Surviving Love: Saints Protection & Investigations

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Surviving Love: Saints Protection & Investigations Page 17

by Maryann Jordan


  Laughing, Marc turned and began to slowly make his way to the edge of the meadow. Stopping at the treeline, they set their packs down as he scanned the area. “They’ll get a lock on our location and should be here soon.”

  Within fifteen more minutes, they heard the sound of helicopter blades whirring as it approached.

  *

  “We’re close,” Logan called out to the Saints strapped into the back of his Lakota helicopter. Bart looked down, seeing nothing but the tops of the trees in the thick forests below, placing his faith in his former commander.

  Jude, sitting in the co-pilot seat, kept his eye on the signal coming from Marc. “Just a few clicks away,” he said, excited for the mission to be accomplished successfully.

  Logan looked at the terrain as they passed over the mountains and came upon a frozen lake. Just beyond the lake lay a snow-covered area that appeared flat, but he knew underneath the snow it would be rocky and unstable. “Looks like we’ll be lowering the hoist.”

  “If Marc’s too injured, I’ll go down to secure him,” Bart volunteered.

  “Looks like they might be okay,” Blaise called out. Using binoculars, his eyes were trained on the edge of the woods, where he ascertained that two figures were coming from the forest, the smaller one supporting the much taller person. “The snow is deep and cumbersome, but Marc’s managing with help from Dr. Rhodes.”

  “Look likes she’s holding her own just fine,” Bart added, his gaze now on the figures slowly trudging out from the cover of the woods.

  Jude radioed to Marc’s phone, “We’re sending down the hoist. Can you secure Dr. Rhodes?”

  As Jude received the affirmative from Marc, Bart readied the hoist, standing by the controls to send it down.

  *

  Kendall longed for the step-hobble of the other day, when the snow had not yet drifted so high. She could tell Marc was having to put more pressure on his injured ankle, so she moved up and slid underneath his arm to offer her body as a crutch. He began to scowl, but acknowledged that the high drifts of snow, now that they were out of the woods, made movement almost impossible.

  Looking up, he carefully watched as the helicopter came closer, its roar sounding out over the open space. He observed the side door open and his heart felt lighter as he recognized Bart leaning out with the hoist.

  “Is he crazy?” Kendall exclaimed, as she shielded her eyes and noted someone from the helicopter hanging out the open door. The blades whirled above, swirling the surface snow all about them, making visibility difficult.

  “Don’t worry, he’s strapped in,” Marc explained.

  “Oh,” she replied, feeling slightly foolish, until she realized the helicopter was not coming lower. “We have to make it all the way up there? With just that rope?” Twisting her neck to look up at Marc’s calm face, she tried to draw strength from his lack of concern. Failing at that, she then tried to just force down the hysteria bubbling in her chest.

  He felt the fear rolling off her in waves and squeezed her shoulder. “Kendall girl, you can do this. It’s a steel cable and won’t break. I promise I’ve got you and I can vouch that those men up there will care for you just as they would their own women.”

  Nodding, she sucked in her lips, the sting of ice against her face forcing her to accept that they needed to get out of the elements, even if that meant hanging by a steel cable harness from a helicopter. “I got this,” she announced, as firmly as possible, trying to ignore her quaking legs.

  Grinning, he kissed her forehead as he tucked her into his arms again. “Good girl.” With a wave, he indicated to Bart that they were ready. The hoist began lowering with the harnesses and clamps.

  *

  “Fuck! We’ve got company!” Logan shouted, his eyes on the horizon.

  “What have you got?” Bart asked, twisting his head around to see what Logan was talking about.

  “Another bird coming in low, circling close to where we’re going.”

  “We’ve jammed Marc’s signal,” Jude protested. “No fucking way anyone can tell where he is!”

  “Fuckin’ hell,” Logan cursed. “Then someone’s just waited until the storm passed and they’re out scouting. And we’re going to beacon them right in. Get armed.”

  Blaise and Bart, already armed, readied themselves, both cursing. The helicopter banked hard to the right as Logan began evasive maneuvers.

  “Hang on boys, might be a shootout at the OK corral!” Logan called out, his face grim.

  *

  Seeing the helicopter swerve away, Marc’s gaze scanned the sky searching for the reason, landing on the other helicopter moving in. “Get down!” he yelled, pulling Kendall down with him, face first into the snow.

  “Umph!” she groaned as she lay buried in the snow, Marc’s heavy body covering hers.

  He raised his head just in time to hear rapid gunfire in the distance and watched as the two birds flew around each other, both aggressive and evasive, the sound of discharging weapons reverberating. Aware of Kendall’s body underneath his, he warred between wanting to move off her and keeping her protected. Shifting slightly to the side, he said in her ear, “Hang on, sweet girl, I promise we’ll get up out of the snow.”

  Twisting her head, she grunted, “What’s happening?”

  “Looks like someone else was waiting for the storm to end so they could find us.”

  Eyes widening, she gasped. “Who is it? Who’s after me? I’m no one!”

  Sparing a glance toward the sky again, seeing Bart firing out of his side, he looked back down at her frightened face. “I don’t know…but we’re gonna find out!”

  The sounds in the air changed and Marc watched as the other helicopter flew away and Bart’s bird moved back over them. Leaping to his feet, ignoring the pain, he bent over and pulled Kendall to a standing position. “Come on, Kendall girl, let’s go. They’ve chased the others away for now, so we’ve got to get moving.”

  Seeing their rescue hovering over them again with the hoist lowering, Marc looked down at her and explained, “We’ll go up together to save time.”

  Heart pounding, she fought to breathe. “Will it hold both of us?”

  “No worries,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the hoist waving in the wind. “You don’t weigh anything. It’s strong enough to easily get us up.”

  Reaching out to grasp the harnesses, he turned to her and began to fasten her in. She tried to help, but their hands were numb with cold and both fumbled with the clasps. Finally getting her in, he stepped into his harness, but staggered as his ankle gave out under his weight.

  Kendall instinctively grabbed him, throwing her body under his arm to keep him from falling. Steadying him, she worked the clasps on his harness. He double-checked them before looking up, now seeing Blaise’s face alongside Bart’s. Giving them a thumbs-up, he threw his arms around Kendall, holding her close as their feet left the ground.

  With a squeak, Kendall grabbed onto Marc’s shoulders as they began to twirl around as they were lifted slowly. Glancing up, she saw the blades whirling on the helicopter, petrified they would somehow come in contact with them. Darting her gaze down, nausea swept over her as she watched the ground spin around.

  “Keep your eyes on me. Just me. I’ll be your safe place,” Marc ordered, seeing the terror on her face. “Good girl,” he said, at her quick acquiescence.

  He looked up again and smiled, seeing the Saints’ faces coming closer.

  Suddenly, the helicopter swerved to the right again, taking the dangling couple on a ride over the forest, their feet barely missing the treetops.

  “Shit!” he cursed and Kendall’s eyelids jumped open as she screamed, their bodies flying through the air.

  Chapter 21

  “Hold the fuck on!” Logan yelled as he banked right. Keeping the returning helicopter in his sights, he pulled up, making sure to fly high enough to keep their mission above the trees. “Get ‘em up!” he ordered unnecessarily, as Bart worked the hoist at its fa
stest speed.

  “Goddamnit,” Blaise cursed, looking out the door as Marc and Kendall twirled in a fast circle, the hoist line at an angle as the couple trailed behind over the treetops.

  Kendall whimpered as she clung to Marc, her lifeline, as motion-sickness hit. What had begun as a slow twirling, but vertical climb, was now a spinning-dragged-through-the-air-behind-the-helicopter ascent, the cold wind slicing through her as a painful death appeared imminent.

  Marc, hating the turn of events, knew they were strapped into the harnesses, but held on to her body as though he were the only thing keeping her alive at the moment. Their legs tangled together as he tried to wrap her tightly, offering his body as whatever protection he could provide.

  Jude jumped to the back of the bird, hooked himself in and threw open the other sliding door, his weapon ready. Blaise took over the winch as Bart settled in with his weapon covering the other side. For most people the the ability to fire a long-range weapon out of a helicopter toward another helicopter would be an impossibility, but for the two former SEALs, their marksmanship skills took over.

  “Can you get a bead on them?” Logan asked. “I can’t outrun them with the hoist down—too dangerous.”

  As the other helicopter made a move to fly under them, in a maneuver that would kill Marc and Kendall, Bart took aim at the pilot. “Come on, come on,” he breathed, waiting for just the right second. Firing, he hit his target, shooting into the front window and hitting the pilot, who immediately slumped over.

  The smaller helicopter began spinning out of control in a downward path and within a few seconds, the crew of the Lakota watched as it crashed into the forest, bursting into flames. At the roar below them, Kendall jerked her eyes open in fright, sure that the noise was coming from their helicopter.

  “We’re good!” Marc yelled to her, but knew from her blank expression she was in shock. Looking up, he saw they were close to their rescuers.

  Bart jerked around, coming up beside Blaise and Jude, peering over their shoulders. Seeing the couple getting closer, he yelled toward Logan, “Steady on…we’ve almost got ‘em!”

  As soon as Marc was within range, Bart reached out, grabbing him by the jacket arm and began to pull him toward the open door. With Jude and Blaise’s assistance, they managed to maneuver Marc and Kendall into the Lakota, their bodies landing in a tangled heap on the hard floor. Once the doors were slammed shut, Logan quickly changed direction, heading to where he could refuel for the trip back to his place.

  Marc felt Kendall shaking uncontrollably and refused to let her go. They lay on the helicopter floor, her arms tightly locked onto his neck, his still around her middle.

  “Marc,” Blaise said softly. “I’ve got to check you out.”

  “Can you get us unfastened first?” Marc replied just as quietly.

  The Saints understood Kendall’s shock and hands gently reached around and between the two. Jude managed to get the harness from Marc’s shoulders and upper body before sliding the sling from his legs. Bart unfastened the harness clips from Kendall’s chest but she burrowed tighter to Marc and he looked at his friend to see what to do.

  Marc murmured words of comfort, over and over, to Kendall in an attempt to get her to relax, but to no avail. With help, he managed to sit up, pulling her onto his lap. Stroking her hair, he nodded toward his injured ankle and Blaise moved down to his foot.

  Pulling off Marc’s boot and unwinding the wrap, Blaise examined the swelling. “Don’t think it’s broken, but it’s sure as hell sprained. We’ll need x-rays when we get back just to be sure.”

  Bart slid Marc’s cap off and took a look at the cut on the side of his head. “You could probably use stitches on this, but no infection has set it.”

  The three Saints kneeled around the couple, none of them sure how to assist Kendall. Blaise put his hand on her back while she remained tucked in Marc’s embrace. “Dr. Rhodes…Kendall? I’m Blaise and I’m a medic. Can I take a look at you, please?” With a nod from Marc, Blaise unlinked her tightly clasped fingers from around Marc’s neck, drawing her frozen arms down. Jude wrapped a blanket around Marc’s shoulders as Bart did the same with Kendall.

  Leaving her still sitting on Marc’s lap, Blaise turned her toward him to shine a flashlight into her eyes. Blinking several times as if coming out of a trance, she gasped, sucking in a deep breath. Looking up at Blaise, her chest heaved as though just coming back to life.

  Marc shifted slightly, murmuring continuously to her until she jerked her head around, her gaze locking onto his. “We…we’re…we…” she stammered.

  “We’re safe, we’re safe, sweet girl,” he assured, his hand rubbing up and down her back. “We need to get warm and checked out…can you do that for me?”

  Licking her lips, she bobbed her head as her gaze finally cleared and she looked around. As each Saint introduced themselves to her, she attempted to smile but her face still felt frozen. Assisting her to her feet, Blaise kept his hands protectively on her as her legs wobbled unsteadily.

  “Y’all good?” Logan called out from the pilot’s seat.

  Bart affirmed their condition and introduced Marc, who had moved just enough to nod his acknowledgement to their pilot.

  “Sorry about the ride I had to take you on,” Logan said.

  “Didn’t look like you had much choice,” Marc replied, “and I’m grateful you got to us instead of them!”

  Logan grinned and, tossing a wave, went back to concentrating on flying. Having shucked his coat, Marc managed to get his outer layer of pants off, still hobbling on one leg. Jude indicated for Marc to sit in one of the back seats of the bird so that he could re-wrap Marc’s ankle.

  Marc’s gaze stayed on Kendall’s as she fumbled with the button on her jeans, having used Bart’s assistance to slide her coat off as well. He noted her hands shaking and knew both the cold and adrenaline were at work. Before moving to the seat near Jude, he hobbled over to her and gently brushed her hands to the side, unbuttoning and then unzipping her wet pants. Hooking his thumbs into the waistband, he slid them down her legs and she stepped out of them as she held on to his arms.

  Blushing slightly at the intimate touch of his hands on her with their audience, she threw him an embarrassed smile before patting his arm, indicating she was all right. With a wink, Marc sat in the seat and allowed Jude to wrap his ankle for support.

  Blaise whipped out a stethoscope and began to examine Kendall. Other than her heart racing, her lungs were clear. “Were you injured during the crash or since then?”

  Shaking her head, she answered, “No…just a few bruises, and I bumped my head, but that was all.” Shivering, she added, “I’m just cold.”

  Blaise pulled the thermal blanket around her tighter and said, “You were in the snow and then dragged through the freezing temperatures traveling at a high speed. Add to that the adrenaline and shock and I’m not surprised you’re cold. But we want to warm you up and get some food and water in you, okay? And we’ll need to check out your head when we get back—no point taking any chances.”

  She nodded but her gaze jumped from Blaise’s kind face over to Marc’s. He smiled at her and she finally managed to get her facial muscles relaxed enough to smile in return.

  Slowly looking around the inside of the helicopter, she noticed it was much bigger than the airplane she and Marc had flown in. Besides the pilot and empty co-pilot seat, which the large, curly-haired Saint climbed into, there was the cold, flat floor between the two sliding doors. Behind that were five seats, one of which Marc was in as Blaise checked him out. The other Saint had moved to a seat behind her. We’re safe? We’re really safe? After the last several days, culminating in the terrifying last half-hour, Kendall could not truly believe it was all over.

  Marc watched the play of emotions move across her face and reached over to take her hand. She jumped, then blushed as she squeezed his hand in return. Behind them, Bart and Blaise grinned.

  *

  The Lakota lande
d easily at an outpost and as Kendall glanced out the window, she noticed an old, log cabin store with snow-covered mountains in the background. Her head swung around to Marc, but it was Logan who explained what they were doing.

  “This outpost has fuel for planes and helicopters. Plus, they’ll have some food and bathrooms inside.”

  “Are we still in Canada?” she asked, her voice full of concern.

  “Yeah, but don’t worry. The old coot who runs this place has been around for years. He doesn’t ask questions and won’t answer them either,” Logan said as he pulled his headphones off and grinned back at his passengers.

  “You’ll be fine,” Marc assured, linking his fingers with hers.

  Nodding, she added, “I really could use a ladies’ room right now.”

  Marc stepped out first then turned to assist her out of the aircraft. Linking fingers once again, he escorted her inside the old building. Once her eyes adjusted to the dim interior, she saw shelves stocked with an assortment of snacks, as well as canned goods. The scent of coffee from a pot behind the counter assaulted her nostrils and she was unable to contain her moan.

  Nudging her forward, Marc said, “Looks like the restroom is back there. You go on and I’ll follow.”

  “Is there only one?” she asked, her nose slightly wrinkled.

  “Doubt he gets a lot of tour busses full of people needing to use the bathrooms,” Marc joked, giving her a small push toward the door with a sign on the outside proclaiming, Knock first – no lock inside.

  “It doesn’t lock?” she squeaked, her eyes growing wide.

  “I’ll stand right here,” Marc promised, then teased, “Of course, you’ve been going outside in the snow.”

  Throwing a glare his way, she said, “Yes, but no one else was there except you and I trusted you.”

  Bending to plant a quick kiss on her lips, he promised, “You can still trust me, sweet girl. I’ll stand guard so no one will get in.”

  Desperate, Kendall opened the door and rushed inside, thrilled to be able to use an actual toilet. Pleased that the small room was clean, she reveled in being able to wash her hands with hot water and soap after finishing. Peering into the mirror over the sink, she stared at her reflection, horrified at what was looking back. Her hair, mostly out of the braid, stood up from her head in a frizzy halo. Her cheeks were ruddy and her lips were dry and cracked. Dark circles underneath her eyes and branch scratches ran along her cheek. Her clothes were wrinkled and worn, having been slept in, hiked in, and now flown through the air in. Ugh!

 

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