Fareeha had to drop the communicator as a whistling filled the sky. Diving to the nearest covering, Fareeha hissed as she landed hard on her wounded shoulder. Looking at where she stood moments before, a crater imploded deep into the Earth. Being hit by a Heavy's ordinance wasn't something Fareeha ever wanted to feel. Atomized under whatever the Omnics packed into their shells. She never saw a body after inspecting a direct hit. 

Getting to her feet, the adrenaline could only dull the pain for so long. To her dismay, the rocket launcher felt too heavy for one of her arms to carry let alone absorb the kick back from the Ra Seeker. Maybe it was good that Angela was coming here. Maybe it wasn't. When she made the decision to not join Overwatch, a current shadow of its former self, Fareeha accepted that fact that she'd die fighting against the Omnics. She regretted all but one thing. Not knowing what happened to her mother. No body. Nothing. 

Slinging the Ra Seeker over her shoulder, Fareeha pulled out a service pistol that she'd never thought she'd use. Chambering a round, she walked back to the front line. The calm overtook her as she sighted the first Omnic and watched bullets knick away at its metal hull.

"Captain! Bird inbound. Swiss markings," said a jumper over the communications unit. 

Seeing Angela descend from the sky, Fareeha toggled her comm unit. "Covering fire and hold! Our wounded are almost away. The way back is clear!" Walking towards an inner wall, Fareeha watched as Angela landed gracefully. If it were any other time, Fareeha would've been glad to see Angela. Growing up with the others of Overwatch, she saw Angela a lot on base. With the weariness of constant fighting without relieve, however, she had no energy to give such pleasantries. "We're stretched. My medics are dropping quick. Since you're here, I need your help. I have wounded. A lot. I was hoping you could do something?" 

She gestured to a nearby building. "Come on," she said as she ignored any further looking into her own wound. Leading the way to the building, she nodded to Dr. Marsala. The evacuation was moving nicely. "Marsala, Dr. Ziegler. Coordinate with her."

Marsala looked at the renown doctor before looking at Fareeha's shoulder. "No one's look at that? It'll get infected. Maybe amputation," he said. "Wouldn't you agree Dr. Ziegler? You want to be dead weight, Captain?"

Fareeha narrowed her eyes. "Careful doctor."

"An expert opinion. No offense intended," he said. "Dr. Ziegler, could you please? I need to get back to the evacuation. Many of the 5th won't be making the rendezvous." Giving Fareeha another look, he moved on. Barking orders at the medics and whatever hands he'd conscripted to help.