the military attempts to re-take the city, American personal have come under heavy attack and causalities are expected to rise in the coming hours. The number of personal engaged numbers over ten thousand with more flooding into the area. The military attempts regain the balance of power. But it seems the enemy has started a pitched battle that experts say could last days if not weeks.' The pictures shown with the new bulletin show areas of the city on fire when planes hovering above the city.

Arizona lets out a small moan as she comprehends what has got Mark and Teddy so interested. Teddy grasps her hand hoping to calm Arizona down before she completely shuts down. Using her father's connections in the military, Arizona was able to find out where Callie was stationed. She had pleaded and begged with her father until he caved and began to make calls. Her father had attempted to convince her that by knowing where Callie was would make it worse. And she was stationed near that god-damned city where the military had decided to make a stand.

'She'll be ok, we don't know exactly where she is and chances are she is working in a field hospital.' Teddy whispers attempting to placate the distraught blonde. The last couple of months had been hard on everyone with the shooting and Callie leaving. The funerals to attend, memorial services, the first days back at work had left everyone drained and they were only just beginning to find their feet. But everyone had someone to confide in, except Arizona. Once Callie had left, the perky blonde had completely shut down, refusing to discuss anything to do with her. Mark occasionally got through to her, but even that was becoming more of a rare occurrence. Arizona doesn't even acknowledge that she had heard Teddy's statement, her focus solely on the TV screen.

XXXX

"We need more medical personal' Callie yells out to her radio man. As the only surgeon in this quadrant, Callie was snowed under as she attempted to cope with the number of injured flooding in. Her assistants consisted of two medics and a couple of soldiers that had advanced first aid training. She'd commandeered them from surrounding platoons as the number of injured had sky rocketed. All of them were rushing attempting to stabilise the men to a condition suitable for transport. Callie did any surgeries that were desperately required while yelling out instructions to those around her. 'Get onto HQ and insist that I need more people' Callie says reiterating her point as the man gets up from his position of holding a bandage down on an injured soldier's leg. The man rushes off pass the message onto the person manning the radio. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, Callie prays that when night fall, the number of injured will drop. But then, the snipers will also come out to play.