Deliverance (4/?)
Title: Deliverance
Author: coexist_love
Rating: MA
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica 2003
Character: General with Roslin/Adama emphasis
Summary: A normal day on among the fleet is disturbed when an unidentified assailant attempts to assassinate President Roslin.
Disclaimer: Not written for money and if I owned Galactica this would have already happened.
Spoilers: Flight of the Pheonix through Epiphanies
Author’s Note: I thought about this while watching Colonial Day and though my setting is very different to begin with it was given further substance by whyoffry and major_zoidberg at LiveJournal and a special thanks to my lovely betas (I had so many ) but in particular whyoffry campmotha and tina_cat

Chapter 3

Kara and Lee watched as the Old Man and the President conversed together. They couldn’t hear the words they were saying to each other but they knew that it was somewhere along the lines of their usual heart to heart chats.

“They would make a good couple,” Kara commented.

“They would,” Lee said. “Though it isn’t like I have a say in whom my stepmother is.”

Kara smiled, “Are you sure about tha…” Kara was caught mid-sentence as three sharp shots rang through the air. “What the frak?”

“Laura!” they heard the commander exclaim, causing all eyes to turn to their superiors.

“Oh my gods?” Lee gasped as he and Kara moved towards the Commander and the President. As they moved closer they could hear Laura’s wheezing as the spectators failed to act. It seemed as if time had frozen and they were moving in slow motion. They watched as Adama caught her as she fell, laid her down on the cold floor of the flight deck and began trying to assess her injuries.

“Get Dr. Cottle now!” Bill shouted as the crew

Lee and Kara where beside him a couple of minutes later. They took in the sight of the blood soaked suit and the paled expression on her face. Her shaking hand was still clutching her glasses and Lee gently removed them, knowing that such an accessory would get in the medics way, and tucked them in the pocket of his uniform for safe keeping.

“It’s okay Laura,” Bill whispered as her shaking began to intensify. Then he turned to the crowd and yelled, “Grab an old rag or a uniform, something to put pressure on these wounds.”

A couple of other pilots slipped into the scene with some old clothes and began applying pressure to the President’s wounds. Her back arched in response to the pain and she began to cough, startling the onlookers.

Bill’s response was to begin rescue breathing in hopes of making her burden easier. Kara and Lee watched as he breathed for her only for her to resist, “Don’t fight me Laura,” he said between breaths. “Just take it easy.”

Everything seemed to be going smoothly until Laura broke into a coughing fit and started hacking up blood. Kara and Lee helped the Old Man helped turn her onto her side as she continued coughing. One of the specialists produced an old rag and Kara accepted it as she began to gently dab away the blood from Laura’s mouth. Laura struggled to roll herself over further but it ended fruitlessly as she lost strength and gave up.

“Easy. Easy,” Bill whispered to her.

“It’s okay Madame President,” Kara said. “Cottle’s on his way.” She dabbed away the last few drops of blood from the outside of her mouth, shocked at how drastically the crimson blood looked next to her pale skin. She folded the hankerchef and tucked it into her pocket as Bill resumed his breathing.

Lee began to gently stroke the President’s hair in an attempt to sooth the shaking and scared woman lying in front of them. Kara’s hand reached for Laura’s and she held it tightly as they waited for the med team.

“Make a hole,” they heard Cottle’s voice shout.
Lee let out an internal sigh of relief as he gave up his position near the President’s head and led Kara away with him. Letting go of the President’s hand Kara followed him as they continued to watch the action from a distance.

“How did this happen?” Kara asked.

“Someone took a gun and frakking shot her,” Lee patronized.

“I can see that. I was inquiring as to where they were shooting from.”

“I don’t know. When Cottle has a report on the trajectory of the bullets we’ll find out more.”

“You mean to tell me that you can’t think of a single place a sniper could hide? Come on Lee, this isn’t Cloud Nine, this isn’t Colonial Day. These are pilots and deck crew, on a flight deck. How the frakking hell did someone manage to shoot the President? You want to enlighten me on that?” Kara ranted.

It was true that Kara hadn’t really known Laura well at first but since the President recruited her to retrieve the Arrow of Apollo she felt a deep kinship with her. When she’d taken the arrow out of the case and presented it to the President, her eyes said something that Kara had never read in anyone else’s before. She was grateful, she appreciated the gesture. Something that no one else had ever shown her. Not her mother not Zak, not anyone.

Her attention turned back to Cottle and the medical team as they lifted the President’s prone body off the stretcher and whisked her off to sick bay. Kara could feel the tears springing to her eyes. The woman that had in essence taken on the role of her second mother had been shot down and Kara was going to lose her.

“Hey,” Lee said as he noticed her tears. “It’s okay.” He opened up his arms and welcomed her into them. She accepted the invitation and hugged him back. “She’ll be okay. She’s a fighter.”
***
Once they reached Life Station Cottle and his team quickly set to work as they lifted Laura from the gurney onto the operating table. One of the nurses removed the oxygen mask and started to replace it with another that’d been laced with anesthetic. Just before they positioned the mask a weak whisper reached their ears.

“No…” whispered Roslin. Laura’s eyes scanned the immediate area around LifeStation and when she realized that the person she wanted to see wasn’t there she continued. “…Bill?”

“Madame President,” Cottle said sternly. “We don’t have time.”

“Please…” Laura breathed.

Taking a breath Cottle looked over the table. “Commander!” Cottle beckoned. In an instant the Commander was standing next to Laura’s bed. “Please keep it brief. We don’t have that much time.”

Bill nodded in response before turning his attention to Laura. “Madame President,” Bill sighed as he knelt closer to her. He looked her in the eyes and lowered his voice. “Laura…” he began hoping no one had heard him use her first name. “It’s okay; just hang in there a little while longer.”

“…hurts.” Laura stated.

“I know,” Bill said as he remembered how it felt when he was shot. “But you have to hang in there. Everything will be okay, Laura.”

He stood over her in silence for a moment gently stroking her hair as he tried to comfort her the best way that he could. Their interlude only lasted a short time when he saw Cottle approach them out of the corner of his eye. “Laura, I think Cottle needs to start the surgery.

“No,” Laura begged as her bloodstained hand reached out and clasped his arm. Her delicately manicured nails dug into his skin as she looked at him with tears trickling down her cheeks. “Please, don’t go Bill…I am…a…afraid.”

Bill spoke in a soft whisper, “Laura, I don’t want to go, but you know how Cottle when it comes to surgical protocol” Adama’s mind reverted back to the their conversation earlier that day. He couldn’t bare the thought of Laura being alone right now, but he knew that Cottle wouldn’t let him stay in his operating theater. Bill’s freehand reached to her forehead, gently sweeping her hair back as his finger ran over her soft skin. His fingers continued to comb through her hair as he watched her silently.

“If Cottle would let me I would be laying right next to you, I really wish that I could. Just hold on Laura. Don’t give up.” He let his hand cradle her cheek for a moment before he continued. “I won’t leave. I’ll just be behind the curtain,” He gestured to the makeshift partition that would separate Laura from the rest of the sick bay.

Laura’s tight grip on Bill’s arm began to wane and she watched as Bill’s figure faded into the background only to be replaced by Cottle’s silhouette that immerged by her side. Laura fought to keep Bill in her line of sight. She needed to see him. She wanted him to hold her hand as the anesthetic was administered. Panic seized her as she saw him turn his back to her and she began to cry, “Bill! Bill!” He continued walking and didn’t respond. “Bill!”

“Madame President,” Cottle said. “We have to start the surgery now.”

“Where’s…B…Bill?” Laura questioned. “…Need…him…”

“I’m sorry, Madame President,” Cottle said as he gently placed his hands on the side of her head and nodded to the nurse. She quickly attached the oxygen mask with the anesthetic to the President’s nose and mouth.

The edges of her vision began to blur and she felt the darkness of unconsciousness began to sneak up on her. Her eyelids began to droop and she felt herself beginning to give into the anesthetic. Her eyes scanned for Bill once more before she finally closed her eyes and allowed the drug induced slumber to take over her.

“Prepare for an intubation, size eight E.T. tube, and be ready to maintain the anesthetic,” Cottle ordered as he took out his stethoscope and placed it on both sides of her chest. He listened to her breath sounds on her right lung and then the left one. He held the stethoscope there for a minute before pulling it away and hanging it around his neck. “Prep for a pneumothorax.”