Bagman: Reporter Down

I closed the hatch, set the VTOL on hover and unbuckled my harness. We were far enough above the scene that I didn’t have to worry about small-arms fire.

Red was in the small compartment behind the cockpit. A small craft, there was room for two, maybe three people back there, but with Red sprawled over the floor, cursing and kicking, there wasn’t room enough for me.

“Red, calm down! Where are you hit?”

She sobered slowly, but came around, raised teary eyes. “My foot. They shot my fucking foot. 8 years I’ve been doing this. Never got shot, Kent. Fuck, it hurts!”

Boss was on the radio behind me, spitting nothing but four-letter words, so I slapped the kill-switch. I’d had some medical training. I fished our first-aid kit out and plunged a needle into a bottle of morphine.

“You’re a tough one, Red, making that jump with your foot like that.” I’d given her the shot, cut off her boot and sock. “You need a hospital,” I said after I saw the ruin of her foot. I got to work.

She nodded dreamily and smiled at me.

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