That day in Quang Tri, the Baker team fought like no one else had seen before.
And it ended well.
It was a terrible thing to say given the fact that Jorgenson was not going to survive the night, but it was the truth.
Thinking about the mess they had found themselves in, a single loss could be considered some kind of miracle and years had passed since Ortega believed in miracles.
Most of the merit belonged to Rambo, who succeeded in saving all of them from the frontal attack.
Ortega had no words to describe what Rambo had succeeded in doing.
God only knew what kind of medal he was going to receive for such an action.
Jorgenson was destined to a painful and slow death – he was leaving a wife and a daughter behind - -, and the happier Ortega was to be alive that day, the more painful was the grieving for Jorgenson's loss, until it became unbearable.
At this point happiness and pain exploded together inside his chest, and his legs failed him.
He fell on his knees, exhausted.
His vision was blurry and his eyes burning.
He was crying and laughing at the same time, and he couldn't breathe. He was suffocating.
He had never felt anything like that before.
It's just a shell-shock.
Ortega tried to breathe in vain.
It's going to pass soon – he thought.
Now it will pass.
Then some liberating sobs finally started shaking his stomach and he started breathing again.
Ortega hoped one day to see Helen and his family again, because his friend Jorgenson, on the contrary, would never see his anymore.
Please God...
Please – he thought.
He then heard the unmistakeable noise of a Huey helicopter over his head.
He then looked up, at the sky and the sun.
It was the other half of the Baker team.
They were back, at least.
It was over for real.