The Marines Laughed at the Quiet Nurse — Until Their Sniper Went Down and She Picked Up His Rifle
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Chapter 15 / 28
PART 15
A round cracked against the stone beside my head.
Briggs screamed, “Doc, get down!”
I looked toward the ridge.
A shooter was repositioning above us.
Not spraying.
Choosing.
Patient.
He was waiting for anyone to expose themselves long enough to command the retreat.
Miller shouted into the radio.
“We need suppression! We need smoke!”
The answer came back broken.
“Hold position. Air support delayed. Hold position.”
Hold position meant die slowly.
I opened Weston’s plate carrier and packed his wound.
“You’re going to hate this,” I said.
“What part?”
“The part where I borrow your rifle.”
May you like
His eyes sharpened.
Even bleeding, Weston understood before the others did.
