Corpsman by Jonathan P. Brazee

helped bring up the woman. Jessie was knocked back, and as all three of them hit the ground, Tamara was grabbing at the man’s hand.
    “Veal!  What the hell?” Wythe shouted, rolling away from her.  “Are you bat-shit crazy?”
    Tamara was big, but the man was at least 25 kg heavier than her, and he looked like a bull.  He was jerking his arm, shaking Tamara as he rained punch after punch on her head with his free hand.
    Liege took several steps toward them, her mind trying to make sense out of what she was seeing.  All she knew was that someone was beating up her friend.
    She started into a run, leaving the wounded woman behind, when the man’s head jerked and blood poured out of the side of his head, drenching Tamara.  Tamara still held onto the man when Sergeant Priest, the company police sergeant, leveled his old Piedmaster and blew away the hostage’s neck and half of his face.
    “Don’t let go, Marine!” a voice called out.
    Priest, Wythe, and Korf, were kneeling around Tamara, reaching out to keep her hands closed around the hostage’s—although it was pretty clear now he hadn’t been a hostage but was a SevRev—hand.
    “We’ve got it now,” the first sergeant said, standing over her.  “Keep holding it, and we’ll get someone here to disarm this guy.”
    Liege stepped up, giving Tamara the once over, but the blood covering her didn’t seem to be hers.
    “Hey, Korf, can you get off me?” Tamara asked weakly.
    “Oh, shit, sorry,” the PFC said, moving his knee from out of her side.
    “Just don’t let go.  I’m a little woozy, I think.”
    By now a crowd had gathered. The first sergeant ziptied the three Marines’ and the dead SevRev’s hands together.
    Liege stood there a moment longer, but no one other than the SevRev was hurt, and there wasn’t anything she could do for him.  She left the gathered Marines and went back to the woman.  The IV pack was still flowing.
    “Go report to the Chief,” Sergeant Vinter told her.
    “But my patient?”
    “Is she stable?”
    “Yeah, for now,” Liege admitted.
    “Well, you get back to wherever you’re supposed to be, and we’ll get her back to you.”
    Liege knew that made sense, so she started back to where Green team would be forming.  The people around Tamara were being pushed back, and an EOD tech, in full disposal suit, stood over Tamara, Jessie, and Korf.  Evidently things were pretty serious, but Liege had to let the EOD Marine take care of it.  She had her own job to do now.
    “Neves!  Help Dingo,” HM2 Dykstra, the Green Team leader, told her as she walked up to him.
    Liege spent the next ten minutes helping HM3 Jim “Dingo” McAllister evaluate the wounded coming back to the triage station.  She had hoped to have more work, but unless Fox pulled more survivors out of the wreckage, the butcher’s bill was pretty high.  Only 48 hostages had made it back to the collection point.  Twelve of them were seriously hurt and being treated.
    Liege kept listening for an explosion from over where the EOD tech was working.  To her relief, there wasn’t one. 
    The operation was being touted as a success, at least from what she could tell from the newsies who were hovering around.  Only four Marines were WIA, none seriously.  At least twenty SevRevs had been killed, either by Marines or by their own hands.  And 62 hostages—48 escaping to the front and another 14 out the back—had been saved.  And then there was Tamara’s exploits, which had been captured by numerous camcorders.
    With almost 500 dead hostages, though, it didn’t feel like a victory to Liege.  She was glad when the trucks came up to take them back to the stadium in town for the shuttle back up to the ship.
     
     
     
    TARAWA
     
    Chapter 6
     
    “I see you’ve got a good start on things, Jessie,” Liege said as she slid onto the bench seat.
    Wythe lifted a half-empty stein in a salute and simply announced, “Doc!”
    Liege took one of the unused