"Careful, it's in his fuckin' ass." Beckett said as he helped load Park on to the litter. Beckett followed the litter as far as he could as Park was carried off. His intent was to keep the medical crew covered, giving them as much 360 security as one man could give in such a scenario, but he wasn't much considering he was more concerned with the wellbeing of his SL. But as Park disappeared behind an armored ambulance ramp, Beckett relaxed, clearing his lungs of air slowly.

Beckett shed his blue nitrile gloves quickly as Park was taken away, no longer necessitating his aid. He placed the balled up gloves into a waste compartment on his aid bag, before slinging it again. He hugged the wall again, bringing his rifle which had been hanging at its sling back to his hands. He gripped the pistol grip ever more tight as rounds ate entire chunks out of the wall nearby. His helmet sat slightly couched on his head as another round swallowed a chunk of wall and then the ground. His reaction was simply to cower with even more urgency than before.

As Vogel gave their orders, Beckett let a deep exhale and did a quick brass-check of his rifle. Not a single shot fired yet. It likely wouldn't stay that way. Vogel eventually appeared in front of the corpsman, with his inquiry. “how is Sergeant Park? How was his injury? Will he be back anytime soon?” Beckett adjusted the rifle in his arms, cradling it as he formulated his thoughts, rolling his tongue in his dry mouth.

"He'll be fine, wound looked okay, I cleaned it up best I could, now it's up to the docs. He won't be back today, that's for sure." Beckett clarified.