Preach was standing across the clearing watching McG and Jaz's efforts when Amir returned from doing a quick sweep of the area to make sure they were still in the clear. He impassively observed the smaller man shift his weight from leg to leg, subtle movements betraying his unease with the situation. Amir's eyes were glued to Dalton's unmoving form and without looking away he asked "shouldn't we be doing something? Do they need help?"
"They have it under control. Too many hands just get in the way", Preach responded calmly.
He heard Amir mutter something under his breath that he couldn't catch the exact wording of. But he understood enough to get the general jist. Amir was agreeing with McG's usual complaints about Preach's deliberate way of wording things
Unperturbed, Preach turned back to watching Jaz lift Top's legs up onto a pack. As serene as his words were his mind was busy doing the math and not liking the summation. He could see Top was now conscious again but the fact that he was not fighting their ministrations, attempting to get on his feet and get the team moving spoke volumes about the severity of whatever was ailing him. He had worked with Dalton longer than most of the team combined and had seen him take all sorts of injuries in the course of their missions. Top's crazy plans often put him in harm's way. That was the way he designed them preferring to risk himself rather than his team. It was what made him such a valued leader and afforded him absolute loyalty from his team. The man also had a pain tolerance that rivaled anyone Preach had worked with. He could push through just about anything to get the job done and get his team into the clear. No, if he was down this long things were bad and about to get complicated especially since they were taking this one "old school" and couldn't consult with the DIA for a quick fix.
He sighed softly, also fighting the same urges as Amir to go over and check on the situation and see if he could help, but he knew better. Dalton would not thank him for hovering. Quite the opposite, in fact. Top would tear a strip off him if he caught him with his attention on his friend rather than on protecting the team and the mission. No, the best thing he could do was to carry on in his stead and keep the ship pointed in the right direction. Unfortunately he feared things were not going to be smooth sailing from here on out.
As if on cue he saw McG rise and step away from Dalton and Jaz heading their way. Preach took the drone skin that McG held out to him and raised an eyebrow expectantly.
"How bad?" Amir went the more direct route, impatient for answers.
"Not good" McG admitted, frowning at the pair. "Adrenaline faded and shock set in. Turns out a "broken rib or two" is more like half a chest with some likely internal bleeding going on below. Can't tell the extent out here but I can tell his breathing is compromised which is probably our biggest worry right now."
Preach considered the information - it was about what he had expected. But the bigger question was how to move forward.
"What about moving him?" He posed the question already anticipating the answer.
McG didn't disappoint - emphatically shaking his head.
"No, we shouldn't, movement will just accelerate the bleeding, make things worse. Best thing we can do for him is keep him still and warm and continue pushing fluids. Actually ideally I could give him some blood but just Top's luck he's the odd man out and none of us are matches. We will have to get them to get a medical exfil to our location."
Amir nodded -jumping on board with that plan. "We can use the sat phones to contact control and see what their ETA is to get a chopper here. It will be dark soon they can get in unseen."
"No."
Preach's quiet but firm response caught them up short and had the two men staring at him with disbelief. McG clearly caught on to where he was going with this quicker, his eyes narrowing as frustration and resignation fleeted across his face.
Amir on the other had, practically gaped at Preach. It would have been comical if not for the circumstances. The man's face was normally so hard to read. He rarely betrayed anything and could easily hide his intentions and emotions while on a mission. Just on the way in he had suckered them hook, line, and sinker with a convincing fake story about his uncle and horses.
"We are still too close to the Chinese border. You heard Top earlier, they intercepted his Sat phone and had a team out there quicker than we could rendezvous back to the hot box. They will have no problem crossing a few miles into Mongolia to come get us, just as we had no problem going a mile into their territory. We didn't go through all of this just to get captured and lose the tech."
His explanation, his willingness to risk their leader's health, seemed to have momentarily shocked Amir into silence.
McGs eyes met his, fear reading loud and clear in his expressive eyes as well. But the medic's voice remained calm and clinical as if he was reporting the weather.
"Just to be clear Preach, moving him now - will worsen his condition and will speed up his decline. He may not make it back to civilization before needing more intervention than I can do with what I got"
Amir swore in a language Preach didn't recognize. He started and stopped a sentence a few times seemingly unable to find the right words to voice his frustration. He finally seemed to settle for silence, shaking his head in disbelief.
Jaz too had clearly heard the the medic's blunt assessment as she visibly flinched, understandably not ready to conceptualize losing another teammate. He gave her credit though for staying absorbed in what she had been asked to do rather than coming to join the debate.
Preach finally met McG's' gaze and nodded, accepting the harsh truths and understanding the medic's role to advocate what was best for his patient. They all had their roles to play on this team. McG carried a heavy responsibility being the one called on to fix things when one of them was in peril. He had not always been able to save the day and it wore heavily on him, making him more determined not to lose another family member. Preach would love to agree with him. Love to send up the SOS to the DIA consequences be damned. But he too had a role to fill right now. With Dalton down he was in charge of the team and the mission. He and Dalton formed a formidable team and he had been content to work under the man despite the numerous opportunities to lead that had come his way. Some people chased position and prestige but he had found his family and was just fine where he was, doing the work he was doing. He relished being the team's glue guy. The one that soothed tensions and mentored when needed. His driving purpose was focused on this team and it's success not on where this team could take him.
He sighed again, his lack of ambition for leadership didn't mean he wasn't capable of assuming it when necessary. No, today he had to make the unpopular decision. Today, he had to be the bad guy. That was his role in this moment and he was gonna trust his old friend to survive despite it so that he could happily hand that mantle back over as soon as possible.
He cleared his throat, catching the attention of the team. He walked a few steps closer to Dalton and was gratified to see open eyes tracking his movements. Despite knowing beyond a doubt it was the right decision he felt he owed it to the man to tell him directly.
"We are going to mount up and continue on. We have about 8 miles to cover before we are back in safe communications range. McG do what you need to do to make Dalton comfortable for the ride."
Dalton was silent for a short second, his face unreadable. When he spoke it was with strength and conviction that belied his current condition.
"You heard the man, get me up."
He met Preach's gaze with a weary smile, tired from just that small show of support. He gave a subtle nod of approval shared just between the two of them before Jaz stepped in between effectively blocking Preach's view as she prepared to help get the man upright.
It had gone better than Preach had expected if he was honest with himself. McG's happy drugs had made it possible to get Top up on the horse and the medic jumped up behind him to ensure he stayed on it. Adam had predictably suffered in silence with only a few quiet groans as they levered him up and as the horse started moving. They had taken a slow pace not wanting to trot and jar him any more than needed. Top had ridden with his head down seemingly in his own world, but the tension in his body told volumes of how uncomfortable the ride was for him.
The team moved forward in collective silence, alert eyes scanning the distance hoping to see some landmarks that meant they were getting closer to their target. The miles blurred together as as they crossed the open Mongolian fields putting valuable distance between themselves and the Chinese border. They were about 5 miles in by Preach's calculations when he started to feel a bit more hopeful that things weren't as bad as they had seemed.
By mile 6 he would have laughed at his own naivety if the situation wasn't so dire. They had all been startled out of their thoughts by Top sitting bolt upright. His eyes suddenly alert and panicked straining to get the words out…
"can't... breathe".
"Preach, Amir help me get him down...Jaz grab a blanket" McG began rapid fire orders.
He worked with Amir to lower the man down from the horse but they struggled to hold him as Dalton jerked and twisted in their grasp. They got him down on the blanket, and watched with horror as he coughed and strained, eyes wild with fear, mouth gasping for air unsuccessfully like a fish out of water. Normally calm no matter the circumstance, seeing their leader like this was a new territory none of them was comfortable in. Preach tried to settle him, promising him it would be OK, that McG was going to fix it, that they were going to take care of him. But his platitudes felt hollow, especially coming from him at this moment where the consequences of his decision were so apparent, and anyways Dalton seemed beyond hearing them .
"McG do something" Amir spat out desperately.
Mcg was frantically digging through his pack, "I'm trying, gimmie a minute. Here, Jaz give him more morphine"
She looked doubtfully at the two doses of morphine he had given her, knowing they had already given him one dose less than an hour before.
"Are you sure…."
"McG cut her off before she could finish.
"I'm about to cut him open in the middle of a fucking field and stick a tube in him. Yah, I'm sure."
Eyes widening, she obediently stuck Dalton with the two pens of morphine.
McG pulled his knife out and poured alcohol on it, he dropped the knife, swore, picked it up and re sterilized it. The medic closed his eyes, steeling himself before he reopened them and nodded with determination. He efficiently cut through Adam's shirt and began counting down his ribs feeling for the right spot. Clinically detached and engrossed in his actions he cut into the skin without any hesitation. Being a combat medic meant providing emergency aid in the shittiest of circumstances. McG did what he was trained to do, pushing aside his own feelings, ignoring the palpable panic around him, ignoring the blood, and ignoring the way Top writhed in pain before his eyes rolled back and he went mercifully limp. He inserted the tube, reaching for his stethoscope and listening intently. Finally after a long silent minute where they all seemed to hold their breath collectively, he nodded and sat back. The medic looked forlornly at his blood covered hands for a second before wiping them on his pants with apparent disgust. Preach reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, leaving it for a second before stepping away to regroup.
"Ok. There's no way we can put him back up on a horse at this point. Amir we shouldn't be too far away, maybe 2 clicks. Get riding until you are back near the village. Once you are in view…" He paused and repeated, wanting the directive to be clear. "Once you are in view, make contact, update command and get us an exfil plan that involves a stop at the nearest emergency treatment center they can get access to. We will follow behind you on foot and should be about an hour back if all goes well."
Amir gave a short nod, accepting the bag with their dismantled communication devices and stowing it. He hurried to his horse's side and mounted with ease, uncertain horsemanship forgotten in his haste to help his teammate. He rode off, quickly covering ground and getting smaller and smaller across the flat landscape before he finally disappeared from their sight.