Hemingway - Zoe Dawson Page 0,9
him. Every time he tried to move, the dog dug in deeper and the guy’s screams got more desperate.
Dodger rushed over. “Max!” he shouted. “Mak!”
Mak was on her knees, her hand clutched to her shoulder as blood soaked into her white shirt. She’d pushed up the NVGs and there was an anxious look on her face. “Max,” she said, her voice subdued, filling with shock. Fuck. She’d been hit.
Max tried to pull in air, but struggled, the edges of his conscious going gray. Had he failed her? Pitbull?
“Medic!” Dodger screamed and there were running feet. Saint’s face materialized above him as Dodger covered them.
“Mak,” Max gasped out, indicating to Saint he wanted her taken care of before him. Saint turned to her and with precision ripped open her sleeve.
“No,” she said, her voice shaky, pulling away from him. “Take care of him first. It’s a flesh wound.”
Saint applied a pressure bandage to her arm, set her hand there to hold it, then turned back to him. “Hey, buddy. Breathe slow and easy. She’s in good shape.” He turned to Dodger and said, “Help me get his vest off.” They pulled and unwound him from his armor, the pain intensifying, and he gritted his teeth, panting. Mak was still kneeling next to him.
He tried to keep his attention on Saint, but his eyes flickered closed. “Come on, Max. Stay with me. Let me see those baby blues.”
Max huffed a laugh at Saint’s drawl. Someone was restraining the downed tango and Max weakly called Jugs off. “Target is secure.” The dog came running back over to him, blood on his muzzle and sniffed around, then whined softly. Max reached up and petted him. “It’s okay, buddy,” he whispered.
Jugs lay down next to him and even though Saint nudged him away a bit, he refused to move.
“Move, Jughead,” Saint said with determined gentleness. Jugs whined again, then moved over slightly. With a huff of wry humor, Saint shone a light, his concerned expression something Max only saw when his teammate was in the heat of battle or taking care of one of them. His eyes were steely, and laser focused on the wound. “Through and through. Looks like it caught you in the fleshly part just below your armpit. It’s those amazing lats, man.” He started working faster, bandaging him up while Max laughed and worked to stay awake, his mind going fuzzy. Probably from the loss of blood.
The gunfire got more sporadic, until it also finally ceased. Dragon’s voice over the comms indicated his target was neutralized.
The sound of a helo coming in for a landing broke the momentary silence as Dodger and Saint worked to get Max on a portable litter they carried with them. Pitbull came over, his gun slung down against his side to help Mak up and hold her against him, murmuring to her. She nodded a couple of times and then looked toward Max. He grinned at her, and she blinked a few times and shook her head. “Thank you,” she said.
Max nodded and briefly met Pitbull’s gaze. The gratitude in his eyes only solidified what it meant to him to be a team guy—brotherhood.
“I got it,” Pitbull said, shouldering Dodger aside as he picked up one corner of the litter, Jugs pacing them as they began to move. The wind from the chopper blew across Max, and Pitbull shielded him from most of the swirling wind. They loaded him into the bird as another larger chopper landed to transport the REACT guys, their prisoners and dead NWO terrorists.
Jugs jumped up as soon as they lowered him to the deck. He settled against his side, the warmth of the dog bolstering him as he buried his hand in the dog’s fur. He made a soft sound and licked Max’s face. “It’s okay, buddy,” he said softly to soothe him, his amber eyes worried.
As soon as the team was situated, Fast Lane looked down at him and said, “You hanging in there, Max?”
“Hoo-yah,” Max said, the morphine kicking in, his speech a bit slurred.
The chopper lifted off and banked toward the north, swinging around to head to the south and Coronado.
From Max’s position on the deck, he had a perfect view outside the door. The sight below them chilled his blood. His arm felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as he lifted it enough to get Dragon’s attention. Dragon looked down to see what Max needed, and he weakly pointed out the open door. Dragon’s eyes widened,