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a stretcher with a broken wheel, lay Captain Thorne. He was shivering violently, his IV line backed up with blood.
“Elias,” Rachel rushed to his side, checking his thready pulse.
“Rachel,” he mumbled through chattering teeth. “Hostiles… south ridge…”
“No hostiles,” she said firmly, covering him with her own jacket. “Get blankets,” she ordered the soldiers.continue reading …
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