Wind River Protector Page 3

  God! That was close!

  “Exit!” Andy ordered in a croak, yanking at her harness, smelling the fumes of the fuel entering their cabin.

  “Roger!” Covington answered. He instantly shut off the fuel line above him, then wrenched the harness off his body.

  The door on the right was jammed because of the nose auguring in slightly to her side. Turning in the seat, she jammed her flight boots against it.

  The door popped open.

  Instantly, Andy bailed out.

  Covington was already out, running around the nose to come and get her away from the bird. The smell of fuel was heavy in the air. Despite him shutting off the fuel, the hard landing could have broken the line, and it was dripping somewhere above them. There was a chance of fire.

  Andy fell to her knees into a headlong dive. She scrambled upward and Bob grabbed her arm, hauling her forward. If this bird blew, if the fuel bladder had been punctured by the landing, they could be toast.

  Andy ran hard, keeping up with Bob, who had wrapped his hand around her arm as they raced away from the helo.

  Finally, when they arrived at the bleacher boxes, they turned quickly, gasping for air, breathing hard. Andy used her shoulder radio to call in the emergency landing, gave the police dispatcher their location and said to call the fire department to the scene.

  Bob shook his head, taking off his helmet and setting it on a wooden bleacher, running his hands through his thinning gray and black hair.

  “That was close,” he said in a shaky voice. “You okay, Andy?”

  “Yeah, just shook up. You?” and she sized up Bob, who was in his early fifties. Even in the dusk, he looked pale. Andy was sure she looked the same way.

  “Bruises, nothing else. A damned drone! I hope they find the kid or adult who flew it into us.”

  Andy studied the helo in the coming darkness. The blades had stopped turning and it looked like a wounded bird, half the nose buried beneath the sod. “I’m sure they’ll expend every effort to find the person who did this.”

  Rubbing his jaw, he looked up, hearing fire sirens coming their way. “There are gonna be more like this in the future. It sucks.”

  Andy nodded, adrenaline racing through her and making her hyperalert. They could have died. That engine could have stopped at fifty feet and she’d have no way to do anything to save them. They’d have dropped out of the sky like a rock. That she was sure of because ten feet versus fifty made all the difference in the world. The fuel bladder could have exploded on impact, for starters.

  She remembered Lieutenant Dev Mitchell’s Black Hawk helo, which had been hit with enemy gunfire and exploded. He’d been the only survivor. Shaking her head, she tried to purge the memory from her mind. That was four years ago, but this crash brought back that night to her starkly. And the five days they were on the run, avoiding the Taliban who were hunting them.

  It had been a harrowing experience, and once they got picked up and taken back to Bagram, all Andy wanted to do was leave the military. Life was too precious. She might have wanted a career in the military, but that crash and subsequent life-and-death dodging of the enemy every day made her walk away from it. Besides, her adopted parents were relieved, and so was she. Staring at the broken helo out on the grassy area, her heart still pounding beneath her vest, she removed her gloves. The sirens of the approaching fire engines filled the air. A few people had pulled over on the four-lane street, getting out, looking through the wire cyclone fence at the broken helo.

  Andy felt shaky, knowing it was the letdown of adrenaline. Maybe this was a sign. Just like her A-10 taking fire and her having to bail out. Pulling off her helmet, she tucked it beneath her left arm, watching the three fire engines approach from the other side of the diamond. Controlled chaos. Andy was sure NTSB investigators had already been notified.

  “We’re going to have a lot of paperwork to fill out,” Bob said grimly, shaking his head. “All because of a stupid drone and an irresponsible owner.”

  Nodding, Andy pulled out her personal cell phone, turning it on. “I’m going to call my parents. I’m sure they’ll hear about this sooner or later, and I don’t want them to find out on the TV or internet.”

  “Yeah,” he said, tugging his cell phone out of his pocket, “I gotta call Jodi.”

  “She always has a police scanner on,” Andy said. “Try to beat her to the call.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, putting the phone to his ear and then walking a few feet away from her.

  Andy took the moment to connect with Maud and Steve Whitcomb.

  “Hello.”

  It was Maud, her mother. “Hey, Mom, Andy here,” she said, trying to sound upbeat. “I was just in a helo accident and I’m fine,” she stressed. “And so is Bob, my copilot. A drone flew into the helo and I . . . uh . . . it was a hard landing, but we aren’t hurt.” She knew her mother would not take this news well.

  “No! Andy, are you really okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said wryly, “just hurt feelings that I didn’t see that damned drone first.” She heard her mother’s ragged sigh. “Really, we’re both fine. We walked away from it. That’s all that counts.” She wanted to soothe her mom, not inflame the situation.

  “This is twice, Andy!” She muttered something away from the phone and then said, “After the first crash, you know your dad and I wanted you to get into something safer.”

  “I know, I know,” she muttered. “I did, Mom.”

  “You didn’t do this on purpose,” Maud said, her voice low with stress, reeling from the shock of the call.

  “You’re right about that,” Andy said, forcing a chuckle she felt she needed to boost her mother’s mood, “this is two. Third one I could . . . well, you know.”

  “Things come in threes, Andy. Is there any way we can get you to come home for a week when this incident is all over? I’m sure there will be a lot of questions by investigators, papers or reports to hand in.”

  “All of that,” Andy assured her. “Look, let me call you back? I see our watch commander. He just drove up. The firefighters are here as well. I’ll talk to you later. Make sure Dad knows I’m fine. Okay?”

  “Yes, I will. Can we Skype when you get home? I know you probably have a million things to take care of first.”

  “I promise,” she whispered, suddenly wanting to cry. That shook Andy. She wasn’t normally like this. But she was four years older and she wasn’t the ballsy young woman who had joined the military to make a difference, to fight for her country.

  “I’ll call Sky, Gabe and Luke. I’m sure they’ll hear about this crash sooner, not later,” Maud said.

  “Thanks, Mom, I appreciate that. I’ll get hold of you tonight when things calm down. I love you and Dad. Just know that.” She heard a small intake of Maud’s breath and swore she could feel the roiling emotions in her tone, the shock and reeling from the news she’d crashed—again. And walked away from it—again.

  “We love you so much, honey. We’ll wait for your call.”

  The shakiness subsided as the minutes wore on. By the time night had come, she and Bob were picked up and taken back to their precinct. It was there that Andy spent the next three hours. By the time she drove home to her apartment, she felt gutted. Her brothers and sister had each called her, wanting to be reassured she was okay. Andy was the oldest of the four who were all adopted by Maud and Steve. Her mother couldn’t have children—a genetic affliction—and they had opened their hearts to the two boys and two girls. Never had she felt so loved as with her ranching parents in Wyoming. Gabe, Luke and Sky were truly her family, too. There was nothing but love shared between all of them.

  Weariness crashed over her, and when she got in her apartment, she took off the flight suit and boots and went for a long shower, as hot as she could stand it. When she emerged later, it felt as if her feet were made of concrete. Wanting to do nothing but sleep, she forced herself to pick up her cell phone and call her parents.

  Steve, her father, answered
.

  “Hi, Dad, it’s me.”

  “You sound tired, Punkin.”

  Warming to the endearment, she sat down on her bed, pushing the slippers off her feet. “I’m whipped, Dad. I wanted to call to let you know I’m okay. Got all the reams of paperwork filled out, I’m home, had a hot shower and now I’m going to bed.”

  “Sounds good. Can you call us tomorrow morning sometime? I know your mother has something to tell you.”

  Groaning, Andy said, “I hope it’s not bad news.”

  Steve laughed a little. “No, it’s not, Punkin. I promise. Hit the sack. We’ll talk by Skype tomorrow.”

  She nodded. “Thanks for understanding, Dad. Tell Mom I love her, too.”

  “I will. We’ll talk soon. Love you.”

  She turned off the cell and placed it on her bed stand because she was off duty the next three days. Tomorrow afternoon she had to see a flight surgeon for a thorough checkup. All part of the NTSB investigation. Andy was looking forward to these days off. She crawled into her queen-size bed, snuggled in and promptly spiraled into a deep sleep.

  Her dream began almost as soon as she slept, one she’d had before. There was Dev Mitchell’s Irish good looks, red strands mixed with his sable-colored hair, those intense green eyes, the color almost magical because the shade seemed to change depending upon the light or lack of it. Sometimes, in bright sunlight as they sat inside the cave or another place of hiding during the day, the color reminded her of fresh, young green leaves sprouting after a hard winter, spring just around the corner. At dusk, his eyes took on a more olive quality. And when he’d tease her, which was often as a way to keep her spirits up when they were running for their lives, Andy swore they were a gorgeous emerald green. She’d always thought he was somewhat magical but had never given it voice. It had been her secret, and it was one of the few positives in their unexpected meeting.

  Dev Mitchell had protected her. She outranked him, though they were near the same age and had been in the military almost the same amount of time. More than once, he had shielded her in those dangerous moments, and Andy was grateful. She wasn’t the athlete he was either. She rode a combat jet in the sky. He’d said that if he wasn’t flying or jogging at the air base where he was stationed, he worked out at a gym. She was not a gym or jogging person. There were too many times to count when she’d slowed him down and her physical weakness had put them in dire jeopardy. Through it all, he never once blamed her. He only doubled down and used creative ways to hide them from the ever-present Taliban.

  The dream shifted, and she was standing with him in an interrogation office, just finishing up their interview with agents after they were returned to their base. They had left the building together, and Andy knew this stalwart pilot was going to walk out of her life. She didn’t want that to happen. Dev and his squadron were based at Jalalabad—J-bad—and she was here at Bagram. Already he’d been informed that after the interview, he was to be picked up by Humvee, taken to the helo terminal and flown back to J-bad.

  Just as she was going to say something, the Humvee pulled up. Dev had turned to her, his face darkly shadowed because there were few lights on the base come nightfall. During their run for freedom, Andy had admitted to him that if she got out of this alive, she was going to hand in her papers and leave the military.

  “Wait, Dev,” she said.

  He smiled tiredly down at her. “They need me now, Andy. I have to go.”

  “I just want to say thank you,” she said a little breathlessly, clinging to his gaze, those thick lashes of his framing his dark green eyes as he studied her at the curbside.

  He handed her a business card from his pocket. “This is where I’m at presently. I get moved around a lot, but you should be able to contact me here if you want.”

  She took the card. “Yes, I want to do that, Dev. I don’t want to lose touch with you . . .”

  He reached out with his long, spare hand and gently pushed some errant strands of her hair away from her temple. “You’re leaving the Air Force. A new chapter in your life. I truly wish you well, Andy. We made a good team out there.”

  And he turned and disappeared into the Humvee.

  Andy stood there on the curb, watching the Humvee take off down the street. She wanted to throw up her hands and stop it. Her chest ached. Tears smarted in her eyes. There was something in his eyes, a kind of sadness, as he reached out to her. So much she wanted to say, and yet she was such a coward, her throat with a lump in it, the words stuck.

  But he’d given her his squadron’s card and she gripped it, afraid she’d lose it. But they both knew circumstances weren’t right for them. Andy didn’t even know whether Dev was married with a passel of kids. They’d never spoken in personal terms during those five days, in part because they were being hunted and talking could get them found by the sharp ears of their enemy. She didn’t know about Dev, but she was scared out of her wits. The specter of being beheaded, her parents seeing the video on the internet, haunted her.

  Andy moaned and briefly awoke. For a moment, she forgot where she was, still tied to that dream that came at least four times a year. She’d never heard from Dev again after the rescue party brought them to Bagram’s hospital. Later, when she wasn’t able to locate Dev, she departed the military in Bagram and finished signing the exit papers at Travis Air Force Base, near San Francisco. From there, Andy had decided she didn’t want to leave flying, though she didn’t want to become an airline pilot, Helicopters had always drawn her, and she wasn’t ready to leave her risk-taking days behind her either.

  Sighing, she turned over, pulling the sheet across her shoulders, burrowing her face into the pillow. Dev’s face reappeared, and it comforted her. It always had. Especially out in the wilds of Afghanistan, where she felt like the hunted. Had he been married? Did he have children? Where was he now? She dropped back into a dreamless sleep as she asked that last question, and it remained unanswered, as always.

  * * *

  Andy’s heart burst when she saw her parents appear on the Apple computer screen, sitting together at their office desk. She had slept in late, getting up at nine a.m., unheard of in her world. It served to tell her how much the hard landing had taken out of her last night. After grabbing a quick breakfast, she’d sat down and Skyped them. Her mother, Maud, was as beautiful as ever, her silver and black hair short and shining, and she was wearing a red tee, her favorite color, and faded jeans with a brown leather belt. Her father, Steve, was in a blue chambray shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, in jeans as well. She absorbed the love for her shining in their eyes.

  “You look tired,” Maud said gently, pointing to under her own eyes.

  “I had a restless night’s sleep, Mom.”

  “Walking away from a crash would do that to anyone,” Steve said, giving her a warm look meant to make her feel better.

  “I was dreaming of that guy who saved my butt four years ago in that crash in Afghanistan,” she admitted.

  “You still dream of him?” Maud asked.

  Quirking her lips, Andy said, “Yes. Silly, isn’t it?”

  “No,” Maud said. “He saved your life. I wouldn’t forget him either.”

  “That’s true,” she murmured, looking at Dev in a new light. “I just wish I could have had more time with him. He was a nice person.”

  “Some things aren’t meant to be, Punkin.”

  She nodded, holding her father’s thoughtful gaze. “Ever the philosopher in our family,” she teased.

  “I think every family needs a risk-taker,” Maud said, smiling, “and a philosopher. One steps on the accelerator, the other steps on the brake.”

  “Hmmm,” Andy murmured, “that’s true of us, for sure. Dev Mitchell acted like the accelerator in our unexpected coming together and I was the brake. But to be fair to him, he knew how to survive that crash and I didn’t. I was always dragging my feet.”

  “You said one time,” Steve said, “that you just weren’t physically able to keep u
p with him, that he had to rest more often because of you. That’s not putting on the brakes, Punkin. Just because you weren’t in as great shape as he was didn’t mean you didn’t bring intelligence and insight to your situation. We know you did.”

  “That was true,” she agreed. Sighing, she opened her hands. “I feel like I’ve just closed the next chapter of my life. I felt that way after the crash of my A-10.”

  “Seems like it,” Maud said. “You know that for the last three years we’ve been fully involved in getting the state of Wyoming and the federal government to build a regional airport in Wind River.”

  Nodding, she said, “Yes, a very exciting project. God knows, the Wind River Valley needs something like this to pull them out of poverty and give the people a place to get good jobs. I can’t think of an area that needs it more.”

  “Which is why your dad and I have been working so hard to make it happen. I have some news for you, Andy. And I think you might be interested.”

  “Oh? What?” She lifted her cup of coffee and took a sip.

  “Well,” Maud began, excitement in her tone, “we’ve had two possibilities hanging fire. One was that we’re trying to get federal approval for a helicopter for our local hospital. The other was getting a helicopter for law enforcement in Lincoln County. Sarah Carter, the sheriff, just called me yesterday to tell me that the feds had finally approved the money to go ahead and purchase a Black Hawk helicopter, along with employing four pilots and copilots, plus a two-person ground crew that would include crew chiefs. It’s a huge win for us. Sarah is over the moon.” Maud leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. “Andy, they’ve hired a director and he has put out a want-ad for pilots and copilots. Is this something you might want to be involved in? I know Wind River Valley isn’t LA, but it would allow you to do what you love most, which is fly.”