To Love and Protect

by Lindsay McKenna

  A curse ripped from Niall's lips. He grabbed the cyclic and collective hard and frantically worked the yaw pedals beneath his booted feet. "Call in a may-day!" he croaked. His mind whirled. A bad ball bearing could have caused this situation.

  The engines stopped. The chopper's blades floundered, then waffled unsteadily in the gale-force winds.

  They were going down. Down into the black, unseen ocean below.

  Brie grabbed the mike on the radio and thumbed it on. She made the call.

  The helicopter was sinking like a rock! They were at thirty-five hundred feet. She heard Niall grunt. Valiantly, he worked the yaw pedals to straighten out the flailing helicopter. Brie found herself jerked violently back and forth as he fought to gain the upper hand on the plummeting aircraft. They were going to crash! The thought was the last one Brie entertained. After making the call, her mind went into overdrive. The station had a last mayday fix on their location. They would send someone out to rescue them.

  But first they had to survive the helicopter crashing into the ocean, and climb out before it sank and took them down with it. A helicopter didn't float. It was like a huge boulder in the sky, with four blades to keep it aloft.

  Brie's mind flicked over egress procedures. Escape from a helo was via the sliding door on the starboard side of the fuselage. She would be responsible for getting out of her harness first, to make her way back to it before they sank and couldn't escape. Her other responsibility was to not only open the door, but retrieve the uninflated life raft hanging on the bulkhead opposite it.

  Abruptly, the instruments went dead, because there was no electricity being generated by the spinning blades and engine. The cockpit went black. They were being slammed around. The harness straps bit deeply into Niall's tense shoulders as he tried valiantly to pull up the nose of the helicopter. They were sinking fast! He had no idea of their altitude or when they'd hit the water. He could see nothing out the windows. Rain slashed around them, preventing him from a visual. They were blind. Completely blind. And they were going to crash. Would they survive? Suddenly, in that second, all his anger toward Brie was ripped away. Niall didn't want her to die! She was too beautiful. Too kind. Too loving... In the next moment, he bitterly regretted how their marriage had turned out. If only... If only they'd had a second chance! But that was impossible now.

  Brie sucked in a breath as the helicopter, nose up, slammed into the Pacific Ocean. The aircraft screeched and grated as it hit that massive and invisible wall of water. A second later, pain shot up her back and into her head from the crash.

  "Get out!" Niall roared.

  Instantly, Brie fumbled with her harness closures, trying to release them with her gloved fingers. Seconds dragged like hours. Come on! Come on! Lips pursed, she scrambled to find the openings.

  The helicopter lurched and her hands flew away from her body. Slamming into the side panel, Brie gasped. Quickly, blindly, she sought the harness closure once more and tugged at it, trying to get it open. Yes! Unsnapping her harness, Brie twisted around and lurched between the seats toward the cargo area behind.

  Landing hard on her hands and knees, she found saltwater splashing up around her. Gasping again, she struggled to stand. The aircraft was turning slowly, like a wounded whale. It was listing to port, groaning. She could hear the metal being torn by the fingers of the greedy, grasping ocean. Water sloshed ankle deep around her boots. Unable to see anything, Brie fumbled along the fuselage panel, hunting wildly for the door latch. There! Hands shaking, she pulled on it.

  Jammed! It was jammed from the crash. "No!" Brie cried. "It's jammed! I can't open it, Niall! Help me! Help!" Her voice was swallowed up by the burping, gurgling sounds of water entering the wallowing helicopter, which listed even more as it bobbed in the waves.

  Behind her, Brie heard Niall groping his way out of the cockpit in the unforgiving blackness. His hand hit her hip and he gripped her hard. The aircraft tipped more to port, almost upside down.

  "The door!" Niall gasped. "Open it!"

  "It's jammed!" Brie cried. "Help me!"

  Fumbling, Niall held on to her, wrapping his left arm around her waist to stop them from being thrown against the side of the chopper. Thrusting out his right hand, he followed her arm to where she was holding on to the door, and slid his gloved fingers through the latch.

  "Let go," he ordered, breathing raggedly.

  Instantly, Brie pulled her hand away, and fell backward. Slamming into the port side of the helo, she practically had the wind knocked out of her before she fell to the deck.

  Cold and numbing saltwater enveloped her. Briefly, she was underwater, but getting her feet under her, she surged upward. Coughing violently, eyes stinging, she tried to stay upright. If they didn't get out of here in a few seconds, they were going to drown. The helicopter was beginning to sink.

  With a curse, Niall wrenched back with all his weight and strength. The door was starting to give. Again he jerked at it. Water was gushing in past him now, nearly sweeping him off his feet. One more pull...

  The door finally screeched and slid open.

  "Brie!" he screamed. "Where are you?" He turned and clung to the door opening as the helo rolled completely over on its port side.

  "Here!" Brie scrambled upward, with the raft held tightly in her left hand. Somehow she'd managed to release it from the port fuselage. "The raft! Here's the life raft!" she yelled. "Take it! Take it!"

  Niall grunted as his groping hand struck the tightly rolled pack that contained the dingy. Brie's hand was locked beneath the strap. He hauled both toward him in a feat of strength that would have been impossible without the adrenaline beating wildly through his bloodstream now.

  Blindly, they leaped off the helicopter's lip and into the grasping, cold waters of the ocean. Niall had a firm grip on the shoulder of Brie's flight suit. He kicked out hard and fast to get away from the aircraft as it burbled and started to slide downward. The sucking, spinning whirlpool left in the wake of the sinking helicopter pulled powerfully at their heavy, waterlogged boots.

  Water deluged Niall. He went under, his hand still tight on Erie's shoulder. No way was he going to let her go! But his flight boots were like concrete weights, pulling him down.

  Instead of fighting to surface, he fumbled for the cord of his life vest. When he jerked on it, the vest instantly inflated. That alone helped pop him to the surface.

  The roar of the ocean surrounded Niall as he shot above water. Air! He could breathe! Sobbing for air, he anxiously tugged at Brie again, hauling her upward. When she surfaced, he heard her cough violently.

  "Inflate your vest!" he cried hoarsely. With it deployed, they wouldn't have to try and swim to keep their heads above water. He heard the hissing sound that told him it was inflating. Again Brie choked and coughed.

  Niall's fingers ached from holding on to the shoulder of her weather suit. But never would he let her go. Never. Raising his other hand, he pulled Brie against him, so they were face-to-face, body-to-body. If for even a second, he let her go he knew he'd lose her in this storm. The violent surging of the waves would quickly separate them and they'd never find one another again.

  "The raft!" Brie choked out. "We've got to inflate it!" And she fumbled for the releases.

  Managing to get the flashlight attached to his vest flicked on, Niall did the most important thing next. There was a special hook and nylon cord, located on the front of each vest. He took his hook and fastened it securely to the front of Brie's vest, so that no matter what happened, they couldn't be separated by the angry ocean. With her attached to him, he trained his flashlight beam on the raft she was still holding on to with a death grip.

  Releasing the straps, he found the valve that would initiate inflation. The moment he pulled it out, a loud hissing began. Within minutes the flotation device blew up into a yellow rubber raft.

  Brie gave a cry of joy as the raft inflated fully. That meant it hadn't sustained any punctures or cuts during the crash or egress. It was
a small, two-person raft with barely enough room for both of them, but with it, at least, they had a shot at survival.

  "You first," Niall shouted above the roar of the ocean. Wind and rain splattered his tense face. He helped Brie clamber awkwardly into the raft. She floundered drunkenly, the weight of the suit pulling her downward, making each of her efforts seem to be in slow motion. Her flight boots were filled with water, making it hard to maneuver. Setting his hand beneath her buttocks as she threw her arms over the side of the raft, Niall pushed upward with all his strength. Brie slid unceremoniously into the raft, arms and legs akimbo. The three-foot lifeline went taut as she turned and reached out to help him climb on board.

  "Give me your hand!" Brie cried, straining toward him. In the light of the flashlight tucked in Niall's vest she could see that his tense face was glistening with seawater. His eyes were hard and narrowed. Brie felt his large hand wrap around one of hers. In moments, he had hauled himself into the raft. Safe! They were safe!

  Gulping unsteadily, Brie watched as Niall maneuvered his bulk to balance the raft so it wouldn't overturn. There was a special hook and tether line that could be attached to their life vest. Hands shaking badly, Brie got the device and snapped it to the front of her vest and then Niall's. That way, if they were washed overboard by a huge wave, they wouldn't lose their raft.

  Niall saw Brie attach the raft tether to his vest. Her hands were shaking badly as she fastened the device. He saw the terror in her pale face, visible beneath her helmet. The weather was cold. The wind beat against them. It shrieked and moaned, sounding like a wounded animal in horrible pain. Niall knew by her expression that Brie wanted to cry. Without thinking, he shut off the flashlight and turned to settle down in the raft. Blackness engulfed them immediately. Then he blindly reached out to her.

  "Come here," Niall urged gruffly, placing his arm around her shoulders and drawing her into his arms. Brie came without fighting. She didn't stiffen or try to pull away. To his surprise, Niall felt her arms slide around his torso. She rested her helmeted head against his and he heard her gasping.

  "Go ahead," he said harshly against her cheek, "cry. We made it. We made it, Brie...." And Niall choked back a sob himself.

  Darkness surrounded them. Niall clung to Brie as much as she clung to him. The wind was howling, sometimes a soul-shattering shriek. Rain slashed and cut at them. He turned his face toward hers, their helmets protecting their vulnerable flesh to a degree. It was cold. Much colder than he'd ever imagined. Glad to be wearing the Mustang Suit, Niall felt his pounding heart begin to slow over the next few minutes. Just having Brie in his arms was all he needed at this moment. She felt soft and curved in all the right places, just as he'd remembered from so long ago.

  Brie let the tears come as she clung tightly to Niall. She needed his confidence and strength right now. They'd nearly died. If he hadn't gotten the door open, they'd have drowned already. The reality of their narrow escape from death avalanched through Brie. She felt Niall patting her shoulder awkwardly in an attempt to comfort her. Rainwater slashed relentlessly against her face, mingling with her tears. Crying was a relief valve for Brie. They were alive. Alive. And Niall was holding her. Even in the midst of this unfolding nightmare, his strength, his touch, soothed her shock and the fear of nearly dying. As she huddled against him, glad for the solidity of his strong, male body, Brie found herself wanting to let all the hurt from the past go. Why, oh why, couldn't they have talked it out? Why did he have to run away?

  The raft surged upward and they both tensed. Brie felt Niall's hands tighten around her like steel bands, to protect her from the unseen threat. They were riding a huge wave skyward at a terrific rate of speed. And then the raft slowed.

  Brie gave a cry of terror. She realized that the wave was probably twenty or thirty feet high, and the raft was riding it upward. If they didn't crest it, the wave would crash over them, hurtling them back into the sea. If that happened, they'd be flattened, like bugs under a flyswatter, by tons of water crushing down upon them. It would throw them out of the raft. They'd drink a lot of seawater. They might drown.

  "Easy...easy..." Niall whispered harshly. He felt Brie tense. Felt her hands work frantically around his torso, as if to hold on even more tightly. They were riding a huge, vertical wave, and he knew the consequences. Would they crest it or not? Holding his breath, he felt the raft slow even more. They had to be near the top of the giant.

  The roar around them heightened. It sounded as if they were standing in an echo chamber, with a jet engine screaming at them. For a moment, in the blackness, Niall felt as if he was in limbo, between two worlds. Without being able to see, he had no idea what was happening around them. Tightening his arms around Brie, he waited out the long, tortured seconds as the raft slowed to nearly a standstill.

  The burbling, rushing whoosh of water foaming around them happened within moments. And then the raft took in gallons of water as the wave boiled and vomited around them. Niall didn't try to get rid of the water; he knew the raft would float even if it was full. Relief rushed through him. They'd crested the monster wave.

  "It's okay," he whispered tautly to Brie. "We crested it. We're all right, sweetheart...."

  Chagrin filled him as the endearment slipped out of his mouth. Niall wondered where the hell that had come from. Brie had been his sweetheart; it was his pet name for her. And now, in a moment of real crisis, it had come flying out of his mouth. What the hell.

  There was too much going on, Niall decided as he eased his grip on her slightly. The raft was sliding gently now, down into the trough before the next wave. Not all waves were such monsters. But in a hurricane in the middle of an ocean, some could reach twenty or thirty feet with no problem at all. Sometimes even higher.

  "Okay?" Niall asked, as she eased back slightly. He still kept his arms around her because, despite then-past, he wanted to protect her. Although he couldn't see her, he could feel her. Brie felt good to him. She felt like home.

  Bitterly Niall reminded himself that he had no home. He never had. And now they had crash-landed and were drifting aimlessly in the largest ocean in the world. Had the Coast Guard station picked up their mayday before they crashed? Or would they die out here in each other's arms?

  Chapter 3

  "It's going to be all right...all right..."

  The husky, emotion-laden reassurance drifted into Brie's awareness, easing her terror-stricken state. She lost track of the roller coaster movement of the raft. The roar of the ocean was overwhelming and constant. Salt spray whipped across her face, stinging, painful and cold. Most of the time she kept her eyes tightly shut. If she opened them, they filled with the salty water and burned—and with the salty tears streaming down her cheeks.

  Oh, how Brie had dreamed of Niall holding her so tightly against him. This wasn't how she wanted it— not in a hurricane-driven ocean, where she wasn't sure if they were going to live or die. But just the act of clinging to him, feeling his strong, comforting arms around her, his sandpapery cheek pressed against hers as they were tossed wildly about in the blackened night, made her feel safe.

  Brie knew they weren't safe. She knew Niall couldn't tell with any certainty that they'd be all right. Still, the husky sound of his voice was balm to her shocked soul. Never in all her life had she anticipated such an incident occurring. She was a pilot, sure, and she trained weekly for just such a crash, but somewhere in the back of her mind, Brie had felt it would never happen. Well, it had. And in the worst kind of weather situation.

  Her arms were wrapped around Niall's torso. The raft wobbled and bobbed violently. Spray and white froth would rocket across them like icy bullets fired from an unseen enemy in the inky night They had initiated their individual radio beacons, small transmitters on their vests that would send out a mayday signal. However, the radius of the transmission was limited to a five-mile area. Any fixed-wing aircraft, such as the Coast Guard C-130 Hercules, a medium-size transport plane, would have to penetrate that zone in or
der for the instruments on board to pick up the mayday signal. That was their only chance for detection, their only chance for rescue from this watery hell. No other aircraft would be able to fly through eighty-mile-an-hour winds, through squalls and violent up-and downdrafts.

  Niall shut his eyes and clung strongly to Brie. She felt so damn good to him, despite the terrifying circumstances. The worst moment for him had been when he thought he was going to lose her in the sinking helicopter. Relief pumped violently through his heart that she had survived and was here, in his arms, as he'd always wanted her to be once more.

  Talking was impossible right now. Each time the raft slid upward, he knew it was climbing torturously toward the crest of some giant, unseen wave. In a way, Niall was glad it was night, because if he saw those monster waves during daylight hours, he knew he'd be scared to death. Never had he been in such a situation. If there was anything good about it, it was that Brie was here with him.

  In another hour, dawn would come. Daylight would help them in many ways. As he keyed his hearing, Niall thought the howling screech of the wind might be lessening. He knew from their last plotted position that they'd been flying very close to the center of the gathering hurricane. If only they could get into the eye! That would mean no rain for a while, only smooth, quiet ocean and a good chance to be rescued. However, there was no guarantee they'd make it into the eye; they were totally at the whim of the ocean.

  "Are you okay?" he asked, raising his voice near her left cheek. Erie's helmet covered her ears, and Niall knew he'd have to shout for her to hear him. He felt her arms loosen a little as the raft slid slowly down into an unseen trough.

  "Y-yes...just scared."

  He laughed bitterly. "Makes two of us..." He'd nearly said "sweetheart" again, but caught himself this time. Why did his traitorous heart want to gift her with that endearment?