Chapter 68: The Arrival from Boracay

Two hours later, the Blackhawk helicopter arrived at the Basa Air Base. It landed on the helipad where medics from the base were already waiting.

The door opened and the personnel rushed in to receive them.

"Easy, easy," one of the medics said as they moved straight to Ryan, hands already working to release the restraints holding the stretcher in place. "On my count."

They slid him out in one clean motion, boots hitting the tarmac as they carried him away from the helicopter. Ryan didn’t resist, but his eyes stayed open, tracking the surroundings as they moved.

"Vitals?" another medic asked while walking alongside.

"Stable," the first replied. "Multiple contusions, possible internal bruising, but he’s conscious."

Ryan let out a slow breath.

"I’m fine," he said.

"No, you’re not," the medic answered without looking at him. "You’re moving anyway."

They pushed forward.

Behind them, Daniel and Maria were helped down from the helicopter. They hesitated when their feet touched the ground, looking around at the base, at the soldiers, at the unfamiliar environment.

"It’s okay," one of the personnel said. "Just follow us."

Daniel nodded slowly, one hand still holding onto Maria’s arm as they stepped forward together.

"What is this place..." Maria asked quietly.

"This place is called the Basa Air Base. It’s a former Philippine Military Base but Shadow Private Military Company acquired it when it was abandoned," said the chief crew and added. "You will be processed just like every other survivor and once you are processed you can now live freely within the base. I’ll leave the two of you now as these personnel will take care of you. I have to debrief."

Daniel watched him go for a second, then shifted his attention to the personnel waiting beside them.

"This way," one of them said, gesturing toward the building ahead.

***

Meanwhile, Adrian watched from afar where his parents were being transported to the civilian section of the base. He could have walked up there and show himself, letting them know that he was alive but there was no need to rush. They are in the base now and safe. That is all that matters.

But, as for Ryan, he needed to check on him.

Adrian turned away and immediately went to the medbay.

He found the room.

The door was half open.

Inside, Ryan lay on the bed, shirt partially cut open, bandages already being applied across his side. One of the doctors was checking his ribs while another monitored his vitals.

"Pressure here," the doctor said.

Ryan winced slightly but didn’t complain.

Adrian stepped in.

The doctor glanced up.

"Tell me about this condition," Adrian ordered.

The doctor didn’t stop what he was doing.

He pressed two fingers along Ryan’s lower rib line, watching for reaction.

"Localized pain response along the right costal margin," he said, clinical, focused. "Most likely ribs seven through nine."

Ryan exhaled slowly, jaw tightening.

"No displacement," the doctor continued. "If there was, he wouldn’t be breathing this evenly."

He glanced at the monitor.

"Vitals are stable. Blood pressure within range. Oxygen saturation holding above ninety-six. No signs of respiratory distress."

Another medic handed him a portable imaging tablet.

"Prelim scan," he said.

The doctor pulled it closer, reviewing the image quickly.

"Hairline fracture on the eighth rib," he confirmed. "No flail segment. No pneumothorax visible on initial scan, but we’ll run a follow-up to rule out delayed collapse."

He moved his hand lower, pressing lightly along Ryan’s abdomen.

"Any pain here?"

Ryan shook his head.

"Good," the doctor said. "No guarding, no rigidity. That lowers the risk of internal bleeding, but we’ll still monitor. He took a high-energy impact, so we don’t assume anything."

He stood upright slightly, then continued.

"Multiple soft tissue contusions across the thoracic region and lateral side. Likely from blunt force trauma."

He pointed briefly at Ryan’s side.

"Expect inflammation over the next twenty-four hours. Pain will increase before it stabilizes."

Ryan let out a quiet breath.

"Sounds about right," he muttered.

The doctor ignored the comment and continued.

"No neurological deficits observed. Pupils responsive. Motor function intact. No signs of concussion at this stage, but we’ll monitor for delayed symptoms—headache, disorientation, nausea."

He turned to Adrian.

"In summary, he’s functional but compromised. He can move, but he shouldn’t. Any further stress on the rib fracture could turn it into a full break or cause complications with breathing."

Adrian nodded once.

"How long?"

"Minimum forty-eight hours for stabilization," the doctor said. "Two to three weeks for full recovery, assuming no complications."

"That would mean two to three weeks without getting an assignment," Ryan said, chuckling. "I’m going to die of boredom."

"Well, the doctor said that you need to rest for three weeks. So you will rest," Adrian chuckled back and his expression suddenly shifted gloomy. "Ryan, as for your team."

"Sir, I told you, no need to apologize and bring it up again," Ryan said, cutting him off before he could continue.

Adrian didn’t speak right away.

He stood there for a second, looking at him, weighing the words.

"They were my responsibility," Adrian said anyway, quieter this time. "I sent them there. I kept them there longer than needed."

Ryan shifted slightly on the bed, wincing as the movement pulled at his side.

"And we followed," he replied. "That’s how it works. You don’t get to carry that alone."

Adrian exhaled slowly.

"They trusted me."

"They trusted the mission," Ryan corrected. "Same as I did."

The room stayed quiet for a moment.

The doctor continued working in the background, adjusting the IV line, checking the monitor again, but neither of them paid attention to it.

Ryan looked at Adrian again.

"You got them out," he said. "That’s what matters now."

Adrian’s jaw tightened slightly.

"They shouldn’t have died for that."

Ryan didn’t argue.

He didn’t agree either.

He just held his gaze.

"That’s not something you get to decide after the fact," he said. "We went in knowing what it could cost."

Adrian didn’t respond.

Ryan let out a slow breath.

"Look," he continued, "if you start second-guessing every call after it’s done, you’ll freeze the next time it matters. And that’s when more people die."

Adrian looked away for a second, then back.

"...Understood," he said.

Ryan gave a small nod.

"Good."

Another pause.

Then Ryan glanced toward the ceiling briefly before looking back at him.

"So what now?" he asked. "You going to see them?"

"Later..." Adrian replied.

"Very well, I’ll take my rest here for a while. Good luck and congratulations, you still have your parents."