By midmorning, the hospital at Basa Air Base had become one of the busiest buildings inside the compound.
The battle was over, but the cost of surviving it had filled every ward, every treatment room, and every temporary recovery area the medical staff could prepare. Ambulances and armored medical vehicles kept arriving from the outer defensive lines, their tires still coated in mud and ash from the fields around San Fernando. Nurses moved between stretchers with practiced speed while doctors shouted instructions over the low hum of generators, monitors, and ventilation systems.
Adrian arrived just as another convoy stopped outside the emergency entrance.
He stepped out of the vehicle with Ryan beside him, both men still wearing the same uniforms from the command center. Neither had slept. Their faces showed it clearly, but compared to the soldiers being carried inside, exhaustion felt like a small thing.
