As Callie continues to work, her radio man finally returns with a grin look on his face as he steps into the make-shift operating room. As he surveys the scene before him, he briefly wonders how the fiery Latina will cope with the news he had to share. HQ had already planned on sending more medical personal and a helicopter was already in the air heading for Callie's location. 'They were shot down' Callie hears at her shoulder. Turning around

'Who was?' Callie asks focussed on stopping the bleeder in the man's thigh.

'The medics, our reinforcement… they can't send anyone else. There's no one else to send. They were flying them in and dropping them off in the safe zone about 5km away.' He responds at he avoids the sponge that Callie throws over her shoulder. Callie's shoulders slump in defeat, she had been hoping that the arrival of some more people would lighten her load. People were dying because she didn't have enough help. It also meant that Callie couldn't leave – no one was coming to relive her. The words Arizona said during their first fight ring through her head. 'My brother died because there wasn't enough people like George O'Malley' – how right she was. Medical personal are too valuable and there was already a shortage of them before this started. To lose a whole team means that their numbers have dwindled even further.

'Damn it' Callie mutters under her breath as she focusses on the task at hand. The help she was promised wasn't coming. Callie didn't want to dwell on the fact that the people in that helicopter were also her friends. Surveying the scene before her, countless soldiers lay on stretchers and against walls as the able bodied make quick assessment who is in desperate need of help. Who needed a surgery not the Band-Aids Callie feels like she is applying til transport could be organised. The makeshift hospital was also low on every single bit of supply – blood, bandages, pain medicine.

As the hours pass, the fighting slowly lessens as night begins to fall. Sporadic gun fire rings out through the dusk sky breaking the quiet that has begun to fall. The number of injured that had passed through the centre was staggering. Callie finally has time to take a breath and prey that when the sun rises the following morning, that the fighting will have moved. Surveying the room around here, one of the medics is cleaning up by sweeping sand around to remove the blood on the floor. He'll put in new sand to replace the blood soaked sand he's removing. As Callie slumps to the floor, she hopes for a few hours of quiet.

The following morning, the fighting picks up, the quietness of the night it quickly shattered by the continuous inflow of the injured. There's no bedside manner as there is no time…or beds. The heat is unbearable during the day and worse when you are coped up in a small room for protection. The day follows the same patter as yesterday, patch what you can and stabilise to a level suitable for transport. Callie begins to lose track of time, there's nothing to differentiate between the times of the day.

'We're falling back' one of the medics yells at Callie as he pressures a bandage to a corporal's arm. 'Right now!'

'We can't, the injured can't move and we don't have enough of anything to transport these people. And why?' Callie screams back over the noise. In the building, there are 12 personal waiting for transportation out. The rest could walk and would have to walk back to the falling back front line.

'Transports on its way. They broke through the line so they want us to move back a couple of clicks. Just in case.' He replies and he helps the injured soldier to stand up. Not wanting to be caught in an area of active fire, the bustle within the small building increases ten-fold as we prepare to move out. Anything useful in thrown in backpacks as supplies are so limited. Any injured that can walk get hustled outside and told to move away from this area and towards the forward command post. The seriously injured stay with the remaining medical personal as the wait for the transportation begins. Soldiers continue to pour past the building some heading towards the line and some heading back. More heading back, away and their help is enlisted to help the injured to move back.

'Please come… Please come' Callie mutters under her breath as she peers down the road waiting for the elusive transport bus to arrive.

'You say something boss?' the medic next to me asks as he to stares at the road ahead of us.

'Just praying this medivac comes'. With an increasing number of soldiers who can't make the final distance back to the forward command centre, Callie needs this bus to come. And the noise of the battle in getting closer, time is running out.

'Fuck, where is this bus?' Callie yells as she continues to monitor the injured.

'You need to get out of here' an officer stops and tells the group. 'The enemy are pretty close and you are way to near. Everyone's falling back – no vehicle is moving forward. We are stopping to re-group.'

'We can't. Injured soldiers, which can't be moved and we don't have enough personal to move them'. With that the officers grabs some of soldiers heading past and tells them to an end a stretcher and start falling back. I grab one as well, with the officer. We break into a brisk walk as we head back – away from the front line.

'Major Hawkins' he says as he introduces himself, 'But Mitch is fine for now.'

'Captain Torres, Callie.' Callie responds as she surveys the scene before her. The soldiers fan out around the ones supporting stretchers to ensure the enemy doesn't sneak up and attack.

'You a doc?' He asks.

'Yeah, I was in the forward group – Medical Group 3. Drew the short straw, and have been here ever since.'

'You know how to shoot?' He asks me. Callie's eyes widen in shock as the Major reaches down and hands her his sidearm.

'I'm a doctor, I don't do the shooting. I put them back together.' Callie says as she refuse to take the weapon.

'I would feel a lot more comfortable if you had one in case you get separated.' He responds. 'You know how to use one?'

Sadly, Callie mutely nods her head. It was one of the training sessions she had participated in. 'Yeah I do', she says as she shoves the gun into a pocket in her pants. Things suddenly got a whole lot more serious. It's slow going, moving back with the injured. Callie is relieved from stretcher duty which allows her to move up and down the line checking on the men. Two die causing Callie to become further disheartened. The maze of side streets and alleys further slowdown the group as a number are blocked with burning debris. The group moves two steps forward and one back as they slowly make their way to the Allied headquarters. Breaking the silence, shots ring out from above the group causing the group to scatter away from the centre of the street.

'Move, Move, Move!' the Officer yells as he pushes Callie into a side street with her medics at her heels. Due to the soldiers scattered movements, some have dropped the stretchers at their feet as they reach for their weapons. Other's had no where to run and are exposed to the snipers on the roof top. Anyone exposed, including those who had stretchers are picked off as they lie exposed in the street.

'No, we have to go back' as Callie yells as she tries to break the hold on her arm as she is dragged away. Darting through buildings and down small side streets, the small group moves further away from the enemy – and the injured. HQ is updated that the enemy is much closer than expected. The officer is yelling into his radio telling his team to meet up four streets back as Callie slumps against the wall, hyperventilating at the images she had just seen. They were just picked off as they lay on the street. Grasping at the letter in her chest pocket, Callie feels herself beginning to steel herself for what will become a fight for survival.

XXXX

'As expected, the fighting has intensified in the region. The number of confirmed casualties has passed five hundred of NATO forces with this number expected to rise. We has also just received word that Allied forces have been forced to retreat out of the central region due to the number of militant forces flooding into the city from the west. However, officials have stated that a more stable line is being developed where military analysts expected Allied forces to dig in.'

Arizona slowly turn away from the television in the attending's lounge she attempts to not hurl up the breakfast that Mark had forced her to eat. Teddy, Owen and her father were using every connecting they had in the military to find out where Callie was. Arizona had even tried to ring her parents but hadn't been able to get through. She'd left a voicemail message asking them to ring her back, but so far, no one knew anything. Arizona had barely slept a wink since the fighting had started as every time she closed her eyes all she could imagine was getting that dreaded phone call telling her that Callie hadn't made it. Mark hasn't left Arizona's side in these days. Arizona having finally seen the side of him that Calliope always said existed. Suddenly the door is thrown open, with Owen rushing in as he spots the two surgeons curled up on the sofa.

'I found here, well I think I did.' He says. With that Mark sits up and looks at Owen expectantly as he reaches out and grasps at Arizona's hand. But something stops Owen as he turns and faces the television.

'…Just repeating, fighting has further intensified in the region…'

'She's there…' Arizona hears him say. As Owen watches the news bulletin show imagines of military personally retreating back. And Arizona crumbles as tears begin to well in her eyes and her heart plummets to her feet. Arizona struggles to comprehend that the very person who fought tooth and nail for her ex-husband to not go into a warzone, is in the worst fighting since the first Gulf War.

'Are you sure?' Mark asks as he attempts to calm Arizona who silently sobs into Mark's shoulder.

'I got in contact with an old army buddy who's working out of the main headquarters over there. She's somewhere in that region although he's not sure where she is at this time. There's four field hospitals stationed around the fighting area, but personal having been moving around to areas of the heaviest fighting. As it's her first tour they are unlikely to send her into a hot area. He says that only one medical unit in the fighting region, which he says is falling back anyway.' Owen answers.

Arizona can read in his face that he's not saying the whole truth as he doesn't meet either surgeon's eye, 'What is it?' Arizona asks as a feeling of dread settles over her.

'A medical team was shot down, there were no survivors; the names of dead haven't been released' he answers. 'He's going to email in a couple hours and tell me if she… But he's pretty certain she would not be on it.' Owen doesn't finish the sentence. 'I'm sorry', as he turns to leave.

'Thank you, Owen' Arizona replies as Mark pulls her into his chest as sobs echo around the room and Arizona feels tear drops fall on the top of her head .