base would know she and Cooper had spent a few hours together.
‘Seems he was out running when he came across the guys fighting with two locals outside the pub. Pulverising them was his summation. Something about the soldiers defending a young woman.’
Why was Cooper running in the middle of the night? Sophie shut her door and led the way outside. ‘The police involved?’
‘Our MPs and the state troopers. The troopers have taken the civilians to their hospital. We’ve got our morons to deal to.’
‘Maybe not morons if they were looking out for a woman.’ Any male who could go past a woman, or any one, in trouble wasn’t worthy of being called a man. Unlike Cooper. Even now she could feel his body covering hers in that dirt as the air had exploded around them.
‘Huh,’ grunted Simone.
‘Nothing too serious reported in the way of injuries, though we have a minor knife wound and a couple of black eyes,’ Cooper informed Sophie the moment she stepped inside the medical unit and noted the four men waiting to be checked over. ‘Noisy but not drunk,’ he added.
Two MPs were trying to hold one of the men upright but he seemed determined not to use his legs for some reason.
‘Wonderful,’ she muttered.
I got up for this?
‘I told Simone not to bother you but she wouldn’t listen.’ Cooper was peeved about something. Being ignored by her nurse probably. Well, Simone was never going to look at him twice. He was a male.
The noise level was rising. Standing to attention, she yelled in her best parade-ground voice, ‘Soldiers, quiet.’
The room instantly became silent. Sheepish men in various states of disarray froze on the spot.
‘Stand up straight. Including you.’ She nodded at the man the MPs were holding. She didn’t lower the decibels. Only one way to treat the soldiers when they were in this state, and that was to remind them who and what they were. Pointing to a table, she snapped, ‘Form a line over there.’
‘Want me to take the stab wound?’ Cooper asked into the quiet.
Sophie nodded. ‘All yours. Simone, who’s next?’
Simone led a man across and pushed him onto a chair. ‘Sergeant Dexter took a direct hit in the eye and another on the back of the head, Captain.’
Sergeants were supposed to prevent their men getting into trouble, not be in the thick of it. Unless he’d been trying to stop the fight. ‘What happened, Sergeant?’
‘Looking out for my men, Captain.’ His mouth was a flat line.
‘I meant your injuries.’
‘Took a fist in the face, twice. Hit the back of my head on the kerb when I went down, ma’am.’
Sophie tilted the man’s head forward and examined the wound at the back. The bleeding had stopped. ‘I’m going to put some stitches in here.’
‘Thank you, ma’am.’
‘How’s your vision? Any blurriness?’
He shook his head and winced. ‘No, ma’am.’
This was not the time to be brave, but Sophie knew better than to say so. He had a reputation to uphold in front of his men. She held out a penlight torch. ‘Hold this for me.’
His reaction was swift and firm.
‘Good. Headache?’
‘No.’ Again he winced.
‘Care to rethink your answer?’ She stared at him for a long moment but got nothing back. His head would be thumping. Male pride could be plain stupid. ‘Sergeant, you’ve taken a hard hit on your skull, which could’ve shaken your brain, resulting in a concussion.’
‘I understand.’
She’d give him a concussion herself if he didn’t start answering her questions honestly. Retrieving the torch, she shone it into the corner of his good eye. The man blinked rapidly. ‘Sure there’s no fogginess in your sight? Or your head?’
‘I can see you clearly.’
Guess that was something. ‘What about the other side of the room? Can you read the top line on the notice-board?’
One side of his mouth lifted in a wry smile. ‘Staff rosters for August.’
She gave up. Being stubborn was something she understood all too well. ‘I want you to come and see me the moment you feel any nausea, have blurred vision or a strong headache. Understand?’ When he nodded, she continued. ‘About this other eye...’
It was swollen shut. Not a lot she could do until the swelling went down. After cleaning his grazed cheek and forehead with disinfectant in case he got an infection, she picked up a needle and syringe. ‘I’m giving you a local anaesthetic so I can suture the back of your head. Ready?’
The sergeant turned whiter. ‘Yes.’
Within minutes she’d finished and was tugging her gloves off to toss in the bin. Then she unlocked the drugs cabinet and put a few antibiotic tablets in a bottle. ‘Here you go. One every twelve hours until they’re finished. And some analgesics.’
Reluctantly he took them, and quickly shoved them in his pocket. ‘Thank you, ma’am.’ And he was gone.
Shaking her head, she called, ‘Who’s next?’
‘Bruised ribs and a punch to the gut,’ Simone informed her as she nodded to a lance corporal to approach.
‘I’ll check those ribs,’ Sophie said. He might need an X-ray. Pressing carefully over the reddened, swollen area, she judged the lad’s reactions and with what she could feel decided he’d been lucky. ‘Take it easy for the next couple days.’
Cooper was finishing up suturing a corporal’s knife wound, and glanced up as Sophie approached. ‘This man won’t be holding a rifle for a few days. The knife went nearly through to the other side at one place.’
A commotion at the unit’s door had Sophie whipping around to see what was going on. The room spun. Grabbing at the nearby table, she held on until her head returned to normal.
‘Sophie? Captain Ingram?’ Cooper was before her, reaching for her arms.
She stepped back on shaky legs. ‘I’m fine, Captain.’ There was no air in the room. Her feet were leaden. ‘I’m fine,’ she repeated more forcefully.
‘I’ll see what the racket is about.’ His lips were tight and his eyes were shooting daggers in her direction.
Just then an MP and a soldier pushed inside, the sergeant she’d released held between them, his head lolling forward.
‘Put him on the bed,’ she ordered as she focused on work and not the pounding behind her eyes. ‘What happened?’
