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Alex’s quiet, calm voice came in over her helmet phones.
“I’m okay,” she rasped, struggling. The air crewman got on his knees, helping her to sit up.
Alex moved forward, dragging her back into his arms, settling her across his lap. “Now, wrap your arms around my waist. Tightly.”
She nodded, their helmets against one another. Her breathing was chaotic and she had never been so damned scared in a helo before. She’d ridden in plenty of them. But not like this. This was… hell… it was life and fucking death!
Alex wrapped his arms around her, slipping one hand between her back and the sixty-five-pound gear pack she carried slung across it. He brought up his long, strong legs, pinning her against him completely. She wasn’t going anywhere this time. He could feel her trembling, her breathing erratic.
“Did you hurt yourself?” he demanded. Because he could feel her shock. She’d slammed hard into the door. Maybe a concussion? He was in combat medic mode now. “Lauren?”
“I hit my head. The helmet took the hit. I’m okay. Okay…”
Now was not the time to examine her. Cursing to himself, Alex wished to hell this flight was over. Lauren was clinging to him like a shaking leaf in a storm. He couldn’t blame her. She didn’t weigh as much as a man. And, even wearing that heavy pack, the air pocket they’d first flown into had tossed her around like a feather in the darkened cabin. She’d end up with a concussion at least, or a broken arm or leg if this kept up. And Alex knew it could happen.
The bird suddenly lifted, as if thrown like a baseball at a hundred miles an hour. The surge nearly tore Lauren out of Alex’s arms but he held her down, fought the g-forces that wanted to tear her loose. His arms around her hurt like hell. He saw bruises on her. Oh yeah, no question: she was going to be black-and-blue from head to toe IF they ever got back on the ground alive and walked away from this bird.
The Hawk stabilized.
Lauren panted, relief zinging through her tense body. She could tell when the whirling blades were straining. Their heavy beating deepened and it felt like she was being bounced around like a damned yo-yo. Alex’s arms finally eased. She felt his hand find her cheek, brush it, as if to sooth her.
Was she upset? Hell, yes! Scared out of her mind? A double HELL, YES!
“Hey,” Curtis called, “ma’am? How many helo crashes have you got under your belt?”
Lauren couldn’t believe this guy. He was fucking certifiable. “Why?” she snapped.
Laughing, Curtis jawed, “Wal, us good-ole-boys from Texas always like to place a bet with our passengers. My copilot bets you have none. I told him you probably have at least two.”
Snorting, Lauren growled, “Five. So, you both lose the bet. What did I win?”
The pilots laughed hilariously.
“Ma’am, you are our first woman black ops we’ve ever had the privilege of flyin’ in this godforsaken CAT here in Peru. I’m gonna give you a Night Stalker patch you can proudly wear and show off to the other operators just to prove you survived this hellacious ride. It’s special-made for us crazy bastards who fly this region. It says, “Night Stalkers never quit”
Lauren shook her head. “I would get down on my hands and knees and pray that I get that patch from you, Captain. Because, from where I’m at, I don’t think we have a chance in hell of making our destination.”
More hilarity burst loudly out of the cockpit.
Lauren shook her head.Crazy bastards.
Alex gave a rumbling laugh, joining them.
Black humor always saved everyone’s ass on a bad day. Or, in this case: on a bad ride.
The Hawk was clawing and climbing now. Lauren could feel the blades cutting air, hanging on and scrambling like a climber might on the side of a rugged mountain he could fall off from at any moment. The jostling was less. She hoped that lasted. Wearily, she laid her head against Alex’s broad shoulder. She liked being in his arms, being sandwiched between his chest and his strong thighs. Closing her eyes, she felt a headache coming on. Probably from her helmet striking that door. If she hadn’t been wearing it? She’d be dead now.
More air pockets. But they weren’t as severe. And, every time, Alex’s arms tightened and held her snugly against him. He was like a huge, human safety belt around her. It felt strangely calming to have her arms around his thick torso, to feel him breathing so slowly; as if nothing were wrong. Operators’ blood pressures actually went DOWN during a firefight. And this time was a helluva sky flight.
Finally, she felt the Hawk begin to descend. She lifted her head.
“Are we there?”
“Yes, ma’am, this Night Stalker luxury flight is at the GPS point where you will be meeting an Army Special Forces team. And, if I don’t miss my guess, I see their chem-light about a hundred yards out from where we’re landin’.”
Alex eased his arms from around Lauren and straightened his legs. He helped her scoot down on the deck and turn around, her back to the bulkhead and facing the door. She felt wobbly to him. And there wasn’t much he could say or do until they were on the ground. He bet the ground had never looked so good to Lauren as it did right now.
The Hawk landed, the engines idling, the blades turning slower. The air crew chief unlocked and opened the sliding door. Heavy, humid air rushed in. As Lauren took off her helmet and set it on the deck, she moved to the cockpit. Balancing herself on her knees, a hand on the back of each seat, she offered the pilots her gloved right hand. It was something operators did whenever they could. The Texas Captain in the right seat turned and grinned up at her. He shook her hand, gave her two patches, and nodded. She smiled back. Lauren shook the copilot’s hand as well. These men and women risked their lives in flying conditions that would scare most anyone else away. But not them. As far as she was concerned, Night Stalker pilots had balls the size of the state of Texas. That was saying something! She was sure the captain would appreciate her thoughts.
