Updated Mar 23, 2026 • ~6 min read
Chapter 13: GSW to the shoulder
MADISON
The ambush came from the north.
She had been expecting trouble from the east — the intelligence on the compound approach had flagged potential hostile activity in the eastern market corridor — but the ambush came from the north, from a rooftop position that the approach intelligence had rated as low probability. She filed this fact in the operational register with the specific notation that she was going to have words with the intelligence analyst when they were back at base, and also with the separate notation that she was currently under fire and the words could wait.
Her element was three hundred metres from the secondary extraction point when it started: the crack of small arms from above, Dominguez calling *contact north* on the channel, Lee pulling left into the alleyway cover. She moved right — the cover on the right was a doorway, not as solid as the alley but the angle was better.
The angle was better.
She ran the counter-move in three seconds: the rooftop position was elevated and to the north, which meant the effective fire arc extended through the alley but cut off at the doorway’s east wall. From the doorway she could see the extraction point. From the alley, Lee and Dominguez were covered but blind.
She said on the channel: “Bravo element contact north, grid —” she gave the grid “— I have the extraction point line of sight from the doorway. Lee, northeast approach to the point on my signal. Dom, covering fire on the roof position.”
Ryan’s voice came back: “Bravo, Alpha is ninety seconds from your position. Hold.”
She said: “Extraction window closes in four minutes. If we wait for Alpha we lose the window.”
He said: “Madison.”
She said: “I have the line of sight. We go.”
Thirty-eight seconds. Dominguez covering fire, Lee through the northeast approach, Madison moving to the extraction point to cover Lee’s run.
She was halfway to the point when the second shooter opened up from the south.
The round hit her left shoulder from behind and slightly above, which meant she’d run through the southern shooter’s arc without knowing it was there. She felt it as impact before she felt it as pain — the specific physics of a body stopping a projectile — and her left arm went to limited function. She switched her weapon to the right, which she’d trained for because you trained for everything.
She reached the extraction point.
Lee was there. She said: “I’m hit. Functional. Signal Dom.”
Lee signalled. Dominguez came through the northeast approach on the second run, covering both angles now, and they were at the extraction point when Ryan’s element came in from the western approach at exactly ninety seconds.
Ryan looked at her.
She said: “GSW left shoulder. Functional. Let’s go.”
He said: “How bad.”
She said: “I’ll know in twenty minutes. Right now we need to move.”
His expression — she noted it in the operational register and also in the other register, the one she’d been keeping separate. His expression was the expression of a commanding officer assessing a wounded team member’s operational status, and it was also something else. She filed both.
She moved.
They reached the extraction vehicles in four minutes. Torres had the medic kit open before she’d sat down.
The medic — Specialist Fischer, twenty-four, who had patched more soldiers than anyone twice his age should — said: “Through and through, Captain. Clean exit. You’re going to need treatment but the joint is intact.”
She said: “Good.”
He said: “You’re going to be out of rotation for ten days minimum.”
She said: “We’ll see.”
Fischer said: “Captain —”
Ryan said: “Ten days, Madison.”
She looked at him.
He was sitting across from her in the vehicle and his voice had the operational register and something underneath it that was not the operational register and she was losing blood into Fischer’s compression bandage and she was not going to analyse his voice right now.
She said: “Yes.”
He said: “Let Fischer work.”
She let Fischer work.
The pain arrived properly about fifteen minutes later — the adrenaline backing off enough to let it through. It was significant and specific and she breathed through it in the way you breathed through things that were significant and specific. She had been hurt before. Less badly than this. The calibration between current pain and previous pain told her Fischer was right: the joint was intact, the exit was clean, this was going to be two weeks not four.
She could live with two weeks.
Ryan sat across from her for the full forty minutes back to base. He did not say anything. He watched Fischer work and then he watched her and she was aware of his watching in the way she’d been aware of it for three weeks.
She said: “I’m okay.”
He said: “I know.”
She said: “The element secured the extraction point.”
He said: “I know.”
She said: “The second shooter was in a position that wasn’t in the intelligence profile.”
He said: “Yes.”
She said: “I’m going to have something to say about that.”
He said: “So am I.”
She said: “Ryan.”
He said: “Madison.”
She said: “I’m okay.”
He said: “You’re saying that because you know I need to hear it.”
She said: “I’m saying it because it’s true. And because I know you need to hear it.” She paused. “Both.”
He looked at her.
She looked back.
The vehicle hit a rough patch of road and she made a sound that was not voluntary and he crossed the vehicle in one movement and was beside her — not touching, present, the specific quality of someone who was there.
She said: “I’m okay.”
He said: “I know.” He didn’t move. “I know.”
She thought: *this is a problem.*
She thought: *I am in significant pain and I am thinking about how close he is.*
She thought: *Fischer is right here.*
She thought: *everyone is right here.*
She breathed through the pain and let him be close and did not say anything else for the rest of the ride.
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