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capt_facepalmAuthor: Capt_Facepalm
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Surgeon John H. Watson, Surgeon-Major Alexander Francis Preston
Summary: Afghanistan
Warnings: none, no slash
Word Count: 221
Author's Notes: First 221B attempt. (All the cool kids are doing them!) Please read and review.
Surgeon, John Watson, sighed as his applied the last stitches to his patient. The boy would live to keep his arm, but not his military career.
A sudden blast shook the ground and left their ears ringing.
Watson tentatively stepped outside.
Bright haze and the dust blinded him; the air tasted of powder and grit. He stumbled to the crater’s edge. His conclusions took no time to draw: They overshot us. We’re now in the kill zone. Watson ran back to report.
“They have repositioned their guns. We have to move. Now!”
“Would you have me leave this man to die?” asked Preston, re-adjusting a clamp. “I doubt you would do so in my position.”
“Then let me take over!” Watson pleaded. “Frank, you have to leave.”
Without looking up, Preston replied “Don’t be ridiculous! John, take everyone with you. Establish a safe fallback position. Move the casualties there.”
He lifted his eyes to meet his friend’s concerned gaze. “That is an order, Captain.”
Cursing, Watson ordered the evacuation, leaving only Major Preston and the patient behind.
The white tent reappeared though the dust and the guns of Ayoub Khan resumed their barrage.
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Surgeon John H. Watson, Surgeon-Major Alexander Francis Preston
Summary: Afghanistan
Warnings: none, no slash
Word Count: 221
Author's Notes: First 221B attempt. (All the cool kids are doing them!) Please read and review.
.oOOo.
The surgery tent only shielded direct sunlight. Canvas walls suspended to deter the dust only contained the heat. The surgeons and their assistants were too busy to complain.Surgeon, John Watson, sighed as his applied the last stitches to his patient. The boy would live to keep his arm, but not his military career.
A sudden blast shook the ground and left their ears ringing.
Watson tentatively stepped outside.
Bright haze and the dust blinded him; the air tasted of powder and grit. He stumbled to the crater’s edge. His conclusions took no time to draw: They overshot us. We’re now in the kill zone. Watson ran back to report.
“They have repositioned their guns. We have to move. Now!”
“Would you have me leave this man to die?” asked Preston, re-adjusting a clamp. “I doubt you would do so in my position.”
“Then let me take over!” Watson pleaded. “Frank, you have to leave.”
Without looking up, Preston replied “Don’t be ridiculous! John, take everyone with you. Establish a safe fallback position. Move the casualties there.”
He lifted his eyes to meet his friend’s concerned gaze. “That is an order, Captain.”
Cursing, Watson ordered the evacuation, leaving only Major Preston and the patient behind.
The white tent reappeared though the dust and the guns of Ayoub Khan resumed their barrage.
.oOOo.
