Brock loved any sort of test. He always had.

Ever since he was a child, he found personal validation in being really good at something. There was a flush of pride in being the best. Pride not just in the glory or praise from others, but from the effort. Not just being naturally gifted, but being willing to push yourself harder than anyone else. To want it more, to constantly test your limits. To know that you had earned it by determination, sheer force of will, sacrifice, and having outworked everyone else.

His personal drive and work ethic had served him well. He'd been an accomplished athlete in college and an excellent student. Never one to sit back and let the rest catch up, he was always looking for the next challenge. This part of his personality. This stubborn intensity and unyielding determination, mixed with a strong sense of patriotism and personal sacrifice, made him a perfect fit for the military, specifically special forces.

Brock knew that his quiet nature and lack of bravado lead most people to underestimate him, or even overlook him. While that could have undermined his self-esteem, it wasn't something he dwelled on. He knew what he was capable of and he never doubted it. Brock's self-confidence could have been interpreted as arrogance. But, his easy calm, patience and affable personality, mixed with his selflessness, tempered any semblance of arrogance.

But this. This thing that was happening right now was testing everything about him. Everything that he thought he was good at. And many things he'd never given much thought to. He knew what was happening was an absolute doomsday scenario. Somehow, it was now up to him to save Trent's life. Not with gunfire, firepower or daring feats of physical endurance. Rather, he had to be the medic that Trent desperately needed.

Trent had done his best to walk him through it. But, with his throat constricting, difficulty breathing, and decreasing consciousness before he was fully out, there hadn't been enough time for them to spend more than maybe 10 minutes, 15 tops, discussing what needed to be done. Maybe that was for the best?

If there was more time to dwell on what Brock was about to do – what Trent absolutely needed him to do – Brock might have spent that time focusing too much on what could go wrong. Instead, he just needed to focus on the instructions he had been given. Visualize and execute.

Both men knew that there was no other option. Neither of them had any idea what had happened to the rest of Bravo, or whether help was on the way. It was absolutely certain that Trent didn't have the luxury of time to wait. It needed to be done.

Trent had understood immediately what was happening to him. He knew he didn't have much time to give Brock the information he'd need to carry it out. He had to use the precious amount of time they had before he lost consciousness and stopped breathing. He had to transfer his medical knowledge, quickly and calmly to Brock so that his brother could save his life.

Brock had done what he could wash off his hands, careful to use only enough to get rid of the grime, but mindful of saving enough since they'd probably need it later. He had quickly prepped the area and the tools he was using, but didn't have much to help with sterilizing them any more than they already were.

Hopefully, help was on the way and they'd both be out of here before any infection had a chance to set it. If not, he had some antibiotics that he'd administer to Trent once it was done and while they waited for extract.

Brock had been repeating the same mantra a few times now, his voice growing in confidence with each repetition.

"Neck fully extended. Follow the line Trent helped him mark out. Half inch horizontal incision. Be sure the incision is deep enough to extend though the membrane. Not too far. Just enough to access the airway. Dissect the opening. Insert the straw 2 inches into the trachea. Give Two breaths into the tube." And Jesus, if after all that, if Trent wasn't breathing, he'd need to start CPR.

Don't think about what could go wrong. Only focus on what needs to be done. Visualize and execute.

Brock took 60 seconds to slow his breathing, lower his heart rate and steady his hands. He would have preferred another minute or so to fully steady himself before picking up the scalpel. As if that extra 60 seconds would somehow turn into 4 years of medical school. But, he couldn't wait, Trent's slow and labored breathing had stopped. He needed to act now.

With the scalpel in his head, he made the incision. "Please, don't let me kill him".