Captain Norton, Peña, and Fisher carried Sanders precariously down to the beach. The steep incline offered no help in navigating. At one point, the ground gave way beneath Fisher’s feet. He slipped and caught himself with one hand, never letting go of his end of the stretcher. Cynthia gasped and started to rush forward, but she stopped when he regained his footing and Sanders stayed stable and steady. She didn’t even realize she was holding her breath until they reached the boat, and she slowly let it out. McBride stepped forward and helped Sanders aboard the craft.

Cynthia turned and gestured to the ground. “Please sit, Lieutenant Osbourne.”

He raised both eyebrows. “Doc, if I get down, I don’t know if I’ll get back up.”

She checked his leg again. She could feel the heat through his pants. She’d love to remove them and check the pulse in his lower leg but would wait until they arrived at the embassy in a few hours.

“Hang in there, Doctor,” she said, deeply respectful of his grit. “You’ll be sitting in the boat in no time.” She looked at the boat and flinched as Sanders tried to sit up. “I’m going to go down and supervise Sergeant Sanders on the boat,” she said to Swanson. “I’ll leave Ozzy here in your capable hands.”

Only when she started down the incline did she realize just how steep it was. How those men had maneuvered a stretcher carrying a grown man down what amounted to a cliff face amazed her. She slipped on the red dirt, and her heel caught on a rock. She went down, landing hard on her rear.

“You okay, Doc?” Captain Norton asked as they climbed back up the hill.

She carefully regained her footing and brushed at the backside of her pants. “I think so.”

She continued the semicontrolled descent. At the bottom of the hill, she walked over to the raft. It had looked much smaller folded up in the back of the truck. She climbed in and maneuvered her way over to where Sanders sat, propped up against the corner. His skin had turned very pale, and his face shone with perspiration.

“How are we doing, Bill?” she asked, kneeling next to him.

“I think if I get to sit perfectly still, I’ll be okay,” he said, panting. He opened his eyes and looked at her. “I’d rather be lying in a warm bed right now.”

She winked. “You and me both.”

Intentionally not watching the descent of the crew carrying Ozzy, she focused instead on checking Sanders’s vitals. Just as she finished noting his blood pressure, the team arrived. She stepped over the bench seating and worked her way to where Ozzy sat propped in the corner, one leg bent and the other stretched in front of him.

“Okay, Ozzy,” she said. “Let’s check you out.”