Rescue Heat (6 page)

“Heya kiddo,” Matt drawled, remembering how fascinated the child had been by his accent. “The doc and I thought we should bring you some rescue stuff. So you’ll have something for show and tell, when you get back to school.”

Matt handed over the rescue chopper to a clearly delighted Harry.

“Thank you,” Harry mumbled, suddenly shy.

Brigid stood at the end of the bed and with the ease of long practice flipped his chart open.

“Molly, everything is looking good here,” she said. “Have the nurses explained that they will set you up a cot in here, for tonight.”

Molly’s smile was tired but grateful. “Everyone has been very kind. First your crew got him here so safely, and then we’ve been very well looked after.”

As Molly and Brigid shared a smile, Matt thought about what a different job rescue was turning out to be. Today, the primary goal of four adults, as well as the base’s support staff, was the welfare of this young child. Allowing himself an emotional investment was a new luxury for Matt.

Harry’s voice brought him out of his daze.

“You’re not the pilot, are you?” he asked, his childish disappointment palpable.

“No, I’m not.” Matt suddenly had the unfamiliar urge to impress the boy. “But if we couldn’t land at your farm, I would have been the one lowered down to pick you up.”

Suddenly self-conscious, Matt looked up the see the knowing smiles exchanged between Brigid and Molly.

His third day of rescue and already the ground was shifting slightly under his feet.

Harry had gained enough confidence to keep pestering Matt with questions. “Does it hurt when they dangle you from a helicopter? Do they let you drive the helicopter?”

After Matt had to answer ‘No’ three times, to the increasingly disappointed boy, he was grateful of the distraction that Brigid handing over the bear provided. Selfishly, he was even strangely proud that the helicopter seemed to be the preferred toy.

After noting her amused expression at his attempt to impress Harry, he was surprised to hear Brigid say, “Matt can’t drive the helicopter because all his time needs to be spent getting the patient, like you, to the hospital.”

Seeing the boy look at him with hero worship in his eyes was a truly special experience for Matt. He’d spent too many years working in places where the civilian population had seen him as an enemy. It was nice to have a child’s unequivocal trust.

Before they turned to leave, Brigid made a gesture that surprised Matt. She walked over and ducked her head to drop a kiss on Harry’s head. The gesture was so natural and spontaneous it must have come from long practice.

“Harry, next time you see a snake, you’ll have to talk your foot out of fighting with it,” Brigid smiled.

Looking at the doctor standing beside the child’s bed, Matt was struck anew by how lovely Brigid was. Dressed in jeans and a soft blue t-shirt, she looked younger and more vulnerable than in uniform. Dark hair secured at the base of her long neck highlighted the symmetry of her delicate features.

His sudden appreciation of the woman was shared by a grateful Molly. She was full of thanks as they said goodbye. An embarrassed Matt even got a hug.

Brigid pointed to the entrance of the ER as they walked down the corridor together.

“Are you sure you’re not here to pay a visit to Sarah?”

The fact she had noticed the young nurse’s interest in him brought him a certain amount of satisfaction but he didn’t want Brigid to think him a dirty old man.

“I think I’ll leave Sarah to play with the kids her own age.”

For a moment, Brigid looked at him in disbelief and then she laughed. The sound was clear and joyous. They walked out into the hospital car park and Matt found himself not wanting to end the contact, especially as Brigid seemed the most relaxed he had ever seen her.

“Do you always come and check on your kiddie patients?” he asked.

“More often than not,” she said with a rueful smile. “After we have a seriously ill child on board, Chris and Dave want to rush home and hug their own kids and I feel compelled to check on the child myself.”

She laughed again, “Although, occasionally there are children and their parents who you’re more than happy to wave goodbye to.”

Brigid was jiggling her keys in her hand and Matt thought she looked like she was about to leave.

However, curiosity seemed to get the better of her and she asked, “Did you get close to your patients in the army?”

“It was easier not to. My role was in combat zones. I was there to recover and stabilise the patients before we sent them to the central hospital. In most cases, the time spent with the patient in the field was minimal and if you end up spending long enough with a patient to create a connection, it was usually bad news for them.”

As they spoke, they had been walking slowly across the car park. Coming up on her silver station wagon, she leant against the door rather than immediately opening it.

“How many years did you work in combat zones?” she asked.

“I had over eight years active service in the front line,” he said, hearing the finality in his voice.

Suddenly he wanted to cut and run. He did not want to talk about his painful memories and the bone-deep camaraderie he had felt with his patients. A camaraderie born out of danger and of being witness to war’s carnage.

Matt actually took one physical step backwards and then another.

“See you on shift tomorrow,” he said, putting his hand up in a wave.

Brigid buckled herself into the helicopter jump seat as the rotors pumped loudly overhead. Today, the call had them out on a search and (hopefully) rescue. Their local Marine Rescue Tower had received a distress call from two men out on a fishing trip whose boat was dangerously listing in the sea.

Dave’s voice came over the intercom, “Eyes sharp guys, we’re now in the search grid.”

“Did we get an update on the rescue equipment the men had on-board?” Matt asked. His six-foot-two frame was tightly encased in a thick wetsuit. If they came across the survivors, he was the one going in the water to rescue them.

“The good news is they had lifejackets on board,” Dave replied. “Unfortunately we have confirmed that they didn’t have an EPIRB, so we only have the longitude and latitude they were at when the radio gave out.”

“The coast guard has given us a potential drift area 25km long and 10km wide.”

Brigid scanned the water using the binoculars strapped around her neck. Until they found any survivors, her duties were the ordinary ones of any search team.

Matt sat more precariously, braced against the helicopter’s open door. Without any glare from the windows, theoretically Matt would have the best chance of spotting any people or wreckage in the ocean.

Searching the water, grid section by grid section, tended to a laborious process, no matter the urgency of finding the survivors.

“How long would they have been in the water by now?” asked Brigid.

“Six hours if the boat was sinking as fast as they thought it was.”

Brigid reminded them what they all knew too well. “Even in tropical water they’ll be hypothermic by now.”

Brigid’s words had all the crew intently refocused on the water. Dave’s coordinate reports back to base were the only sounds to break the silence but it was only so long that four people could sit without conversation.

“So, Matt, any girlfriends back home that we need to know about?” Chris asked.

Brigid fixed her eyes on the water, pretending only a passing interest in Matt’s answer.

“Single.” Matt confirmed.

Brigid cursed her instinctive feeling of satisfaction at his single status. Why couldn’t he be like Todd? Married, boring, friendly and easy to ignore.

“So, no local girls showing you the sights?” Chris enquired.

Rather than being deterred by Matt’s one-word answer, his reluctance had obviously spurred Chris on.

“Sadly, no,” Matt said and this time there was no mistaking the amusement in his voice. For Brigid, remembering how quickly Sarah had made her move, it was clear that for Matt finding female companionship was not hard.

A quick glance over at his attractive, fit and rangy body and strong features was a reminder of why this was so.

Brigid wondered about the feeding frenzy that would happen when his status as a wealthy man became known. Matt himself didn’t seem to be seeking out that label and Brigid wasn’t going to out him. As a doctor, she believed that people had a right to privacy in all areas of their life. However, as she had told him, Cairns was essentially a big small town and secrets didn’t remain so for long.

A shift in wind direction suddenly halted the men’s conversation. The new conditions, creating white tops on waves, required greater concentration, even as the chopper flew at a lower altitude.

“Forty-five minutes before we have to go back to refuel,” Dave reminded the crew.

Awareness of time ticking by was something that all rescue personnel were constantly mindful of during a search. The rule was simple: the longer the search, the potentially worse the outcome.

“I’ve got something.” Matt’s voice broke the focused silence. “Yellow spotted 40 degrees northwest.”

Brigid crossed to Matt’s side and trained her binoculars to the object described in his instructions. As the helicopter changed course, she could see what he had spotted more clearly. It looked like they had two men in the water, floating in the current.

Chris called in their exact location and guided Dave in over the men. Now Matt would have to go into the water via the wire. Brigid helped Matt fit the final pieces to the harness.

Looking out the open chopper door, Brigid could see the frantic movements of the men as they waved to the helicopter. The desperation in their faces could be seen even five metres above.

“Rescue Crewmember One ready,” Matt said, hooking himself to the winch.

Now for the crucial minutes. Dave had to hold the chopper in hover mode, while Matt went down the wire to pick up the first of the men. It was a manoeuvre that could look effortless, but everyone inside the cabin today knew the multitude of things that could go wrong. A helicopter like the AW139 could only be held in the hover position for fifteen minutes without risking burn out. So Matt had to pull two grown men out of the water fast.

“Okay Chris, let him down at a steady rate,” Brigid said, now focused on spotting Matt, while he was on the wire. “Just one metre to go.”

Brigid held her breath as Matt got to within an arm’s reach of the men. You could never be sure of how people in rescue situations were going to react. In panic, they had known survivors to kick, punch and even pull their rescuers under-water. In those cases, they had been trained to abort the mission. In the worst-case scenario, Chris was even empowered to cut the wire. Luckily, as Matt got closer, Brigid could see the men were staying reasonably calm, living up to their reputation as experienced fishermen.

“He’s in the water.”

Brigid watched as Matt efficiently slipped a harness under the arms of the nearest man.

“Bring them up.”

With her first patient on the line with Matt, Brigid gloved up. Matt and her patient loomed large in the chopper door. Quickly, Brigid and Matt manhandled him into the far helicopter seat and pulled his arms out of the harness.

Now, Matt returned back down the wire to retrieve their second patient. He swung away from the chopper while Brigid wrapped her patient in a silver space blanket.

She gave him a headset so they could communicate. He was pale, shivering and in shock, with bruises and contusions over his face, hands and bare feet. His voice when he spoke was shaky and hoarse.

“Kevin Bradford,” he replied slowly in answer to a question about his name.

“Okay Kevin, your family are going to be very glad to see you,” Brigid said. “Do you have any injuries you want to tell me about?”

“Got too close to the side of the boat when it was cracking up. That scratched me up some,” Kevin said.

Brigid quickly ran her eye over Kevin’s body. Cold and shock could sometimes hide injuries but this man seemed to be relatively unscathed.

Before she could ask any further questions, she had to assist Matt with getting the second patient into the chopper. The second man looked to be slightly the worse for wear, as he entered the chopper with a grimace of pain writ across his face.

“Okay Dave, we’re a go.” With her words, the helicopter turned towards Cairns.

“This is Sam. I think his shoulder is dislocated. Can you take a look?” Matt asked.

Brigid went over to the middle-aged man and crouched in front of him. “Hi Sam. My name is Brigid and I’m a doctor. Can you tell me what happened to your arm?”

As Brigid gently probed Sam’s shoulder, he recounted what had happened to them.

“Bloody boat sunk on us. We stayed on it too long and almost went down with it. Wrenched my shoulder and we both got a bit cut up.”

“Was there anyone on the boat with you?” Matt’s question cut over the intercom.

There had been no mention of a third person on the initial radio call, but only lazy rescuers made assumptions.

“No-one but me and Kevin. Thank god there wasn’t anyone else; we only had two lifejackets on-board.”

“I think you have a dislocated shoulder there. We’ll wait until you get to hospital to put it back in, but the good news is you can have some pain relief now.”

Brigid administered the green whistle and watched as it almost immediately removed the pain lines from Sam’s face.

“Matt, how’s Kevin doing over there?”

While Brigid had been treating Sam, Matt had been quietly and confidently assessing Kevin.

“He’s dehydrated with mild hypothermia but all his injuries look superficial,” said Matt.

“Keep the blanket on him and keep giving him water. We can leave the drip and everything else to the hospital.”

With the hospital just fifteen minutes away, the men’s treatment could wait. There they would be looked after in circumstances that were far more comfortable.

She got on the intercom to the pilot, “You can call the ambulance to meet us at the base. These guys are looking remarkably intact.”