Dangerous Tides (Drake Sisters 4)

Sam's mouth tightened. "He thinks he's found her."

An image flashed in his mind before Ty could suppress it. Her face. Pale. Midnight black hair. Large green eyes. A mouth to kill for. Ty shook his head. "She has to be intelligent. I can't spend more than a couple of minutes with someone who's an idiot." And that was the problem, would always be the problem. He wanted to talk about things he was enthusiastic about. He wanted to share problems at work with someone. Not even Sam had a clue what he was talking about and Sam actually tolerated him. Most women's eyes just glazed over when he started talking. And God help him if a date started talking about hair and nails and makeup.

"Geez, Ty. What the hell is wrong with you? Who gives a damn if they have brains? You're just doing the wrong things with her," Rory said. "Stop trying to talk and get on with the action. You need help, man."

Another round of laughter went up.

Three tones blasted through the air and the men went instantly silent. The three tones chimed again and they were on their feet. The radio crackled and command central announced an injured climber on the cliffs of Sea Lion Cove just south of Fort Bragg.

Ty and the others grabbed the rescue gear, loading it into the Huey as fast and as systematically as possible.

"Ben, go to the Fort Bragg command center first, but I'll want you to get as close as possible," Brannigan, the helicopter pilot, told the fire apparatus engineer. Ben would drive the heli-tender carrying the fuel for the helicopter as well as extra stokes--the baskets they put the victim in--and everything else needed in emergencies. He would have to take the large truck over the mountainous route to reach Fort Bragg and it would take him at least an hour or more. The helicopter would be there in fourteen minutes.

Ben nodded and ran for his vehicle. The helicopter devoured fuel and they never went anywhere without the heli-tender.

The familiar rush of adrenaline coursed through Ty's body, making him feel alive again after living in his cave of a laboratory for so long. He needed this--the wild slam of his pulse, the adventure, even the camaraderie of the other firefighters. He took his place in the back of the helicopter with the other four firefighters, the captain and pilot up front. His helmet was fitted with a radio and the familiar checklist settled everyone down.

"Commo check," Brannigan said into his mike.

The crew chief answered, followed by each member of the team.

"ICS isolation," Brannigan announced.

In the back, Ty, along with the others, checked their communication box and turned off all radios to isolate themselves from all unnecessary chatter. During the rescue operation it was necessary nothing distracted them.

Sean Fortune, the crew chief, answered. "Isolated."

"Pilot is isolated except for channel twenty. All loose items in cabin."

"Secured," Sean answered.

Ty felt the familiar tightness in his stomach. He loved the danger and he craved the excitement. In a few minutes they would be airborne.

"Doors."

Sean inspected the doors. "Right door open and pinned. Left door is closed and latched."

"Seat belts."

"Fastened," Sean confirmed.

"Rescue supervisor and crew chief safety harnesses."

Sam and Sean checked the harnesses very thoroughly. "Crew chief secured. Rescue supervisor secured."

"Rescuer rigging."

Sam stepped forward to inspect the rigging, giving Sean the thumbs-up. "Secured."

"PFDs." Brannigan continued with the checklist.

Tension rose in the helicopter perceptibly. They were going over water and the pilot and crew chief were required to wear personal floatation devices or PFDs, as the pilot was more apt to be trapped in the helicopter should it go down over water.

"Donned," came the response.

"H.E.E.D.S. and pressure. Pilot's H.E.E.D.S. is on and pressure is three thousand."

The H.E.E.D.S. was the Helicopter Emergency Evacuation Device, which was a mini-scuba tank with a two-stage regulator.

"Crew chief 's H.E.E.D.S. is on and pressure is good."

Sam answered as well. "Rescue supervisor's H.E.E.D.S. is turned on and pressure is good."

"Carabineers."

Ty gripped the edge of the seat. This was it. They were going up and he hadn't done a short haul over water other than in training in two years. He'd kept up the training and was confident he wouldn't let the others down, but the rescuer was determined by rotation and today he had the short straw. He was going out on the rope.

Sean responded to the pilot. "Unlocked." Over water they always flew with the carabineers unlocked as it would take too long to unlock them in the event the helicopter went down.

"Airborne," Brannigan announced calmly to command center as he took the Huey into the air.

The adrenaline poured into Ty's veins, a rush unlike any other. Nothing compared to it, not even the time when he unlocked the key to cellular regeneration and won a Nobel Prize in medicine. Nothing felt like this, soaring into the air inside a helicopter, surrounded by the other men as determined as he was to do whatever needed to be done.

Command responded with latitude and longitude, distance and asmith, the compass bearing. Brannigan loaded the information into the GPS and plotted a route directly to the victim.

Ty listened to the fire captain on scene giving details. There was a short conversation about the victim and whether the on-scene firefighters believed they'd have to do a short-haul rescue. A high-angle cliff rescue had already failed. Ty's heart jumped in his chest. Short-haul rescue was one of the most dangerous of maneuvers and they only performed the rescue if every single member of the team agreed it was necessary to save a life and they could perform it safely. He knew the flight crew would decide for themselves whether or not to perform the rescue, but Ty was already gearing up for it.

They could fly in the rain and even steady winds of up to sixty miles an hour, but not in gusts over twenty. It was raining on the coast, but the wind was steady with no sign of fog. This was exactly why he chose to join every year. It was why he went skydiving and parasailing. He needed something that required his full attention. The adrenaline rush was the only thing he found that cleared his mind of biochemistry and DNA strands and allowed his thoughts to be consumed completely by whatever was at hand.

He felt Sam's gaze and smiled at him in reassurance. With Aunt Ida gone, Sam was the only person he had left that gave a damn. He didn't want his cousin worrying he wasn't up to this. His nerves were already settling down and his hands were steady. Even his heart had resumed a rhythmic beat. Yeah. He was ready. The rigorous training had been well worth it to get him back in shape.

It was surprisingly fast flying over the mountains to the coast and Brannigan brought the helicopter in to hover over the victim to assess the chances of a safe rescue. As always they went over their short-haul analysis list to determine if the rescue was needed and justified the danger to the crew. They had the trained personnel available. Flight conditions were favorable. The load calculations were within limits. The firefighters had tried an alternative rescue plan and it had proved hazardous. The flight crew agreed trying a high-angle cliff rescue might jeopardize the safety of the victim.

Brannigan set the helicopter down after they had studied the victim's position from every angle. As always, they conserved fuel while they discussed the possibilities and came up with a viable plan to retrieve the victim.

Ty could feel his body humming now. Every cell alive, alert. Ready. They asked each member of the rescue team to confirm go or no-go. It was now or never. One dissenting vote and it was off. They would all go home and stay alive. No one was going to dissent, least of all, Ty. He gave the thumbs-up and Sean radioed his affirmation to the pilot. It was a go.

The coastal geography always determined which side of the helicopter the rescue was done out of. The coast ran south-east to northwest so typically they performed the rescues out of the right side, unless they had an unusual s

outhern wind, which, thankfully, there wasn't. Helicopters liked to fly into the wind and they didn't like wind in the left door. The craft wasn't aerodynamically stable with wind through the left door.

Brannigan confirmed the medical helicopter was on its way and instructed them to set down in the clearing above the old mill on the far side away from the cliff. He took to the air again, wanting to do a power check. They needed to be able to hover with enough power margin to execute the rescue safely. They had the charts, but helicopter crews were notoriously skeptical and preferred to check everything for themselves.

"Power check complete, our power is good," Brannigan said.

Colors glittered with amazing vivid brightness. Ty watched the clouds and water sparkle, the rain looking like diamonds. He inhaled the scent of the coast, of the ocean. Beside him, Sam smelled of spicy aftershave and garlic. Doug needed a new deodorant and Sean was wearing cologne. Ty caught the faint whiff of chloroform and shook his head with a smile to clear his mind of his other life once and for all. He concentrated on the pilot's skill as he entered his flight pattern.

"Turning downwind. I'm abeam of the target. I'll let you know when I lose sight."

Ty had a great deal of respect for Brannigan. The man had been flying helicopters for over twenty years and he worked a kind of magic with them. He "felt" them. The closer he got to the cliffs, the more it brought out his skill. The Huey slowed significantly. Ty's gut knotted.

"Speed is back, you're cleared to the skid."

Sean unhooked his secondary securing strap as he replied, "Crew chief moving to skid." He stepped out onto the tank and then onto the skid, securing himself with careful precision. "O.K. crew chief is all secured and on the skid."

The traffic pattern was downwind, leg, base leg and final leg. Brannigan turned into base leg and cleared first rescuer to the skid.

Ty's heart leapt in his chest. He was hooked up to the rescue rope and the crew chief, with hand signals, told Ty to disconnect the seat belt.

"Rescuer one is moving to the skid." There would be a significant weight shift as Ty moved to the right side and the pilot had to compensate. Sam, as rescue supervisor, took a position where he could observe and double-check everything. Ty waited as the two men inspected everything a third time, from the ropes to his safety harness.

"Crew chief is performing a final rigging and safety inspection. Does the rescue supervisor concur?"

Sam's voice was hoarse. "Rescue supervisor concurs."

"Does the pilot concur with the mission?"

"Pilot concurs. Pilot has lost contact."