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“Sheila. Sheila Griffin. My husband is—was Mickey. And I can’t get out. When the car hit the water, the dashboard collapsed on me. My left leg is stuck.
“Shelia, I’m Riggs. Maybe I can—”
“Mister Riggs, please. My husband is dead, and I’m about to be. Please don’t let my baby die. Save him. Please.”
Riggs nodded. He’d been looking into the car as she talked, and she was right. There was no way he could get her out, and rescue wouldn’t arrive before the car went down.
“What’s your son’s name?”
“Robert, but we call him Robby.”
Robby. That’s what his grandmother called his grandfather Robert. Why that popped into his mind was a mystery, but it did and carried a strange emotional punch.
Maybe because his grandfather would have been the first to tell Riggs to do whatever it took to save the child. He’d always said that. “Let me tell you, Riggs. Grownups, well, we’ve had our chance, but kids… they need protecting, so when you’re out there, wherever you are, you make sure if there’re kids that need saving, you save them.”
Riggs took that to heart when his grandfather first said it. He still did.
“That’s a good name, and I’m going to make sure he gets a good home with a family who will love him.”
Sheila screamed as the car sank a good foot and water poured in through the window. “No. God sent you. It has to be you. Promise me, Mr. Riggs. Promise you’ll always take care of Robby. Please. Please.”
Her tears made her hard to understand, and it almost brought him to tears. He’d seen a lot of awful things, watched people die, and had learned to harden himself to it.
Not this time. Here was a young mother, knowing she was about to die and desperate to hear that her son would be protected and loved. It was all that mattered.
Riggs looked in the back seat to see Robby watching him. No tears, no screams, just big blue eyes staring at him. The car started sinking, meaning he was out of time. He reached in, unhooked the baby from his car seat, and pulled him into one arm, using the other to balance himself in the water beside the car.
“I promise, Sheila. I’ll be his family.”
“Thank you,” she smiled and then blew a kiss to the baby. “I love you munchkin. Always.”
Riggs felt it; the vortex was upon them. He pushed away from the car as hard as he could with his foot and one arm and paddled like hell to put as much distance between him and the car as possible.
He felt the vortex pulling at him and fought against the tug. Holding a baby with one arm left him minus an arm and a foot. He almost laughed. A one-footed, one-armed SEAL hops into a bar…
Black humor, yeah, but in times like now, it came in handy because he was no longer concerned about being pulled under with the sinking car. But he couldn’t get past that last look the baby’s mother gave him or the promise she exacted from him.
As if a door had suddenly opened, the noise around him crowded in. Sirens and horns, the screams of people on the bridge. Wait, what was that? It sounded like a helicopter.
Sure enough, a second later, one appeared. Its searchlights moved over the water, and one passed right over him. He did his best to raise his free arm and wave, which made him sink and endanger the baby, so he stopped.
“Riggs!
That voice. He turned, scanning the water. It sounded like Georgie. No, his mind must be playing tricks on him. She didn’t jump, so she couldn’t be in the water.
“Riggs!” Damn, it sounded like her.
“Here!” he yelled.
“I can hear you. Keep yelling!”
“I’m here.” He waited two seconds and repeated it. When he yelled it for the sixth time, he was rewarded with a new response other than. “I’m coming.”
“I see you!”
And just then, the helicopter’s searchlight landed on him, putting him in a cone of light. A few seconds passed before he saw her enter the light. Georgie. What the heck was she doing out here?
She swam over to him. “Oh my god, a baby!”
