Oath of Honor

by Radclyffe

  so right. So damn right.

  Beside her, Gary cleared his throat. She shot him a look. He was

  staring at her.

  “What?”

  “You looked…mesmerized. Where’d you go?”

  “Nowhere.” Evyn was glad her face was already red from the

  wind and the water, because heat rose through her. “Just watching the

  exercise.”

  “Ha ha. Watching a lot more than that.”

  “Shut up, Brown.”

  He laughed. “She’s really pretty hot.”

  “Will you shut up,” Evyn said through her teeth. Gary had a wife

  and three kids and was one of the few people on the detail who never

  fooled around, married or not. She didn’t pass judgment on those who

  did. When you spent days on end, week after week, with the same

  people in the tensest situations imaginable, doing things you couldn’t

  tell your friends and family, letting off steam together was only natural.

  Sometimes letting off steam took the shape of sweaty groping in a hotel

  room in some city on the way to or from the next point on a map.

  “Just saying,” Gary said.

  “Well, don’t.”

  The beat of helicopter rotors cut through the howling wind, and a

  Coast Guard medevac chopper appeared overhead.

  “Transport’s here,” she called.

  “One minute!” Wes pulled a neck immobilizer from her bag and

  eased it behind the figure’s neck.

  Evyn switched radio channels and advised the helicopter to lower

  their Stokes basket. The helo rocked above them in the wind, and the

  metal-mesh toboggan swung back and forth like a pendulum on its

  cables as it descended from the open belly. She and Gary went forward

  to guide the basket down.

  “How does it look?” she asked Wes.

  “First stage hypothermia, potential head and neck injury from

  impact on the water, and possible aspiration. His neck is stable, we’ve

  got the thermal blankets on, and I’ve started antibiotics. He needs a

  CAT scan upon arrival.”

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  “Can we transfer?”

  Wash kicked up from the rotors and sprayed Wes’s back and face.

  She blinked the water away. “He’s ready.”

  Evyn signaled the chopper to continue lowering the Stokes. A

  sharp gust of wind nearly knocked her off her feet. The chopper dipped

  and rose sharply, canting in the shifting air currents. A crack like a rifle

  shot cut through the air and the rear cable securing the basket snapped.

  The metal toboggan came crashing down. Evyn lunged for the flailing

  cable end as Wes crouched over the mannequin, shielding the figure

  from the careening basket. The end of the madly swinging metal carrier

  sliced the air, struck Wes in the shoulder, and knocked her out of the

  boat.For one millisecond Evyn was completely paralyzed. The deck

  where Wes had knelt was empty. The surface of the sea was nothing but

  angry water. Wes was gone.

  Evyn jumped up on the bulwark and dove over the side.

  • 144 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  chapter eighteen

  The world spun crazily upside down. The light flickered rapidly

  and finally blinked out and all that was left was cold. Only

  pain and blood-stopping cold. Unseen hands dragged Wes deeper

  beneath the icy mantle, into a blackness that extinguished the last

  glimmer of illumination. Instinctively, she held her breath, struggling

  to orient herself in the surreal landscape of shock and panic. Her left

  arm wouldn’t obey her. She kicked and flailed but her water-filled boots

  and sodden jeans weighed her down. Up and down held no meaning—

  she revolved in a world without substance. Her animal brain fled from

  the freezing darkness, away from the primeval terror engulfing her.

  Primitive reflexes kicked in, and she fought to return to the last place

  she’d felt light and heat. The surface.

  She struggled upward, her chest burning, the pain so huge she

  hungered to suck in air to soothe the flames. She clamped her teeth

  shut, finally recognizing the water that entombed her, water that would

  provide no air, only sudden and swift death. With only her right arm

  and her clumsy legs to power her, she flailed and kicked and writhed

  her way toward the shimmer of light penetrating the gloom. Despair

  squeezed her throat closed.

  She wasn’t going to make it. Too far, too cold, too much pain.

  Blood thundered in her ears, her heart crashed wildly against the

  crushing pressure in her chest. Another second and instinct would

  overrule reason. She had to breathe. Breathe and end the torture.

  Fury washed through her. She would not surrender. Her mind

  hazed, confusion dulled her senses. The cold bored deep inside her and

  bloomed into heat, suffusing her with blissful warmth. Another few

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  RADCLY fFE

  seconds and the fear began to abate. She stopped thrashing. The vise

  around her chest tightened, and her battle slowed. Her arms and legs

  were so heavy. The sea—warmer now—enclosed her, streaming past

  her face like gentle fingers caressing her, welcoming her. She was so

  close to falling asleep, the cold forgotten.

  A frigid blast of air hit her in the face and someone yelled into her

  ear, “Breathe, damn it. Breathe!”

  Wes jerked and sucked in a lungful of air. She coughed and life

  returned to her arms and legs. Pins and needles shot into her fingers and

  toes. A knife blade of slicing pain pierced her chest. The cold returned

  with a vengeance. Enemies grasped at her, threatening to pull her back

  into the dark. She thrashed.

  “Wes, it’s Evyn! Don’t fight me.”

  The darkness disappeared, gray sky flashed overhead. An arm

  gripped her chest—Evyn. Evyn was towing her. Evyn was not the

  enemy. Wes tried to kick her legs, but she couldn’t move.

  “Almost there,” Evyn panted, her breath sounding harsh and

  labored. “Wes, keep breathing.”

  Wes sucked in another breath, coughed again. Her throat burned.

  “Evyn, what—”

  “It’s okay, we’re almost to the boat.” Evyn’s voice was strained,

  tremulous.

  The water was so cold. The shore was a distant blur. A whirlpool

  pulled at her legs. Riptide. Evyn’s grip on her slipped, and Evyn

  cursed.

  “You’ve got to hold on to me,” Evyn shouted. “The current is

  against us.”

  “Don’t let me pull you down.” Wes tried to force her lethargic

  limbs to move. “I can swim.”

  “Shut up, Wes,” Evyn grunted. “I’m not letting you go.”

  Wes was too tired, too cold, and in too much pain to argue. Water

  splashed into her mouth, and she needed all her strength to keep her

  head above the roiling waves. She had to trust Evyn. She did trust her.

  A shadow loomed overhead. The boat.

  “Let me lift you,” Evyn ordered. “Don’t fight me.”

  Icy metal scraped Wes’s back as she was rolled into a narrow litter

  and strapped down. She spun in midair and the litter rappelled upward,

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  Oath Of hOnOr

 
; jerking with each ratchet of the winch. Hands grabbed the basket and

  guided it onto the deck, voices tumbled over one another—a jumble of

  orders and phrases she thought she recognized but couldn’t make sense

  of. “Evyn?”

  “She’s right here.” A man’s voice. Then, “Daniels, get below.

  You’re blue.”

  Someone lifted Wes’s left arm, and she groaned.

  “Sorry.” A woman’s voice. She knew her. Who?

  Wes fought to come back to herself. She opened her eyes, focused

  on the faces looking down at her. She knew them. Had to connect the

  names floating in her hazy mind.

  “Do you know where you are?” the blonde asked. Blonde—hazel

  eyes. Worried eyes. Cord.

  “I’m okay,” Wes said, her voice sounding like a croak. “On board

  the ship. I’m okay.”

  “You’re okay,” Gary echoed, his face oddly white against the flat

  gray sky.

  “Let me up.” Wes struggled against the strap across her chest.

  “Just take it easy.” Evyn appeared next to Gary. “You took a swim,

  Doc. Let us check you out.”

  Above Evyn’s left shoulder the helicopter slid into view, its belly

  open, the rescue basket angled in the portal. The basket—the basket

  swinging toward her. Toward her and the patient, her priority. “I

  remember going in. How’s the patient?”

  Evyn smiled crookedly. “Which one?”

  “The president. The only one.”

  “He’s fine.” Evyn’s mouth twisted and a shadow passed over her

  face—storm clouds in a summer sky. “How are you?”

  “Left shoulder’s getting a workout, but it’s just banged up some.

  Swallowed a little water, feels like. I’m okay.”

  The radio crackled. Cord said, “Lower the Stokes.”

  Wes twisted her head, felt a restraint on her neck. “You can take

  this collar off. I’m fine.”

  “You are,” Evyn said, her bloodless lips tinged with blue. “But

  we’re going to transport you to the hospital—check you out.”

  “No way,” Wes said, her voice stronger already. “I never lost

  consciousness. There’s nothing they’re going to find in the ER that I

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  can’t tell you right now—my shoulder is contused and I’m cold. Get me

  warm and I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re not in charge here, Dr. Masters,” Evyn said sharply. She

  shivered violently and her eyes glazed before she blinked them back

  into focus.

  “I’m the senior medical officer,” Wes said. “And you’re verging

  on hypothermia. Gary—she needs to get out of that wetsuit and get

  warmed up.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Gary said. “Evyn, you heard the captain. Get below

  and strip down. The extra thermals are in the bulkhead.”

  “Don’t pull rank on me, Wes,” Evyn said.

  With her good hand, Wes unsnapped the buckle holding the band

  across her chest and pushed up until she was sitting in the litter. “I

  wouldn’t need to if you listened to reason.” Her head swirled, but she

  fought down a wave of nausea. Her shoulder ached, but sensation had

  returned to her fingers and her arm was moving again. Stiff and sore,

  but mobile. “I’ve had worse playing rugby.”

  “That’s not in your personnel file.”

  Wes grinned. “Not everything is in there, don’t you know that?”

  Cord’s voice cut through the rush of wind. “Let’s finish this pissing

  contest onshore. Can I release the chopper?”

  “Yes,” Wes said, “as soon as the president is transferred up.”

  “You’re going too,” Evyn said.

  “If I needed to go—which I don’t—we’d wait for another chopper.

  POTUS is the priority. We do this by the book.”

  “The exercise is over.”

  “I’m not grandstanding, Evyn,” Wes said quietly, holding Evyn’s

  gaze, letting Evyn see for herself she was okay and thinking rationally.

  “I wouldn’t risk it if I thought there was a bigger problem, but I want to

  end this mission on my feet.”

  The glacial blue of Evyn’s eyes softened and she nodded to Cord.

  “Send up the president’s litter.” She crouched by Wes, her face all Wes

  could see. “But when we get back to land, I want to check you over

  myself.”

  “Deal.” Wes pulled the thermal blanket they’d placed over her

  more tightly around her shoulders. “Go get out of that suit.”

  Evyn grinned weakly. “No argument.”

  • 148 •

  Oath Of hOnOr

  Wes waited until Evyn disappeared down the hatch before saying

  to Gary, “Make sure she gets something hot into her. She expended a

  lot of energy out there.”

  Gary handed her a steaming thermos. “Tea. I’ll get hers next.”

  “Thanks.” Wes sipped the blessedly hot liquid and closed her eyes.

  The mission had very nearly been derailed by the accident, and when

  they wrote up the report, they’d have to explain exactly how that had

  happened—and who, if anyone, was responsible.

  v

  “Showers are down the hall on the right,” Cord said as the group

  hurried into the rescue station. She waved Jeff and Gary on and turned

  to Evyn and Wes. “The first order of business is for the two of you to

  get warmed up.”

  “Go ahead,” Evyn said to Wes. “You feel steady enough?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. Some heat and dry clothes and I’ll be good to go.

  You need to hit the showers too, Agent Daniels.”

  “Gary went to get our gear from the car—I’ll get it and be there

  in a second.”

  “All right. Thanks.” Wes left quickly and Evyn squelched the urge

  to follow immediately.

  The distance in Wes’s voice was nearly as chilling as the water

  had been. Evyn couldn’t tell if Wes’s aloof reserve hid anger, pain,

  or criticism, but the wintery expression in Wes’s eyes left her feeling

  abandoned. The stab of loneliness was as frightening as it was

  unexpected.

  “You okay?” Cord said softly.

  “What?” Evyn focused on Cord, read her concern. “Yeah. You

  weren’t kidding about riptides. Freaking strong, and freaking cold.”

  “The weather’s changing fast. We’re in for a blow. Maritime

  reports say we’re looking at snow up and down the coast.”

  “The water sure felt like it dropped twenty degrees.”

  “In some parts of the current, it probably had—cold water pulled

  up to the surface by changes in the wind and air pressure.” Cord

  grimaced. “I’m really sorry I didn’t call off the exercise earlier.”

  “Couldn’t be anticipated—or helped,” Evyn said, listening for

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  RADCLY fFE

  the distant sound of the shower running. She really wanted to go back

  and check on Wes. She wasn’t convinced Wes was as steady as she

  claimed. When she’d finally located her, the powerful current had been

  pulling Wes hard and fast out to sea. Wes had been spinning, sinking,

  and she hadn’t been struggling. For a sickening, heart-stopping second,

  she’d thought she was too late. She couldn’t remember ever being so

  terrif
ied.

  “You want me to get your gear?” Cord asked. “You’re

  shivering.”

  “No.” Evyn ignored the chill spreading along her bones. “As soon

  as I check with Gary, I’ll shower.”

  Cord nodded. “I’ll be in my office.”

  “Thanks, Cord.” Evyn turned away, pretending she hadn’t seen

  the questions, or the concern, in Cord’s eyes. They’d gotten to be

  friends over the years since she’d first met Cord during her water-

  rescue certification. Back then, there’d been a tiny spark of interest, but

  time and distance had made friendship more feasible, and she was glad

  to have avoided the awkwardness that would have cropped up when

  they had to work together. Besides, a friendship with no complications

  was worth a lot more than a hot and heavy—and short-lived—affair.

  That’s exactly what she should be looking for with Wes—a sound

  professional friendship, but she couldn’t seem to get her head around

  that. When she’d seen Wes disappear into the water, the only thing

  she’d thought about was getting her to safety. She hadn’t thought

  about the mission or protocol or the fact that they were in the middle

  of an exercise to rescue the president. None of that had mattered, and

  that was a big problem.

  As if reading her thoughts, Gary walked up, set two gear bags

  beside her, and said, “Stop beating yourself up. What happened out

  there was an accident. You okay?”

  “I’m okay.” Evyn leaned against the wall inside the entrance to

  the rescue station. “Listen, you should get out of here if you’re going to

  catch the flight home.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m going to be here a while. I need to check Wes over, and she

  needs to at least get some sleep before she flies. I’ll rebook us on a flight

  out in the morning.”

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  Oath Of hOnOr

  “You want me to stay?”

  “You don’t need to. Your wife will be happy if you make it home

  tonight, and you’ll score with her for the next time you can’t get

  home.”

  Gary smiled. “Damn sensitive of you…and I appreciate it.” He

  paused. “You did right out there, Evyn—start to finish. Stop second-

  guessing yourself.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know, Gary. I wasn’t thinking about

  anything at all—I just reacted. If I’d waited just a minute, she might

  have come right back up to the surface, Cord would’ve thrown her a