by Vivian Arend
Tim answered immediately. “Yes.”
Dammit. She hadn’t expected that response, but she switched back to the open channel immediately before their passenger knew she’d been gone. “Outside a town, right, Red?”
“Anywhere I can get a ride.”
“They’ll be after you,” Tim warned. “We’ll tell the police where Ken and John are, and hopefully they’re caught, but if they get away, will those two know how to track you down?”
“They don’t know much about me. I was hired to transport a bag to them. Then they asked if I wanted to do one more job. I was supposed to be a bodyguard. They didn’t say anything about shooting anyone.”
“Where did you fly out of?” Tim asked. “Will they be able to track you by going back there?”
No answer.
“Hey, you don’t have to tell me. Was just curious, but don’t worry about it.” Tim turned and faced forward as Erin mentally suggested he shut up and leave this one alone. “What’s the nearest point you can do a touchdown, Erin?”
She was having a harder time than usual keeping things in a straightforward direction. “There’s a town about fifteen minutes for us, hours by road for Ken and John in case they had a vehicle up at the cabin. Hang on, though, I’m having issues here.”
Tim sat upright. “What kind of issues?”
“They shot something, Tim. I’m not sure what, but I’m losing control of my tail rotor in spurts.”
“That’s not good?” Red asked.
“Not good at all,” Erin confirmed. “I can land, but it might get bumpy before then. Strap yourselves in, guys, I’ll see what I can do.”
* * *
Tim glanced at their passenger. “You know what to do?”
The man was scrambling with the chest harness, twisting it the opposite direction to what needed to happen. “No.”
“Do you want some help?” Tim offered.
Red glanced up, and now instead of just seeing the massive size of the man, Tim spotted how young he was. “Yes.”
Tim was out of his seat when they lost altitude. Just a bump, but enough to drag a shout from all three of them; him, Matt, and Red.
“Sorry, guys. Between whatever the shot busted up out there and the changing temperatures, I don’t know how steady this flight is going to be,” Erin warned.
“You want to take us down the soonest possible?” Tim suggested as he made his way back to Red, clutching seatbacks and tie-downs as he moved in case there was another unexpected jolt.
“I want us down near civilization,” Erin muttered. “I’ve had enough of backcountry landing strips for one day, thanks.”
“Don’t be too picky,” Matt ventured.
Tim pushed Red back into his seat so he could straighten the harness webbing. “I agree with Matt. What if you lose pieces of the chopper altogether?”
“Then we’ll land sooner than anyone expects,” Erin taunted. “Stop fussing, old man, I know how to fly her, even if she’s having a bad day.”
Tim found a thread of amusement in the middle of his stress. He clicked the final straps together on their passenger, glancing up at Red’s face. “Notice she’s talking to the plane like it’s alive? See what I have to deal with all the time?”
The man didn’t smile, but he didn’t frown, either.
Tim gestured to the gun in Red’s hands. “Why don’t you put that away? If the trip does get rough, the last thing any of us needs are holes in vital places. Those kind of concerns make it tough to concentrate.”
Then he stepped away, slipping into one of the side seats and buckling himself in.
The fact that his medical backpack rested in the seat to his left was a big part of his choice of seating.
He strapped himself down. “Erin, did you put out a call yet?”
“No. I was waiting until we drop off Red.”
Shit. He glanced over at the young man. The gun was thankfully no longer out in plain sight. “Your call here, Red. The sooner Erin gets a location to the authorities, the sooner the guys might get caught.”
“But . . .” He frowned. “Yeah, I see that. Can you not tell them about me?”
“No problem,” Erin cut in. “I’m not going to do a ton of talking, only give them the coordinates of the cabin. The police will want to talk to us after we land, but you can be gone by then.”
Nice. Tim nodded reassuringly along with Erin’s words.
Red paused, then gave his approval. “Do it.”
“Thanks, Red. I have to change to a different channel, but we should be down in a few minutes.”
Tim had his backpack turned toward him, the thin hidden zipper along the bottom edge opening easily and allowing him to slip his hand in and make sure what he needed was ready. “Good job, Red. When we touch down, you head wherever you want, and we won’t even watch you go. We’ll take off and hit the closest airfield for the rest. Got it?”
“Yeah.”
“And just a suggestion?” Tim made a face. “Check out your prospective customers a little more carefully.”
Red’s answer was lost in the sudden change of volume outside the chopper, and a huge drop in altitude.
Tim instinctively clutched his chest harness. “Erin?”
“Working . . .” Her words died off into an unintelligible mixture of grunts and vicious complaints.
“That sounds more like swearing to me,” he responded. “Tell me what’s happening.”
“Nothing good.”
Then she ignored him, the chopper bouncing hard from side to side.
“Hold on tight, Red. This could get bumpy.” Tim followed his own advice, making sure he had his pack strapped in as well. He didn’t need a heavy weight slamming into him unannounced at any time.
Under them lights were appearing more frequently. “We’re into busier airspace, Erin,” he warned.
“Really. I wondered what all those shiny things were. Now shut up, and let me do my job.”
He glanced over his shoulder at Red. “She loves me, really she does.”
“Oh shit, hold on.”
Even her warning wasn’t enough. It was like being back on a cheesy ride at the fair. The ones that spin in a circle, throwing you to the outside of the seat with a sudden jerk before crushing the inside person into the poor sod on the outside edge. Tim was pushed back in his seat, only the left side of his harness webbing preventing him from being shoved any farther. A rapid rotation followed—eerie and hard to handle in the daylight when there were visual cues to help pull his equilibrium back to normal. Now in the mostly dark, it was a Disney ride gone evil. No idea when it would end, or how it would end, or at least that had to be what Red was thinking.
“Make it stop now,” the man begged.
“My God.” The words shook free from Matt, taut and fear-filled. “Erin?”
“Lost the tail rotor,” Erin snapped. “Trying . . . I think . . . Just wait.”
She swore again before cutting off the radio, leaving him, Matt, and Red alone on the line.
“She’s good,” Tim reassured the others, even as he clutched his thighs and concentrated on breathing through the rising nausea that was inevitable with the spin. He’d told Marcus long ago he had a cast-iron stomach, but he still had to work to keep in control.
Also, Erin was brilliant.
The overhead noise cut to a whistle, and the pitch of the chopper changed. Instead of spinning violently, they were moving forward and down, rushing rapidly into the darkness.
Tim’s head was still spinning. Matt was groaning. Red . . .
Their kidnapper was throwing up.
The sounds of his misery faded as Tim clicked to line one. “Erin, we landing soon?”
“Sooner than you’d like. Which tends to happen when you have to turn off your main rotor. We’re on autorotation.”
Shit. “This wasn’t some great ploy of yours?”
“Negative. We have no more tail rotor, and I’m aimed at what I think is a grocery store parking lot.
Hope there’s no twenty-four-hour Laundromat or something in the area.”
Tim leaned forward so he could see out the front, but from his angle it was nothing but levers and knobs, and a small windshield that was full of pitch black.
Out the side window the only clue of their forward speed was the flickering lights rushing past, the small balls of light growing larger at an alarming rate. The rush of dizziness had completely left him, a new flood of adrenaline washing through his system and preparing him for anything.
Which hopefully didn’t mean too hard a landing.
He snugged his straps as tight as they would go, then waited, trusting the woman behind the controls to get them through this.
Trust. There it was again, and in this situation there was no one that he’d want to deal with this more than Erin. Once they were out of this hole he’d be happy to spend all the time it took to convince her of that fact.
The lights grew larger still.
Erin came back on the radio. “Brace yourselves, guys. Changing angle in three, two, one . . .”
The aircraft tilted. After moving forward at a nose-down position for however long she’d had them in autorotation—free-fall using the rotors like a parachute, their nose tipped up, slowing their descent and bringing the skids into landing position.
They were in the middle of a parking lot, the tall lights at the corners of the lot creating a fantastic runway as the skids touched down and they basically landed like an aircraft, rolling forward briefly over the snow-slicked concrete. Erin brought them along so smoothly Tim wasted no time. He unsnapped his harness and grabbed his gun, out of his seat the moment the chopper tugged to a stop.
He turned on Red and got the gun into position. “Don’t move.”
The man’s expression of misery barely changed. “What the hell?”
Outside, flashing red-and-blue lights were converging on the chopper. Erin came back online. “Police are here. Sorry, Red, but there are some promises that aren’t meant to be kept. Anything that starts with a gun involved would be one of them. But we’ll tell the authorities exactly how much you helped us, and what we know you did and didn’t do. The rest is up to you, and how much information you have to give them.”
“Shit.”
Erin had shut down everything and stood in the cockpit, a gun in her own hand. “Tim, go talk to the police. Matt and I’ll keep an eye on Red here until they can take him away.”
There was the usual scramble of dealing with the police made much easier because their kidnapper-turned-rescuer wasn’t interested in struggling as he got put into the back of a squad car.
Tim was ready to burst from pride. They still had a ton of details to deal with, but for now? They were back in civilization and they were alive. There was no way this could be considered anything but a win, and Erin had been a major part of it.
Matt leaned on the car hood beside him. “I had no idea glacier tours were so . . . invigorating.”
Tim laughed. “Yeah. Erin knows how to show a guy a good time, doesn’t she?”
Erin slipped into his arms and squeezed him tight. “Maybe we can avoid the being-kidnapped part next time.” She held out a hand to Matt, and he leaned in and caught it. “I’m glad we made it out of that in one piece.”
“With my money still intact,” Matt added with a laugh.
“Hey, you notice your money got you a spot in the cabin instead of the shed. See how handy that was?” Tim teased. Erin leaned harder against him, and he cherished her warmth. The affirmation that she was alive.
That they were all alive.
“No more cabins. No more sheds,” Erin stated firmly. “And you two are responsible for finding us a way home from here. I’m done driving for the day.”
CHAPTER 20
Marcus peeled open the door a crack, glaring out at the three of them on his doorstep. “You really expect me to let you in after the mess you made of my chopper?”
“Idiot.” A towel hit him in the back of the head. “Open the door.”
He winked before stepping aside, the door swinging wide.
Becki rushed forward, stooping to pick up her towel and welcome them. “Ignore him and come inside.”
She offered a hug to Erin, which, all things considered, Erin gratefully accepted. “Thanks for the lunch invitation.”
“Are you kidding? I was ordered to invite you over because everyone wants to hear the entire story.” Becki squeezed once more before rotating her on the spot.
The rest of the Lifeline team, minus Alisha and Devon, stood in the living room, a few extra bodies hovering on the edges. Tripp’s boyfriend, Jonah, waved from the couch. Anders’s best friend shifted positions where he stood beside Anders. Marcus’s brother David was there as well. The owner of the local search-and-rescue training school stepped forward from the kitchen area, lowering a tray of snacks to the table.
“Dammit, I thought you’d all be busy with other things,” Tim complained. “There’s nothing interesting here. Move along.”
“No? I’ve never been kidnapped in the middle of a rescue. That takes some serious talent.” Tripp gestured them forward. “You may as well give us full disclosure all at one time rather than having to repeat it multiple times.”
“But Tim was planning on getting a barbecue dinner out of each of you while he shared the story over and over again,” Erin drawled. “You’ve gone and ruined everything.”
“Oh shit, barbecue . . .” Marcus darted across the room and through the deck doors, throwing open the lid on the massive grill. A cloud of smoke rose upward. He grabbed a set of tongs and poked around for a moment before waving the metal hooks reassuringly at the house. “No problems. All under control.”
Becki laughed. “Don’t worry, we have extra. But first—you must be Matt.”
He accepted her hand, then glanced around the room. “Nice place you’ve got. Thanks for including me in the invitation.”
“Hey, we’re an equal opportunity barbecue provider. You get kidnapped, you get the same goodies. Make yourself at home.” She picked up a platter from the side counter and held it toward Tim. “Any of you men who want to go do some male bonding, feel free.”
Tim had already been inching toward the doors, but he paused, taking the tray from her. “Is it that obvious we’re dying to be involved in making charcoal of good food?”
“It’s a genetic thing. We get it,” Erin said. “Go, have fun making fires.”
Suddenly the room was empty of all but Becki and Erin.
“We really need to do something about the lack of female population around here,” Becki complained.
“Definitely a good idea, but notice they’re the ones standing in the cold while we’ve got the warm house?”
“Because we plan ahead.” Becki held bottles in the air. “Beer, wine? Something harder?”
“Tequila shots at noon. I don’t think so.”
A lazy shrug lifted Becki’s shoulders. “Don’t consider it noon, consider it early in the day during your extended vacation. Marcus is giving you extra time off, did he tell you that yet?”
“No, but that’s great news.” Erin pointed at the beer. “One of those would be fine. And extra days off would also be fine.”
Becki twisted the top off and handed the bottle over. “You deserve it, and besides, Devon and Alisha aren’t back from training until Wednesday. So unless there’s a dire emergency that requires your flying abilities, Lifeline remains on break.”
Erin curled up in the corner of the couch. “Thank you. I’m pretty sure you had a hand in convincing Marcus that was a good idea.”
Becki settled beside her. “Maybe a little. How are you doing?”
“Tired,” Erin admitted. “By the time we dealt with the police, and the helicopter, and the media, and transferring all the Lifeline gear, it was past midnight. Tim got us dropped at a hotel for the night. We rented a car and drove home this morning. We stopped at Lifeline to dump gear, hit my place for a minute, then used Tim’
s apartment to clean up before heading over here.”
“A whirlwind. You do need some extra holiday time. Is Matt flying home later today?” Becki asked.
Erin hesitated. The discussion had remained very generic for the entire drive, at least the parts she hadn’t slept through. She wasn’t sure if it was because Tim didn’t want to talk in front of Matt, or the guys didn’t want to talk in front of her. Or maybe they were all just overloaded with their own thoughts after the heart-pounding adventure.
For whatever reason the trip had been mostly filled with bad radio reception and conversations about food. “You know, he didn’t say yet. There was talk about the meetings he has in Calgary, but I don’t think that’s until next week.”
She briefly went over what had happened, Becki’s eyes widening in appreciation at the appropriate moments.
“Damn. You did everything right and you were really lucky.”
“If Red hadn’t decided to help us, I’m not sure what we would have done. It’s not something I’d like to experience again anytime soon.” Erin shivered briefly.
“Agreed.” Becki leaned back on the couch. “Marcus said you’ve already got the helicopter dealt with.”
“Get this. One of the cops had a tow company on speed dial, the kind that deal with big rigs when they get into trouble. They loaded the chopper onto a flatbed, and she was on the road to Calgary before we were on our way to the hotel.” Erin laughed. “I bet Marcus told you that the chopper was safe before he told you about us.”
“Don’t be stupid.” Becki slapped her leg lightly. “He was worried. We all were.”
“I know, I’m just kidding. It was pretty scary. Scarier than any rescue I’ve done, and we’ve had some wild ones.”
“Another reason for a bit of a break,” Becki said.
“I thought the rule was get right back on the horse?” Erin let her gratitude show. “We’ll be fine. And hey, I proved I’m still up on my emergency chopper manoeuvres.”