Fire Team Echo: NEO by John W McIntire

Author:John W McIntire [McIntire, John W]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-04-20T16:00:00+00:00

14

As the assault carrier moved through Cronus' atmosphere, Bennett tried her hardest not to laugh. While she may not have made a sound, she was certain that there was a goofy grin plastered on her face.

Of most of the Marines on board, she was one of the few who had ever stepped foot on a planet before, meaning she had the rare experience of being on a ship while it was entering an atmosphere. Watching Weber, Hernandez and Markos' teeth chattering as they gripped what was affectionately called the 'Oh Shit!' bar—which wasn't actually a bar, but a loop of fabric attached to the PAC's bulkhead—she couldn't help but to find the humour in the situation.

If any of them noticed that she was watching them, they didn't show it. Instead, they were focused on the fact that they were being thrown around by the turbulence. Bennett understood. Although her first time had been years ago—when she was a small child—she still had the vivid memory of the pain when she had bitten almost through her tongue.

These weren't children, however. They were grown men and Marines. If they bit their tongue, it would be their own fault and she knew all too well that whoever did it would never live it down.

Turning to the front of the PAC, Bennett's mind snapped back to the situation at hand. In less than half an hour, they would be on the ground and dealing with civilians. The brief had told them to expect casualties. Bennett didn't know how she was going to react to that, but the idea of hurt children turned a knot in her stomach thanks to Markos. Without him, she wasn’t sure the thought would have crossed her mind at all.

There was something about their current situation that felt wrong, but she couldn't quite figure it out. With a total of five people on it, the PAC was nearly empty, but that was because their job was to escort people onto the assault carrier so they could be evacuated to the Nimitz. Unless there was a dire and urgent need for medical attention—or some other unforeseen need for supervision— the Marines would not be taking the PAC up with every ship.

That was it, Bennett realised. That's exactly what was missing.

If they had been briefed to expect casualties, where the hell were the Corpsman?

Bennett—like every other grunt—had the basics of combat first aid drilled into her over and over again, but this wasn't combat. This was exhausted, hungry and terrified civilians. There would be no need to dress a sucking chest wound.

No, if somebody were to need medical assistance, they would need a professional. A Corpsman.

"Corporal Weber," she screamed over the roar of reentry. He turned his head, looking a lot more miserable than she would have expected from him. His eyes demanded that she spit it out. "Where are all of the Corpsman?"

The Corporal shook his head, his meaning clear. He would tell her later. Weber lowered his head and went back to staring at a point between his knees.

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