Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Is she… are they… Oh, God,” Diane whispered. “Get me a narrow-field, real-time image!” Paula ordered. She keyed her radio. “Hara, standby. Close the roads. No one in or out. Call in the backup units and position them on the shore and the perimeter.”

Blair realized she was still gripping Paula’s shoulders and forced herself to let go. She couldn’t move her eyes from the screen in front of her. She stared at the dark circle, willing an image to appear.

“Cam’s boat,” Blair asked hoarsely. “Cam’s boat should still be there, shouldn’t it? Paula?”

For the first time in her life, Paula ignored the first daughter. Renée was on the boat that had suddenly disappeared. The thought sent a momentary surge of panic through her and she went completely blank. Then, as if changing a channel in her mind, picture after picture snapped into view and came sharply into focus. Beirut, the Cole, the World Trade Center, the Pentagon. A field in Pennsylvania. Not one life. Not hundreds of lives. Thousands and more to come, she knew. And her part to play was here, today, and it would never be about one life again. Not even the life of the woman she loved.

“They’re there, somewhere, and we’ll find them,” Paula said steadily, because she had to believe it. “Mac, get me a picture of what’s going on out there and an open line to Renée Savard.”

“Yes ma’am,” Mac said, his voice rough with strain. “I’ll do that.”

“There’s debris in the water,” Savard shouted over the roar of the engine.

Cam leaned over the railing, narrowing her eyes against the icy spray and staring at the shiny black surface of the water. “Who’s got the wheel?”

“Donaldson. I need to be out here.” Savard raised the radio cradled in her hand. “I’ll direct him.”

Cam didn’t argue. She doubted she could get Savard to go back inside, and she didn’t have the time or inclination to persuade her. One hundred feet in front of them a geyser of flame spouted into the air, the engine fuel from Valerie’s and Henry’s boats burning. She should have expected something like this. Matheson would be a fool to leave a weak link like Henry alive, and Matheson was no fool. Henry had underestimated him, and so had she. She would not let Valerie pay for her miscalculation. She kicked off her shoes, shrugged out of her holster, pulled her badge off her belt, and pushed everything into a bench locker.

“You can’t… the water is 40 degrees—Commander?”

“Tell Donaldson to head for the flames and to get all the lights focused off the bow. Move ahead slowly. Christ, we don’t want to hit her.”

“Commander—”

“She’s in the goddamn water, Renée, and I’m going to get her out.”

Savard shouted orders into the two-way. As the boat corrected course, Cam flung her head back, furiously trying to clear her vision. Oily smoke roiled from the flaming hulls, obscuring the surface of the water. The boats were no longer tethered to one another and huge sections wallowed in the waves. Burning fragments the size of refrigerators drifted as they slowly sank.

“There!” Savard pointed off to their right. “The dinghy!”

Cam jerked around and followed Savard’s arm. A capsized inflatable rubber dinghy bobbed on the water.

“The explosion probably upended it,” Savard cursed.

Cam stepped up onto the railing and dove into the water.

“I’m getting something now, Chief,” Mac said urgently as he continued to rapidly type. “It’ll just take a second to redirect the satellite focus.”

“Get me in as tight as you can.” Paula turned at a sound behind them. Hara stood in the doorway. “All clear?”

“Yes ma’am. Everything is quiet.” She glanced toward the monitors but said nothing.

“Run status checks every five with the team leaders,” Paula directed.

“Yes ma’am. I’ll take point on the shore.”

“Good.” Paula bent forward, peering at the monitor as if that would make the fuzzy images clearer. Without warning, the screen cleared and a sharp black-and-white image of a burning boat came into view.

Blair caught her breath, momentarily disoriented by the eerie sensation that she was watching news footage, the kind of images that were ubiquitous and somehow mind-numbing. But she felt anything but numb. Her nerve endings burned, and it felt as if her entire body were twitching. A red haze of fury and panic threatened to skew her vision, and she had to blink to focus.

“Can you tell whose boat it is?” she asked.

“Not yet,” Mac answered. “We’ll have a slightly wider field in just…there, there’s another vessel.” His voice drifted off as a partially submerged, smoking boat came into view. “We’ve got at least two vessels hit.” He touched his ear and frowned. “It’s Tanner requesting permission to begin search and rescue.”

Stark shook her head. “No. We don’t know that whoever sent the first missile doesn’t have another one ready to go. The commander’s boat is out there somewhere. Until we contact her, we keep this locked down. Tell Tanner to maintain her position. She is not to pursue any unknown vessel.”

Mac relayed the order.

“They might need help, Paula,” Blair urged. “What about the Coast Guard?”

“No. This is a Homeland Security operation. We don’t involve anyone else.”

“What if Cam’s boat was hit too?”

“If we confirm that,” Paula said, “I’ll send a team out from here.”

“How long can they last out there, if they’re in the water?” Diane asked.

Paula didn’t answer. Instead she said, “Find them for me, Mac.”

Cam didn’t think she’d ever been so cold. It was the kind of cold that went so deep it was an ache inside of her. She didn’t think about the pain but just swam arm over arm in the direction where she’d seen the dinghy. Valerie had been in it, she knew that she’d been in it. Henry was dead. She’d ordered him shot. Valerie was the only one who could have launched the dinghy.

Her clothes were sheets of ice dragging her down. Her arms and legs were heavy. It was hard to move. So much smoke. Black acrid stinging smoke that singed her already swollen throat and clouded her eyes with tears and salt. Cold.

Her hand struck an object and she tried to grab it, but it floated away. She rubbed her face against her frozen sleeve. The dinghy. A wave crashed over her head and she went under. It was a relief to be out of the smoke. Her throat felt momentarily soothed until she reflexively took a breath and water flooded her lungs. She gagged, vomited, then clawed her way to the surface. She broke through and sucked in a lungful of tainted air. Coughing, she tried to swim and managed only to keep her head above water. Then she saw it again. The dinghy. From somewhere deep inside, she found another ounce of energy. Valerie was there, she knew she was there. Valerie had launched the dinghy.

Cam pushed herself toward it. She had sent Valerie out here alone. She would not let her die alone. She found the nylon rope that circled the dinghy and tried to hold on to it with frozen fingers. When it popped away from her she gave up trying and sluggishly circled it, her muscles slowly turning to lead.

For an instant, she thought she imagined the white form floating next to the dinghy. When she reached out, her fingers were too stiff to grasp the ghostlike figure. Closer now, she could make out Valerie’s wrist wedged underneath the encircling rope on the rubber life raft. She had tethered herself to it somehow.

“Valerie,” Cam croaked. She got a mouthful of water and spat it out angrily. “Valerie!”

Cam struggled to release Valerie’s wrist from the twisted lines. The instant Valerie’s arm slid free, she started to sink beneath the surface. Cam couldn’t grip her clothing, but she managed to get an arm around her waist and pulled her against her body.

“Valerie, it’s Cam. Swim. You have to swim.”

Cam couldn’t tell if she was breathing or not, and for a fraction of a second she felt the way she had when Blair had been exposed to a potentially deadly toxin. The floodgates she kept securely locked against loss and despair broke open and the pain was so crippling she was momentarily paralyzed. They went under together, Valerie clasped in Cam’s arms.

“Command One, do you read,” Felicia’s voice filled the room.

“Felicia,” Mac cried. “Status. Status report. Are you—”

“… engaged in search and rescue. Any sign of incoming?”

“Negative.” Mac switched channels and the original wide-angle view came into focus. “Advise evacuate area as soon as possible.”

“Roger, as soon as rescue is complete. Do you have visual?”

Mac turned to Paula who was staring at the speakers as if she were trying to see through them to Felicia and the others.

“Felicia, this is Stark. We have debris from two vessels…no survivors identified.”

“Thermal scans?” Felicia asked sharply.

“Nothing,” Mac said, “but if Valerie’s in the water, she’s probably too cold already.”

“We have two in the water. Do you read? Two.”

“Who?” Paula inquired urgently.

Blair didn’t need to hear the answer. She already knew.

Cam didn’t have the energy to fight. The cold in her bones had dissipated, and so had the pain. Her body was strangely heavy, yet weightless at the same time. She couldn’t see, but the sharp smoky sting in the air was gone. She wasn’t in the air. She was underwater.

She was underwater, and Valerie was with her. Valerie wasn’t moving. What had Blair said to her? She’d made her promise something. Cam was so tired and it was so hard to think.

Promise me. Promise me you won’t sacrifice yourself for her.

That’s right. She had promised Blair. Promised her not to die for Valerie.

A surge of adrenaline shot through Cam, electrifying her. She’d promised not to die for Valerie, but she hadn’t promised to let her die. What had she said? No one was going to die. She tightened her grip on Valerie and kicked. The surface seemed very far away.

And then she felt it—Valerie was kicking too. Neither one of them was going to give up without a fight.

“Mac’s got a thermal body pattern in the water,” Felicia announced, hurrying from the cabin to join Savard on deck.

Renée strained to see through the smoke, arcing the floodlights back and forth. “Over there—two in the water, twenty yards off to the right. Help me lower the life raft.”

“I’m coming with you. Donaldson can handle the boat.”

Renée nodded and between the two of them they unlashed the life raft from its deck moorings, disengaged the lock on the pulley, and swung the small boat out over the water. Felicia hit the switch for the motor and as the inflatable raft lowered automatically, she grabbed two PFDs from a nearby locker. She tossed one to Renée and pulled hers on.

“There are two more clipped inside the raft for them.” Felicia swung her leg up and over the railing. “Let’s get them the hell out of the water.”

“Great idea,” Renée shouted and followed her over the side and down the ladder.

Felicia started the motor and propelled the boat toward the area of the last sighting. “Do you have them?”

“No!” Renée leaned as far over the front of the raft as she dared, gripping the handholds. “Head further to your right. There… wait. Yes! There!”

“Be careful,” Felicia shouted as Renée braced her legs against the side of the raft, released the handholds, and leaned over the side. Felicia set the motor to idle and clambered forward, joining Renée. Together, they grabbed for Cam, whose head and shoulders were just visible above the water next to the raft. Even in the flickering red light from the scattered fires still burning amongst the debris, her face looked deathly pale.

“Commander,” Renée shouted as she reached down with both arms. “Can you grab on to me?”

“No,” Cam gasped. She pushed Valerie forward. “Take her first.”

Felicia and Renée grasped Valerie’s inert body under the arms and pulled her into the raft. She wasn’t moving and appeared unresponsive. When Renée looked back into the water she saw Cam go under. She dove in, grabbed Cam around the waist and pulled her back to the surface. Shaking water from her eyes, she saw Felicia leaning down and pushed Cam into her arms. Then she fumbled for the rope around the edge of the raft and finally managed to hold onto it. Together she and Felicia pushed and pulled Cam into the raft. Finally, Felicia grabbed Renée’s arm and Renée managed to lever herself up and onto the floor of the life raft.

“Commander,” Renée gasped. Cam lay curled up against the opposite side of the raft. Valerie was stretched out between them.

“The commander’s conscious, but I don’t think Valerie’s breathing,” Felicia shouted, hurrying back to rev the engine. “We need to get them to the boat.”

Renée scarcely noticed as the small, crowded raft tossed and spun from crest to trough and back up again. Kneeling beside Valerie, she opened her blouse and pressed an ear to Valerie’s breast. She heard a distant heartbeat but she couldn’t detect any movement of her chest. Cupping Valerie’s chin, she tilted her head back, covered her nose with her opposite hand, and sealed her mouth to Valerie’s. As she blew into her lungs, all she could think was that Valerie was cold. Cold as ice. Cold as death.

“Come on, Valerie. Come on.” Renée blew another breath. “Breathe. Goddamn it. Breathe.” She felt the barest flicker as Valerie’s chest rose beneath her hand and she hurriedly pressed her cheek to Valerie’s breast again. This time the heartbeat was slow and even fainter than before. Far slower than it should be. Frantically, she yelled over her shoulder, “She’s breathing, but I’m not sure for how long. Hurry up or we’re going to lose her!”

“This is Staff Sergeant Donaldson reporting,” Donaldson’s voice announced through the speakers.

Paula straightened up abruptly. “Where is everyone else?”

“The agents are engaged with resuscitation efforts, ma’am. I have the conn, and we are returning to base.”

“Status?” Paula snapped.

“Two casualties.”

“Put that launch right up on the beach below our location. Do you copy?”

“Loud and clear.”

Paula signaled to Mac as she spoke and he nodded, murmuring instructions into his radio. “Donaldson—ETA?”

“Ten minutes.”

“How badly are they hurt?” Blair said, standing so close to Stark she could hear her rapid breathing. “Are they burned?” Behind her, she heard Diane groan softly.

“What’s their condition?” Paula asked.

“Major hypothermia. That’s all I can tell you, ma’am.”

“Roger that. Bring them home, Donaldson.”

“Yes ma’am. I’ll be pleased to do that.”

As Paula instructed Mac to call the marina for additional resuscitation equipment, Blair grabbed Diane’s arm and dragged her toward the door. “Come on. We need to get fires going in the bedrooms and fill the bathtubs. We’re going to have to get them warmed up.”

“Shouldn’t we call for an ambulance or something?” Diane asked, hurrying along beside Blair.

“No time,” Blair said, taking the stairs to the second floor on the run. “The most critical thing for an exposure victim is to get them warm as quickly as possible.” Blair stopped outside Diane’s bedroom. “Are you okay?”

Diane stared at her as if she were insane. “This is a nightmare and I keep praying I’ll wake up. But until I do, I’ll do anything I have to. I’m not going to let her die.”

“Don’t worry,” Blair said grimly. “No one is dying tonight.”

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 600