A Dangerous Leap (10 page)

He spoke with authority and a gentleness that soon had their patient keening softly and replying to his questions in between contractions. From what Kelly heard, his Spanish was better than “pretty good.” And, unless he threw in some colorful expletives, was way beyond her comprehension.

“They’re going to send her husband up. I think it will help calm her,” Ian said to Kelly and Joe.

While Ian settled the woman into the rear of the helo, Kelly helped Joe deploy the rescue basket. The young man they hoisted up looked as young and frightened as his wife. “
Muchas gracias
,” the man said as he scrambled out of the basket and to his wife’s side. Ian directed him to sit behind her, supporting her back against his chest, his arms encircling her. The young man’s love and concern was obvious in the soft words and gentle, almost reverent, way he touched her.

Kelly’s eyes burned and she took longer than necessary to stow the rescue gear. Now that she’d seen Ian with his nephews, it didn’t take a lot of imagination to see him acting the same way with his wife and baby. Unfortunately, she couldn’t see herself in the receiving role—no matter how much she might wish for it to be so.

Some things just weren’t meant to be.

Kelly blinked rapidly to clear her vision and looked up into Joe’s hard-eyed stare.

* * *

Joe turned away from Kelly and yanked the Jayhawk’s side door closed. His deltoids protested loudly with the effort. Hell, he could thank Kelly for that little bit of humiliation while he was at it.

The mama-to-be let out another scream and Joe winced. He glanced over at what was beginning to look like a delivery room. Damned if Ian wasn’t smiling like this was the coolest thing to be doing at 5,000 feet over the ocean. The next scream made Joe’s stomach bottom out like when Caitlyn hit an air pocket and the helo dropped unexpectedly. He hastily turned away from all the action, afraid of seeing something he barely wanted to acknowledge was happening.

Hell, he’d been working search and rescue missions for damn near ten years. Dismemberment, blood and drowning he could take. But the smell of burnt flesh turned his stomach every time and now, now it looked like babies being born affected him damn near the same way.

To keep his mind off what Ian was doing, he turned his attention to Kelly. And frowned. Instead of Control Bitch, he saw a very efficient but highly affected assistant helping Ian. Kelly’s face had lost all color and she kept her eyes trained on Ian, avoiding any stray looks at their patient.

Joe’s frown deepened. Hell, she’d been in total control mode with that burned sailor. She’d gotten in his face the minute he’d come to and demanded he fight for his life, just as she’d been doing from the minute she’d climbed in the Jayhawk. So what was going on now?

No way it was simply a matter of inexperience. Her initial reaction to Ian’s description of the call-out had been full of undercurrents. Ian seemed to be in on it, or at least sensitive enough to be protecting her from it.

But from what?

He eyed Kelly with speculation. Did Control Bitch have a weakness he could exploit?

* * *

Ian should have been a doctor. Kelly knew she was acting like a nurse, but unlike her, he was in full command of the situation. She concentrated on being the best damned assistant she could be.

“Kel, can you aspirate the baby while I rotate him?”

She sucked in a desperate gasp of air. Dammit, not every baby born died, or had birth defects. And if she didn’t do her job she could endanger this little one’s first chance at life. “A-affirmative,” she managed to say as she plastered herself next to Ian.

“We’ll probably make it to the hospital before the second one is born,” he said cheerfully. “Clear the mouth first, then both nostrils,” he directed.

Kelly was still reeling from his multiple-birth comment. They were delivering twins? Ian carefully maneuvered the tiny head so Kelly could insert the bulb syringe. He alternated between Spanish and English, encouraging the parents and directing Kelly’s movements with equal ease while she hyperventilated.

The baby’s first cry was a little pitiful, but by the time Ian handed the slippery, wriggling mass to Kelly, the infant’s lungs were declaring themselves in fine working order.

“Looks like we have a healthy baby boy,” Ian announced to the crew. He laughed with obvious joy. “Sounds like he’s a little put out with his surroundings. Check his APGAR score while I see to his mother.”

Kelly quickly wiped off the baby’s face and went through the checklist, recording the numbers on her clipboard. To keep him warm she wrapped him in a soft blanket from the delivery kit. Her hands shook the entire time. But the infant appeared to be no worse for his unexpected arrival. His color, movements and reactions were just as they should be and Kelly breathed a sigh of relief—followed by a prayer.
Please don’t send the second one out before we make it to the hospital!

The remaining flight went smoothly, contractions for the second baby just beginning as Caitlyn started her descent. Kelly couldn’t stop staring at the baby. Nestled against its mother’s breast, he was already seeking nourishment.

“Ian, we’ve got another call-out. I’m going to leave you here with the couple and their paperwork,” Caitlyn informed him as she settled the Jayhawk with extra care on the hospital’s landing pad.

Kelly and Joe helped transition the parents and their newborn. Ian waved them off, the infant tucked safely against his chest. Kelly bit down on her lip. He was a natural with babies. But for her, those miniscule bundles evoked her biggest fears.

She could handle any risk to herself, but how did parents learn to live with the thousands of risks that threatened their children every day? What happened when, despite your best effort, you failed that tiny life entrusted to your care?

How could you ever risk your heart on loving again?

Chapter Eight

Rather than take his own, much slower trawler, Karl had procured a fast boat with a captain to intercept the DC-3’s flight to Florida. After a lengthy internal debate, he’d invited Andrew along. His nephew might know everything there was about computers and networks, but he had a lot to learn about the smuggling business out in the field.

“The key to staying off any agency’s radar is to avoid the flash. Flash gets you noticed.” Karl took a long draw on his Corona then squinted at the sky to the south. The DC-3 should be limping into view. He’d already taken out one engine—as confirmed by the change in speed and altitude depicted on his tablet. “Flash gets you a short-term ego rush and a long-term prison stay.”

“Yeah, but it’s a hell of a lot more comfortable. And faster,” Andrew grinned as he shot a pointed look around the plush deck.

“Take my boat,” he said.

“No, I’d rather take this boat,” Andrew said with a laugh.

The sound of an airplane drew both their attentions skyward. “Holy shit, is that our DC-3?” Andrew scrambled up from the bench seat pointing at the low-flying plane.

Karl frowned at the image and then back at the data on his tablet. Cook should be losing more altitude, and hell, he’d changed his flight path. Okay, that made sense. He’d try to make it to shore. Had he declared an emergency yet?

“He’s lost an engine. Shit, Karl, he’s flying on one engine!” Andrew turned to Karl, his eyes wide with shock. Suddenly they narrowed. “You did that. You rigged something so they’d lose an engine. Those kids are on there.” As if sensing that wouldn’t move him, Andrew added, “Why the hell would you risk the cargo doing that?”

“Calm down. Cook’s ditched a plane before, remember? The bales were wrapped for this. Trust me, I have it all worked out.”

“So you know they could all die? That the plane could break up on impact?”

“Why would it break up? That jetliner that went down on the Hudson River didn’t break up. This is a lot smaller and slower than that was. Come on, he’ll be fine.” Karl shouldn’t have been surprised at Andrew’s reaction. But if he was going to join the company full time he needed to understand the business. He needed to toughen up or he’d never last.

Andrew’s face darkened. “You don’t know shit about airplanes.”

“Careful son, this is business. Sometimes people get hurt. But I have faith in Cook’s ability.”

Andrew spun away from him, his hands clenched at his sides. “So what’s the plan? Why do you want him to land on the water?”

Field work wasn’t nice and sterile like Andrew’s computer lab. If he was going to take on a bigger role in the family business, he needed to grow up. “He’ll have to declare an emergency. The plane will go down and the Coast Guard will rescue Cook and the boys. The plane will sink in shallow water. I’ve got divers lined up to transfer the bales to a couple of fishing trawlers after dark.”

Andrew’s shoulders relaxed and his hands unclenched. Karl continued explaining, “The bales were wrapped so they would float to the surface when they are released from the cargo hold. The recovery crew will use fishing nets to corral and haul them on board the boats. The FAA, or whoever investigates the plane crash tomorrow, won’t find anything other than a couple of leaking or ruptured fuel lines. No evidence of contraband. No evidence of sabotage. The fact the boys were on board and that Cook called for rescue all adds up to innocence.”

Shit, while he’d been talking to Andrew, Cook had made it closer to shore. He couldn’t let him make it to land or all his brilliant planning would be wasted. He pulled out the controller from his pocket and tripped the second cutoff switch. Several breathless moments passed before they heard the plane’s engine sputter, cough, then quit.

Anticipating Andrew’s plea, Karl shook his head. “No, we can’t watch them go down. The captain is monitoring all the radio frequencies, so we’ll know what’s going on.” Karl glanced at the GPS readout on his tablet. Dammit, the guy was still in the air. “Come on, let’s go listen to what’s happening.” With any luck, that bastard would already be in the Gulf and the evidence would be settling in shallow water.

* * *

Bored by the drone of the twin-engine Beechcraft C-12 he rode on, Matt only half listened to the DC-3’s intermittent radio transmissions playing over the crew’s headsets. The monotony of the calm ocean below and the painfully slow flight of the drug-filled plane had Matt almost wishing for the idiot to declare an emergency.

A sharp “Mayday, mayday!” brought everyone to attention and Matt swore. Dammit, he knew better than to tempt fate like that.

“Where the hell are we?” he asked, trying to gauge the distance to the shoreline. They’d passed the Florida Keys and were headed up the Gulf side of the state toward Panama City.

The copilot answered, “About fifty miles off shore. Southwest of Tampa.”

Now he knew they were screwed. The Coast Guard would respond and with his luck, Kelly would be on the fricking helo sent out on the rescue mission.

“Any idea what the emergency is? Don’t we have a transmitter on that piece of shit plane?” Matt was losing his cool, but hell, he’d been responsible for his baby sister ever since their father died. He might not see her very often, but he knew every commendation, every base change, and every promotion she’d garnered in her career. He didn’t want her within a thousand miles of those morons, and here they were within fifty miles of her base.

“The Coast Guard has responded. They have a ship heading toward that area, but a Jayhawk has been launched from Clearwater and will be on scene first,” the copilot informed the crew. “We’ll let the air station know what’s on board the plane so they don’t go in cold.”

“Can someone get me a chart of that area? How deep is the water?” Matt asked shifting in his jump seat to look at the flight crew.

“Shallow, but just so you know, we’ve got weather moving in from the west.” The copilot displayed the radar on the aircraft panel and tapped the colored mass on screen.

Matt clamped his mouth shut. He’d be damned if he’d tempt fate again by wondering what else could go wrong.

* * *

Kelly concentrated on cleaning up the “delivery” room in preparation for the upcoming evacuation, stowing her emotions along with the bloodied sheets. It was just another day at the office. Better to leave the old mission behind and concentrate on their new one.

A boat was taking on water and they needed to deliver a dewatering device before it sank or they’d end up rescuing the three men on board. Caitlyn announced over their headsets they had a “minor” complication. A squall line was moving into the area. Great, hopefully the boat was a cruiser and she could deploy the dewatering device directly onto the deck.

Ten minutes later Joe was lowering the portable salvage pump when another boat radioed they could tow the swamped vessel toward shore. They stayed on scene to make sure the pump was doing its job and that the other boat knew how to actually conduct a safe tow. Once the rescuing captain gave the all clear, Caitlyn headed back to the base.

Twenty minutes into the estimated forty-minute return flight, the helicopter hit rough air. Kelly closed her eyes and thought about Ian, wishing he was still on the flight with them. Between the confrontation in the gym, the impromptu baby delivery, and her bitch of a headache, she’d effectively avoided thinking about last night’s declaration of love.

The Jayhawk yawed left to right, then lost several hundred feet of altitude, sending Kelly’s stomach to her knees before bouncing it up to her throat.

“Whoopsie, flight attendants, would you please remove any passengers from the ceiling?”

Caitlyn delivered her quip in an annoyingly calm voice, damn her. Kelly closed her eyes and tried to picture Ian’s naked body. Nope, it didn’t help a bit. Ten minutes later Caitlyn came back with an update.

“Okay, kids, we have an emergency water rescue. A plane’s gone down and the pilot’s reporting two injured crewmen. He only has a few cuts and a possible mild concussion. One of the injured is a minor. Another helo was dispatched but we’re closer.”

Adrenaline kicked into Kelly’s bloodstream and she concentrated on preparing for her upcoming jump. Unless the water had a lot of debris from the downed plane, or the weather was too rough for Caitlyn to hover low, Kelly would do a free-fall entry. Finally she had something she could look forward to and smile about. Despite the disco-dance going on in her stomach, she loved jumping out of helicopters into the ocean.

After a short discussion of the conditions on site, they all agreed on a free-fall jump. While Caitlyn settled over the still intact but submerged plane, Kelly scrambled into her wetsuit and fins. Joe slid the side door open and motioned Kelly into position. An orange life raft drifted in the light variable winds and almost calm seas.

Joe signaled Kelly in his usual rough manner but she ignored it. She had more important things to concentrate on, like treating two of the survivors.

* * *

Joe leaned against the gunner strap, hanging out of the doorway of the hovering helicopter. He split his attention between Kelly in the water and the three men in the inflated life raft.

While everything looked under control, his gut was sending his brain frantic warning signals like mad. Something was wrong but—

Water erupted in a sudden geyser followed by a muffled “wumph” of an explosion. The air shimmered with the blast, sending the Jayhawk into a skittering dance.

“What the hell,” their copilot Ryan’s voice filled Joe’s helmet while he searched frantically for Kelly. Waves spread out from the downed plane and white plastic-wrapped bales popped out of the water like ice cubes.

“Where’s our swimmer?” Caitlyn demanded.

It took a few wild visual sweeps before Joe spotted Kelly bobbing on the surface like a toy in a bathtub. She held her hand up with palm facing forward to signal she was all right. “Swimmer is okay Repeat, swimmer is okay!” Joe shouted. Relief swept through him like an electric current. No matter what his personal feelings were for Kelly, he damn well did not want her killed on his watch. It was his responsibility to see that what went into the water unhurt, came out of the water unhurt. He signaled Kelly, acknowledging her status, and she immediately headed toward the swamped lifeboat.

“I’m calling for backup. Those don’t look like spare airplane parts to me,” Caitlyn said over the headset.

Joe’s gut tensed again. He needed to prepare for potentially hostile survivors on board their helo. Shit, would Kelly know enough to disarm them? Could she do it alone?

* * *

Karl thought his head would explode when he heard the radio chatter about how the plane, and its cargo, had blown up. “How the hell could that have happened?” he demanded to the bridge in general. He spun away from the radios and navigation charts to glare at the captain.

The man moved over to the chart display and pointed to the screen. “The plane went down in that area.” He zoomed in and tapped his finger on a caution note. “My guess is he had the bad luck to drop his plane on one of these.”

Karl leaned over the screen. “Son of a bitch,” he spat out then straightened up.

“What? What does it say?” Andrew stepped to Karl’s side and read aloud, “Unexploded ordinance.”

“Apparently it’s no longer unexploded.”

* * *

It took Kelly a moment to reorient herself to the bright orange life raft drifting in the newly created debris field. What could have caused the explosion? The pilot hadn’t reported any fire, just engine loss. She swam between two bobbing plastic-wrapped bales before realization hit her like a baseball bat to the back of the head. She stopped and spun around, treading water. Holy bat poop.

Drugs. Most likely cocaine. And a lot of it.

She pushed her face mask up to her forehead and squinted back at the life raft. She couldn’t see the survivors from this distance, which meant they couldn’t see her. Drug dealers weren’t known for peaceful surrender. And given the street value of the cargo floating around her, it was a pretty safe assumption these survivors were armed. Did she request a hoist and wait for reinforcements, or—

“Don’t make any sudden moves,” a deep voice said from her left. “I have a gun and won’t hesitate to use it.”

Kelly couldn’t stop her startled spin toward the voice, but she froze when she saw the black gun aimed at her head. “What do you want?” Blood covered half the man’s face and a flap of skin hung over his left ear. He clung to an inflated life vest with his left arm. However, his eyes were clear and the hand holding the Smith & Wesson nine-millimeter M & P was steady despite his injuries.

“I want you to signal that helicopter to pick us up. I’ve seen enough pictures to know how it works.”

Waves were building from the approaching front, the bales rising and falling around them like mini icebergs. Kelly knew he wouldn’t kill her. She was his bargaining chip. Probably. She hoped. “Why would I risk their lives by taking you on board?” No way would she do that.

Without taking his gaze off her, he turned his head slightly. “Danny, bring that raft over here,” he yelled. The smile he gave her held no humor. “I’m willing to bet you’ll do whatever I say.” He nodded his head at the approaching raft. A young male leaned awkwardly over the front, using the emergency folding paddle to drag the boat forward. “Otherwise, I’ll begin shooting those kids.”

Kelly eyed the boy wielding the paddle. He appeared to be fifteen or sixteen; his pale face wore a mutinous expression until he spotted her.

“Help us! My brother’s arm is broken and we can’t swim and you have to help us.” He turned to glare at the pilot. “He wrecked the plane on purpose. He had drugs on it. I heard him trying to call some guy on the radio—”

“Shut up, Danny.” The pilot turned his attention back to Kelly. “Now signal the helicopter to pick us up.” As he spoke, he shifted the gun toward the youth. “Now.”

Kelly glanced at Danny. “You’ll need to hold on tight and protect your brother, the rotor wash will create a strong draft,” she warned him.

In the short time they’d spent talking, the wind and waves had grown in intensity. Normally she would use a rescue basket for pickup, but with the deteriorating weather conditions, if she did a tandem hoist she might be able to get control of the gun. Her priority was to keep the situation from getting any worse than it already was.