Chapter Text
"Fore!"
Fernando's voice echoed across the valley, bouncing off the distant mountains, as he watched the golfball he'd just punted fly through the air, over the dirt road leading into the camp, past the nurses' showers. Mark let out a low whistle, shielding the sun from his eyes with his hand as he watched the ball.
"Got some distance on that one, Nando." He commented, squinting as he continued to watch the ball fall, eyes widening as it flew right over the minefield sign.
"Farther than you!" Fernando grinned, placing the driver across his shoulders and putting his hand on his hip.
"Ah, I wouldn't be too sure about tha-" They both winced at the sound of one of the landmines going off, a sharp explosion, followed by a column of dust and dirt rising up into the air. They could hear a distant, yet shrill scream of surprise. Fernando's head dropped as Mark made a cartoonish grimace.
"And I'm afraid that's a foul," Mark said, putting his hand on Fernando's shoulder, "sorry mate." Fernando looked up at the minefield, eyes narrowed.
"Best two out of three?" The Spaniard suggested hopefully.
"If I win you buy me a drink." Mark said, grabbing another dirt-stained ball from the bucket beside him. Fernando scoffed.
"We have a still in our tent!" He exclaimed.
"Then buy me a drink that won't make my liver stage a revolt." Mark countered, swinging his driver back and forth, lining up his shot. Fernando snorted.
"What liver? You have no liver."
"Not since I came here at least." Mark grunted, pulling back his arms to swing, when they heard frantic panting and footsteps behind them. Mark turned around, lowering his arms as Fernando looked over his shoulder. They could see someone blonde running up the slope towards them, hand clamped firmly on the cap on his head to keep it from flying off. He ran all the way up to them, coming to a hard stop, bent halfway over, panting heavily.
"Ch… ch…ch…" The young boy stuttered in between gasps for air.
"Geez Dany, take a minute, don't have a heart attack on us." Mark said, tossing his driver to the side.
"We can't afford to break in a new company clerk." Fernando added with a smirk. Dany rolled his eyes in response, but stood up straighter, taking a few deep breaths. He swallowed and took one more breath before speaking.
"Choppers incoming, sirs. Supposed to be a lot of casualties, they tried to take a hill." Dany explained, looking towards the pass the choppers usually came in through. Not a second later, they could hear a distant, mechanical buzzing, the first of the dark green choppers with their telltale red crosses flying in-between the pass in the mountains, heading straight for them, the upper landing pad.
"I don't know how you do it Dany." Mark said, clapping the clerk on the shoulder as he saw an ambulance tear down the road below them. The kid had a knack for predicting things.
"Attention all personnel, incoming casualties from the road and the chopper pads, report to triage and operating room on the double! Looks like we're in it for the long haul today!" It was impossible to tell who was on the PA. Max? Carlos? Sergio?
"Keep up the good work, comrade!" Fernando yelled as he ran down the slope towards where the ambulance was now parked.
"Stop calling me that!" Dany yelled indignantly, huffing as he turned around towards the chopper pads. Mark looked down at the scene in front of the hospital, enlisted men carrying out soldier upon soldier on stretchers, laying them out so that the nurses could do triage. He felt his heart sink as he realized just how many wounded there were. It wasn't the workload, it was the sheer amount of suffering that depressed him. He could hear the moans and screams from all the way up on the upper pad, red on white, green on brown, the usual palette of Korea.
"Webber!" Someone shouted, breaking him out of his thoughts. Mark blinked, eyes focusing on who was in front of him. Blonde hair, blue eyes, looking extremely irritated, none other than Head Nurse Nico "Hot Lips" Rosberg. "We need you for triage up here!"
"Right." Mark nodded, jogging after Nico along with a gaggle of enlisted men, the two of them crouching low to the ground as the chopper eased itself onto one of the red landing strips, the wind from the rotating blades making their hair fly is every direction, kicking up dust around them. The chopper landed, finally, and Mark immediately went for one of the two stretchers attached to the side of the chopper, checking on the soldier.
"He's got a superficial chest wound, he can wait a bit." Mark yelled over the slowing chopper rotors, hurrying over to the other stretcher. "Severed artery in the leg, get him in now, I'll take him first after I sterilize, I may be able to save the leg." Mark called to Nico, who nodded in response.
"Got it, doctor." Nico grunted, picking up the stretcher of Mark's patient as Mark raced down the hill, past another group of nurses running up to the pad, narrowly avoiding another incoming ambulance, making a beeline for the hospital. Mark rushed into the sterilization room, slamming the doors open and nearly running into someone.
"Look out Mark, we can't afford to be down a doctor!" Michael chided him, dodging around him easily and grabbing his white scrubs from the hook behind him. Schumacher was the senior of the doctors, who'd been with the 1046 since the day it was established. He'd been in the outfit longer than Lieutenant Colonel Arrivabene.
"I know, I know." Mark sighed, turning on one of the sinks and grabbing a bar of soap, scrubbing his hands and arms quickly under the scalding water. He could barely feel the heat of the water now, he was too used to it, his hands were too calloused. Michael looked out of the small glass window in the door leading into pre-op, looking into the compound, surveying the wounded.
"Another day, huh?" Michael asked. He couldn't hide the weariness in his voice, the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced than ever as he turned to look at Mark.
"Yeah." Mark sighed, watching the red dirt wash off his hands and swirl towards the drain. There was a copper colored ring around the dingy metal drain, and Mark couldn't tell if it was buildup of dirt, or blood.
"Just another day."