The Navy SEAL told her that he was a corpsman. He had stopped the bleeding, but the patient needed an infusion quickly. A medevac was inbound with blood, but it would be close. The Boxer had a capable operating room; unfortunately, it would be almost an hour before the patient reached the table.

As the SEAL shifted to the side, Peyton held her breath.

Avery lay on the ground, dirt plastered across her pale face and in her blond hair. Her breathing was shallow. Peyton knelt at her side. A six-inch gash ran across her abdomen. The corpsman had done a good job; the wound was packed tight. Splinters from shattered trees dotted her body. Avery murmured a phrase Peyton couldn’t make out. The corpsman had loaded her up with a painkiller. That was good. There wasn’t much else Peyton could do. In truth, the Navy medical officer was better trained to treat battlefield injuries than Peyton was. There was only one thing she could give the young woman, and for that reason, she sat silently, waiting.

Avery cracked her eyes, mumbled again. Peyton gripped her hand. “You’re going to be okay, Avery. Medevac is on the way. Surgeons are already prepped and waiting on you.”

An amused grin formed on Avery’s lips. “You taking care of me now?”

Peyton smiled back at her. “Yeah. I am. You know how I am about that. About my people.”

“Then I know I’m going to make it. You’re a real pain in the ass.”

Peyton laughed—a nervous, cathartic laugh, like a pressure valve releasing the tension from her body. “Look who’s talking,” she shot back.

More seriously, Peyton asked, “Did you get it?”

Avery nodded. “Yeah, we got it.”

We. The word filled Peyton with hope.

Avery’s smile faded. “What did you find in the labs?”

Peyton considered what to say. “Nothing that’ll be a problem.”

A soldier searching the building called out, “Got another one.”

Instinctively Peyton’s head snapped around, seeking out the caller. She desperately wanted to rush over, but she returned her focus to Avery. The blond woman released Peyton’s hand. “Go. That’s one of our people. They need you too.”

“I’ll see you on the Boxer, Avery.”

Peyton stumbled over the bombed-out ground, weaving around bodies and into the ruined building. Up a stairwell littered with debris, she found soldiers pulling wreckage away, revealing more of a body. It was limp. The torso came into view. The chest was caved in. Not breathing.