09-15-2016, 09:43 PM
Sergeant Amadei Kalinowski followed swift on the heels of two operators, hefting his gear as they descended the final stairs and emerged into the hallway that led to the private residence of the Ascendancy. Having been recruited from Assault Team Vega to the Zenith Avanced Reliancers two years prior, he was a bastion of calm focus, even as the two leading operators swept the scene beyond for threats.
"Clear,"
one voice echoed down the hall. A second confirmed it, "Clear!"
Two years ago he never would have imagined himself in the bowels of the Kremlin, but what man ever did? Even hailing from a long line of servicemen devoted to the Pontifical Swiss Guard, the men that protected His Holiness the Pope over the centuries, he did not expect to be entrusted with such a responsibility for the Ascendancy.
With the assurance of safety, Amadei honed his focus on the task at hand, shifting his thoughts from his weapon to the medic gear on his person, and rounded the corner. The rest of the team followed behind.
One of the initial operators led him to their man. Amadei's gaze quickly assessed the surrounding room as picked his way across the rubble: two wounded, and with a raise of the brows for the man with a sword thrust through his chest, one likely dead. Burns, lots of burns. They were secondary for now. There was one priority in this room, and he quickly knelt alongside the prone body of the Ascendancy. He was vaguely aware of one of his fellow operators calling the official all-clear, and another on communications requesting evacuation to be at the ready, but it was background noise. As far as Amadei was concerned, he was not going to leave his man until one of them was dead. It was his team's job to make sure he didn't take a bullet to the skull before then.
He first pulled shears and stripped away the Ascendancy's blood-soaked shirt. Body armor went next, sliced off the man's torso with heavier-duty tactical shears. Blood obscured most of the gunshot's exit wound on the back. His voice lifted an order high, he was in charge now. "Gunshot wound, upper right thorax. Arzt, prepare to roll him over."
One of the intial operators knelt opposite where he worked. Even as he spoke, a dressing was made ready, and experienced eyes pressed it exactly in place, taping it down. "On my mark, roll my way. Three. Two. One. Roll."
The two men hefted the Ascendancy supine. His arm flopped limp at his side, his head rolled. Pink bubbles ringed the entrance wound on the right side of the chest, which meant he was breathing. The bullet could not have hit the heart then. He would have been DOA otherwise.
A second dressing was pressed to the entrance wound, but not taped down so air could escape the injured lung within. Quickly, a stethescope came out next, and he checked lung sounds, confirming what he already knew. Hemopneumothorax. He readied a chest tube while he quickly surveyed the rest of the man's body for fatal injuries. More burn marks, like the previous female and male. His arms and stomach were red with blisters, third degree in some places, second degree in most others. The skin around a wrist watch was charred through the dermis almost as if he had caught on fire there. His hair was scorched around the metal band ringing his skull, but none of these injuries warranted attention at the moment.
He knelt to get the right angle, aiming for just under the twelth rib, when a shadow fell across his line of sight.
"Step the hell away!"
He barked at the operator that came up to watch from behind. The shadow quickly moved, and Amadei growled annoyance before going back to the chest tube. Elegant hands expertly inserted it, piercing the pleural space as he listened with the stethescope for sound changes. The Ascendancy didn't move with the procedure, he was hell out then. Blood flowed out, and Amadei knew he was in the right spot, draining the lung. Good. It was quickly taped in place and followed with more barked orders. "Get the back board ready."
As Arzt was unfolding the board, Amadei started an IV with a quick dose of lactated ringers solution to replenish electrolytes, and held the bag up, "keep this held high, above the heart."
A third operator, he didn't see which one, took it. "On my mark, ready to transfer. Three. Two. One. Transfer,"
he and Arzt lifted the Ascendancy to the board, strapped him down and readied for the hand off to evac. Before they did, he gave the man a dose of Trapanal to sedate him. It was an old drug, but the best at quick coma induction. He intubated him, and hooked the airway to a manual oxygenator bag until it was taken over by evac.
With the hand off to evac after a brief consult with Amadei on the patient's condition and treatment, he was relieved of duty for their priority. Now, he was able to turn his attentions to the others in the room as their man was hurried out.
He went to the young male next, the one laying near where the Ascendancy had been. A quick assessment found only burn marks, to a greater degree and covering a greater percentage of the body than the Ascendancy. As he did before, Amadei again stripped the man's shirt and assessed the torso. Nothing was the obvious cause for his comatose state, and burns, even third degree burns splitting the skin on his face, did not account for it either, He carefully listened to heart and lung sounds. Breathing was unobstructed, but slow and fluid, almost like he had pneumonia. The heart was sluggish, as though the man's blood pressure was off the charts, but again, no obvious electrical dysfunction.
"Back board him and hand off to evac,"
Amadei ordered and picked his way back toward the hallway, changing gloves as he did, discarding them on the floor.
He passed by the man with a sword jutting out of his chest. Another piece of debris appeared to be lodged in his back. There was no point checking him until last. He was long gone. The girl nearby, however, was covered in blood, and he wondered how much of it was the man's.
Like the young man that evac was hauling away, the young woman was covered in burns, albeit to a lesser degree than the others, but nothing that accounted for loss of consciousness. The shears cut her outer clothing and armor away. She was more heavily armored than the Ascendancy, that was for sure.
He listened to her heart and lungs, and did a quick assessment of her thorax. Like the previous male, she sounded as though she had pneumonia and off the charts hypertension. Bruising on the left was indicative of rib injuries, and he was careful to listen to all the quadrants of the lung on that side. Despite the diminished lung sounds, she was stable. "Back board and prepare for evac,"
he ordered.
***
Nikolai was taken by Kremlin helicopter to
Central Clinical Hospital, the closest and most prestigious hospital in the Dominance, if not the entire CCD. The heavily guarded facility was located seven miles northwest of the Kremlin in an exclusive, wooded suburban area known as Kuntsovo. While the hospital was open to the public and anyone may theoretically be admitted and treated there, its fees and charges were well beyond the means of most in order to retain its elitist image.
Marcus and Aria were taken to the same hospital by ambulance. While news of the Ascendancy's condition would be kept secret, there was no denying the fact that two ambulances carried someone.
"Clear,"
one voice echoed down the hall. A second confirmed it, "Clear!"
Two years ago he never would have imagined himself in the bowels of the Kremlin, but what man ever did? Even hailing from a long line of servicemen devoted to the Pontifical Swiss Guard, the men that protected His Holiness the Pope over the centuries, he did not expect to be entrusted with such a responsibility for the Ascendancy.
With the assurance of safety, Amadei honed his focus on the task at hand, shifting his thoughts from his weapon to the medic gear on his person, and rounded the corner. The rest of the team followed behind.
One of the initial operators led him to their man. Amadei's gaze quickly assessed the surrounding room as picked his way across the rubble: two wounded, and with a raise of the brows for the man with a sword thrust through his chest, one likely dead. Burns, lots of burns. They were secondary for now. There was one priority in this room, and he quickly knelt alongside the prone body of the Ascendancy. He was vaguely aware of one of his fellow operators calling the official all-clear, and another on communications requesting evacuation to be at the ready, but it was background noise. As far as Amadei was concerned, he was not going to leave his man until one of them was dead. It was his team's job to make sure he didn't take a bullet to the skull before then.
He first pulled shears and stripped away the Ascendancy's blood-soaked shirt. Body armor went next, sliced off the man's torso with heavier-duty tactical shears. Blood obscured most of the gunshot's exit wound on the back. His voice lifted an order high, he was in charge now. "Gunshot wound, upper right thorax. Arzt, prepare to roll him over."
One of the intial operators knelt opposite where he worked. Even as he spoke, a dressing was made ready, and experienced eyes pressed it exactly in place, taping it down. "On my mark, roll my way. Three. Two. One. Roll."
The two men hefted the Ascendancy supine. His arm flopped limp at his side, his head rolled. Pink bubbles ringed the entrance wound on the right side of the chest, which meant he was breathing. The bullet could not have hit the heart then. He would have been DOA otherwise.
A second dressing was pressed to the entrance wound, but not taped down so air could escape the injured lung within. Quickly, a stethescope came out next, and he checked lung sounds, confirming what he already knew. Hemopneumothorax. He readied a chest tube while he quickly surveyed the rest of the man's body for fatal injuries. More burn marks, like the previous female and male. His arms and stomach were red with blisters, third degree in some places, second degree in most others. The skin around a wrist watch was charred through the dermis almost as if he had caught on fire there. His hair was scorched around the metal band ringing his skull, but none of these injuries warranted attention at the moment.
He knelt to get the right angle, aiming for just under the twelth rib, when a shadow fell across his line of sight.
"Step the hell away!"
He barked at the operator that came up to watch from behind. The shadow quickly moved, and Amadei growled annoyance before going back to the chest tube. Elegant hands expertly inserted it, piercing the pleural space as he listened with the stethescope for sound changes. The Ascendancy didn't move with the procedure, he was hell out then. Blood flowed out, and Amadei knew he was in the right spot, draining the lung. Good. It was quickly taped in place and followed with more barked orders. "Get the back board ready."
As Arzt was unfolding the board, Amadei started an IV with a quick dose of lactated ringers solution to replenish electrolytes, and held the bag up, "keep this held high, above the heart."
A third operator, he didn't see which one, took it. "On my mark, ready to transfer. Three. Two. One. Transfer,"
he and Arzt lifted the Ascendancy to the board, strapped him down and readied for the hand off to evac. Before they did, he gave the man a dose of Trapanal to sedate him. It was an old drug, but the best at quick coma induction. He intubated him, and hooked the airway to a manual oxygenator bag until it was taken over by evac.
With the hand off to evac after a brief consult with Amadei on the patient's condition and treatment, he was relieved of duty for their priority. Now, he was able to turn his attentions to the others in the room as their man was hurried out.
He went to the young male next, the one laying near where the Ascendancy had been. A quick assessment found only burn marks, to a greater degree and covering a greater percentage of the body than the Ascendancy. As he did before, Amadei again stripped the man's shirt and assessed the torso. Nothing was the obvious cause for his comatose state, and burns, even third degree burns splitting the skin on his face, did not account for it either, He carefully listened to heart and lung sounds. Breathing was unobstructed, but slow and fluid, almost like he had pneumonia. The heart was sluggish, as though the man's blood pressure was off the charts, but again, no obvious electrical dysfunction.
"Back board him and hand off to evac,"
Amadei ordered and picked his way back toward the hallway, changing gloves as he did, discarding them on the floor.
He passed by the man with a sword jutting out of his chest. Another piece of debris appeared to be lodged in his back. There was no point checking him until last. He was long gone. The girl nearby, however, was covered in blood, and he wondered how much of it was the man's.
Like the young man that evac was hauling away, the young woman was covered in burns, albeit to a lesser degree than the others, but nothing that accounted for loss of consciousness. The shears cut her outer clothing and armor away. She was more heavily armored than the Ascendancy, that was for sure.
He listened to her heart and lungs, and did a quick assessment of her thorax. Like the previous male, she sounded as though she had pneumonia and off the charts hypertension. Bruising on the left was indicative of rib injuries, and he was careful to listen to all the quadrants of the lung on that side. Despite the diminished lung sounds, she was stable. "Back board and prepare for evac,"
he ordered.
***
Nikolai was taken by Kremlin helicopter to
Central Clinical Hospital, the closest and most prestigious hospital in the Dominance, if not the entire CCD. The heavily guarded facility was located seven miles northwest of the Kremlin in an exclusive, wooded suburban area known as Kuntsovo. While the hospital was open to the public and anyone may theoretically be admitted and treated there, its fees and charges were well beyond the means of most in order to retain its elitist image.
Marcus and Aria were taken to the same hospital by ambulance. While news of the Ascendancy's condition would be kept secret, there was no denying the fact that two ambulances carried someone.