Hello, everyone, hope you all had a very Merry Christmas. I'd like to start by publicly replying to hattieoaks, who left a private comment on the last chapter, but does not accept private replies:
"Yet another great story with no ending! I really enjoy reading all the stories, but for the life of me I can never figure out why most of the time there is no ending. Is this really how people are taught to write these days or do the authors just get tired and give up? I would really love to know the answer as this seems to happen a lot!
Dear hattieoaks, I'm sure even you understand the concept of "work in progress"? It means that a body of work is still being worked on. I find it curious that you rant at my unwillingness to complete the story…. 2 weeks or so after having updated twice, after over a year without any updates!
Moreover, may I remind you that fanfiction is a totally voluntary exercise, that no one gets paid to write and that, therefore, one updates when one can (because there are jobs/family/friends/hobbies/leisure time that keep people very busy?), or when one is struck by inspiration? And that if one wishes to abandon a story, sadly…. one can? All you have to do is to not start reading a story that is not complete. I don't! There's no obligation, here, when one starts to post a story; we do not sign contracts as though a book deal has been struck. We obviously appreciate constructive criticism and positive comments (even negative ones, if polite and well explained), but to think that you have the right to demand whatever…. to come out ranting at the author, who writes for herself as well as for others when she CAN… is pretty messed up, let me tell you! And I'm not even an author who craves kudos, comments and positive reviews (though I obviously like them)… I write because I need to get the story out of my system. This is a hobby, an escape – nothing more. I really love all authors of great fics that I've read in my life, but I understand that I have no right (or morals) to demand anything from them. It's high time you did, too.
And another thing… people are not "taught" to write (most of them, anyway), and that's why you find all degrees of quality in people's writing, here. Some even do it as a training exercise, to improve their writing skills and get better!
So, I hope you are able to understand how out of place your comment was and… keep to published books, from now on, if you want assurances that the story you're reading is well written and has a quick ending. Should you still decide to keep reading mine… patience is what the doctor ordered. Best regards. MM
Another small chapter to move this along.
June 7th, 2019
Friday
Shindand air base
1245 hours
(70 days' radio silence since last text message; 115 days since first text message)
The flurry of activity as the chopper touches down on the makeshift helipad can be explained by the heads up the medics urged the pilot to send ahead; unable to stabilise the patient enough to be confident that she could endure the transfer from the proper landing pad to the hospital doors, they ultimately decide to wing it and ask for permission to land right in front of its entrance.
Steve's strapped against a corner, in total shock at all the masks, cuffs, IVs and medication that they've been pumping into Cath's veins for the last 20 minutes, in a relentless attempt at making her vitals spike up and stabilise. She stops breathing and her heart gives out on one occasion, with the constant swaying of the heli not helping, but eventually the medics manage to bring her back. She's been stripped bare, the old dusty rags that covered her body now shred to pieces and discarded on the floor, and before she's covered with a metallic, shiny blanket, Steve once again notices how gaunt she looks. How sallow her skin appears. How lifeless she is, lying there, taking hit after hit of that infernal set of pads that want to bring her heart back to life with the electricity coursing through her muscles like wildfire. Against her will.
There's already a team of two doctors and three nurses waiting with a gurney by the hospital's door, by the time they arrive. They rush to the helicopter side door and carefully, but efficiently receive the patient - and all her wires and tubes - with great care, turning around quickly to rush her inside. Steve runs in after her but is stopped at the entrance to the makeshift emergency department by another nurse, who tells him he can't accompany Catherine inside. Her look of pity strikes him deep and, at that moment, he truly understands how much Cath's life hangs in the balance.
Half an hour goes by and the 5-0 team returns. Haggard and dishevelled, Steve's been wearing the floor thin, pacing incessantly to try and distract himself from the desperation he feels. Every time someone exits the doors to the room Cath was sent to he pauses, heart beating wildly in his chest and braces for the worst news he could ever get. Every time, the person is not there for them, and his sigh of relief is audible throughout the waiting room.
Hours pass with no news whatsoever. The growing concern of the 5-0 team for their leader is palpable, no one daring to utter a word, other than offering Steve food and drink, which he doggedly refuses, unable to consider his needs, when Catherine's fighting for her life, inside. At some point, Danny comes to him and coaxes Steve to sit down.
"Steve, talk to me."
"Danny…" he huffs, running a hand down his face, on edge.
"Steve, I'm serious. Talk to me. Please."
"I can't think, Danny, I…"
"Look, I don't know what you're going through, right now, but I'm here. Talk to me, tell me what's going through your mind."
"That I can't lose her," Steve deadpans.
Danny breathes slowly, nodding, trying to show his support. "Can we… can we not make assumptions until we hear from the doctors?"
"I've made nothing but assumptions and run scenarios in my head since we found her, Danny. I can think of nothing else."
"I can see you're teetering on the edge, Steve, you need to calm down."
"Don't tell me I need to calm down when it's Catherine in there, Danny," Steve raises his voice and rises from his chair, attracting the attention of the others. "You may have wanted her to stay away forever, but I don't!" he concludes, pointing at himself.
Danny looks down, properly chastised, aware of how brittle Steve's sanity is at that moment. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."
Steve sits back down, deflated. "No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have lashed out at you, none of this is your fault. I'm just really not good company, right now, Danny."
He smiles, nodding. "To be expected, Steve. I'm just trying to distract you. Everyone here will thank me, you're getting everyone on edge, too. Even your mother, the most unfazed woman I've ever met. She actually advised me to stay away and let you wear the floor thin, but I'm sure the maintenance staff will thank me, eventually."
"She was right, you know," and a slight, almost imperceptible upturn of lips shows.
"Hmm?" Danny breathes, slightly relieved.
"Brave of you to even try to get my attention, I'd say."
"We're talking now, right? I'd call that a positive result. Although… you still haven't told me anything about what's going on in that mind of yours," Danny waves his hands in Steve's general direction.
"Nothing you can't imagine, I'm sure."
Sighing deeply, slightly annoyed, Danny nods. "I'd still like to hear you say it, though."
"Look, Danny, I can't-"
At that precise moment, a short, stubby man with a balding head dressed in scrubs approaches the door to the waiting room and stops, hesitantly looking for someone and Steve's heart almost stops. Captain Hamilton shows up behind him and enters the room, headed in Steve's direction. The man follows him.
"Commander, may we have a word?" he nods, indicating a corner and with it, that Danny is not to be privy to their conversation. Danny moves away after throwing Steve a nervous smile of encouragement and a pat on his back.
Captain Hamilton points his hand at the other man. "This is Doctor Hammerstein. He's Lieutenant Rollins' doctor. Now, Commander, while you are not Lieutenant Rollins' next of kin, you once were, and there's no one else here, right now. Her parents…"
"Please, don't call them yet," Steve begs, "they're thousands of miles away, with no idea that Catherine was even kidnapped. It'll be a huge shock to them, all this…"
"I am aware of that," Captain Hamilton says, smiling wanly. "That is why, despite the irregularity of the situation, we've agreed that you should be informed. Of the basics. I'm afraid I already called Admiral Rollins – a good friend – and told him to get here as soon as possible."
Steve gulps, breath stolen immediately. "Thank you, I appreciate it, I guess that was inevitable." Then, turning to the doctor, he stares. "Doctor? How is she? What's going on?"
The man looks to Captain Hamilton once again and, after a curt nod from his superior officer, reluctantly concedes.
"She's alive," he starts and stops, looking Steve in the eyes, fully cognizant of what the man before him was most scared of.
Steve gasps and feels an irresistible urge to sit down, legs failing him. "Oh, thank God. Is she out of danger?"
"Yes, we've managed to stabilise her. She's under sedation, though, due to her injuries and general condition." The doctor stops.
Steve sighs, looking at him. "What else, doc?"
"The usual. Blood loss. Dehydration. Exhaustion. Shock. Infection. Concussion."
Each word out of the doctor's mouth is like a dagger being turned in his gut. He closes his eyes and concentrates on his breathing.
"She also has a few broken ribs and a broken arm, as well as a dislocated shoulder, on the other side. And…" he hesitates.
"And?" Steve presses, preparing for the worst.
"Deep gashes, presumably from a whip. Several. In varying degrees of healing. Which means-"
Steve raises a hand, stopping him. "Yeah, I can guess. What else?" He pointedly looks at the man.
"That's all I can divulge for now, I'm afraid. Her body will heal, in time. But…" he sighs.
"Her PTSD will take much longer. Yeah, I know."
The doctor sighs, looking at Captain Hamiton again. "Something like that, yes. Well, let me get back to my patient."
Captain Hamilton thanks him and the men nod at each other.
"Sir, what else is there, that I'm not being told?"
"Commander, I am not at liberty to say, as you may imagine. Only her father may-"
"Sir, please. That woman, in there…"
Hamilton smiles sadly at Steve. "I can still recognise two people in love, Commander. But unfortunately, my hands are tied. You need to focus on the fact that you found her and that she's alive and stable, for the moment. As soon as her father arrives, he'll be able to let you know more. He did ask me to tell you…"
"Yes, Sir?" He asks, surprised at the level of insight from a man he barely knows.
"Thank you, from the bottom of his heart, for finding his little girl and rescuing her. He's en route, already, Commander, he was stationed in a ship in the middle of the Mediterranean, so he won't be long."
Steve hangs his head, defeated. He knows Navy protocol and, even though none of them are active Navy personnel anymore, the rules still apply to him, at least.
"Sir, may I ask something of you?"
"Of course, Commander."
"Sir, I don't know how much you are aware of in this case, but… well, you know how the CIA operates. Lieutenant Rollins was kidnaped, as far as we can ascertain, over four months ago and the CIA has been giving her parents and me the runaround ever since. They knew they'd dropped the ball and not only refused to acknowledge it, but also to actively look for her. If we hadn't come…"
"I am well aware of the CIA's methods and its tendency to cover its own hide in every instance, Commander. Believe me, I have shared a space with them for long enough to know how they operate."
"That's just it, Sir. If they get wind that Lieutenant Rollins has been found and is here… Well, you know what'll happen."
"Yes, they will take her away under the cover of darkness even before she's stable enough to be moved, and you must want her safe and recovering. Which is why I had her registered under a different name and ordered a very few select people to tend to her. No one is to say a word. Why do you think she was brought here, to this secondary, campaign hospital?"
Steve's speechless; his level of gratitude for Captain Hamilton's understanding of the situation knows no bounds, right now. "Thank you, Sir. Thank you."
"Commander, like I said, I am very good friends with her father. Also, I am fully aware of what's at stake here. Besides…" he says, laughing encouragingly at Steve. "I like her. You, too."
"Sir, I…"
"No, no, Commander, let's not go into that. Now, this is what we'll do. We will await the arrival of Admiral Rollins – incognito - and he can then decide where she is to be taken. I will try my best to keep her name from any official records and find you all discreet transportation out of here. How's that?"
"More than I will ever be able to repay you for, Sir," Steve enunciates, extending a hand at his superior officer.
Captain Hamilton shakes it fiercely and turns, leaving the room.
