My last chapter had people scratching their heads. I hope this next installment answers those questions and everyone goes "Oh, now I get it." Thanks to my wonderful editor Dawn and a few of my close friends that are now screaming for number 6, enjoy.
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Lieutenant Commander Dobson tied off the surgical thread and held his hand out for the scissors. As John placed them in his hand, he swabbed the area around the wound for the hundredth time. He looked up at the screen showing Kevin's vital sign. His pulse was still too weak from the amount of blood loss.
When Dobson was done, he tossed the bloody tool into the tray and wiped his brow with his forearm. He looked at the clock on the bulkhead and realized he had now been in surgery for a little more than two hours.
"Not bad for someone that hasn't cracked open a chest since medical school."
The doctor looked at the small green screen to check his patient's condition. The sub only had a limited supply of blood on board and Dobson knew he needed more surgery to repair the artery. He did what he could, but the Tarpon Springs just wasn't set up for battle field surgery.
"I gotta hand it to you Petty Officer Balch. You did very well with the procedure. I've never seen a corpsman with the talent you have. You should really think about med school," Dobson told him.
"Thanks Sir. I did two years in the O.R. at Portsmouth."
"Think you could close up while I go talk to your teammates? I'm sure they're anxious for some news on Mr. Dvorska's condition."
"Not a problem Sir. Let them know I'll be out as soon as I can."
The doctor pulled off his bloody gown and tossed it in the small red container. When he walked out of the room, he leaned up against the cold steel bulkhead and let out a heavy sigh. After collecting his thoughts, he started towards the control room to brief Commander Reinhardt first.
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Adam Dawson sat quietly in one of the small booths that surrounded the Officer's Mess. He avoided eye contact with his team and Garrett, as he sipped the hot coffee and deliberated what his next move should be. He wasn't going to broach the subject of what everyone saw on the bridge of the Naqada if he didn't have to.
He closed his eyes and laid his head back. The image of his wife filled his mind and he found himself silently wishing he were there with her instead of with his team. The image of Laura sobbing uncontrollably took the place of Kristine. His heart grew heavy at the thought of telling her bad news. He prayed that the ship's doctor and his crack medic would get his friend through surgery.
The deafening silence that filled the room was shattered when Commander Reinhardt and his Executive Officer opened the door and walked inside. The doctor followed closely behind them carrying a large mug of coffee.
"Lieutenant, this is Doctor Dobson. He'd like to brief you on your friend's condition," Reinhardt said. The entire team gathered around the table as Dobson sat down across from Adam.
"Nice to meet you Doc, is he going to make it?"
"I'm not going beat around the bush here Lieutenant, he's lucky to be alive. Due to the amount of blood loss and the extent of the wound, he slipped into a coma. It could last a week or it could be permanent. I did what I could to stabilize him, but my training is in nuclear accidents not front line surgery."
"Is he stable enough to transport off the sub?" Adam's voice betrayed his feelings as the team turned their eyes towards him.
"He needs more care than we can give him here. To be brutally honest with you, he has a fifty, fifty shot -- less if we try to move him."
"How do you want to play this Dawson? Your friend here -- Mr. -- Brown, wants me to sink that merchant ship and the sun will be up in a few hours. I can't get you to port until at least tomorrow evening," Reinhardt said.
Adam weighed the decision to follow orders against the life of one of his team members. He needed to get his friend to a real hospital -- but at what cost. His mind flashed to the image of the crew of the Naqada, the zombie like beings, wondering aimlessly in the aft hold. Did his team kill all of them that escaped? There had to be a solution for both problems.
Garret could see the Navy SEAL contemplating the idea of turning for port. "Listen Adam, I'm sorry about Kevin. It sucks to loss one of your men, but my orders are specific. Sink that ship and everyone on it at all costs. You know damn well we can't let that ship get near land."
Adam quickly snapped his head to the far wall. A large map of the Mediterranean was on display and he rushed out of his seat towards it. "Where are we Commander?"
Reinhardt joined him and pointed to an area just south of Sicily. "I could give you a better location in the control room, but somewhere about here."
"This could work. Can you transmit a flash message?"
"I guess so. Who do you want me to send it to?"
Adam went to the bulletin board and pulled a piece of paper down. He wrote quickly and then handed the paper to Commander Reinhardt. His eyes shot open as he looked back up at Adam.
"Are you out of your mind Dawson? You can't land a helicopter on a submarine."
"You can if the pilot has a big enough set of balls. Just send it Commander."
"Okay, it's your funeral." Reinhardt handed the message to his XO and shook his head as he left.
Adam went back over to his team to brief them on his idea. As he passed the doctor leaving the room, Dobson placed his hand on Adam's shoulder. "There is one more thing you should know Lieutenant.
"What is it Doc?"
"That medic of yours deserves a medal. If he hadn't placed those clamps on when he did, your friend would be lying in the ship's morgue instead of sick bay. I had him assist me during the surgery and I can honestly say he's the best I've ever seen. He should be a doctor, not a medic."
"Thanks Doc."
"One more thing -- if you move your teammate, it will be on your call alone."
"I understand and I take full responsibility for it."
