A Bitter Man (Special Forces: Operation Alpha), page 18
Patch has already spread a huge map out on the table in the middle of the room. “Okay. I want Ghost, Reboot, or Bulldog with each of three teams. Ghost, you’re with Paddy and Ethan. Reboot, you take Priest and Drew. Bulldog, you take me and Rocky. Hollywood and Bear, you’re together on the ground along the road. Everybody else is going to branch out. Ghost, your team goes here.” Patch points to a mark on the map, and Ghost nods. Then he points to another spot. “Reboot, you guys here. And Bulldog,” he says and points to yet another spot. “You guys go there. Hollywood, Bear, I want you to start at the end of the drive and walk toward town. Scrutinize, scrutinize, scrutinize. One thing that doesn’t look right and you stop and investigate. Everybody on twenty-two alpha. Reboot, Ghost, take the Jeeps. We’ll take one of the SUVs. Constant contact. You see something, you say something. Here we go, guys. Let’s find her and bring her back.” Every man in the room, even Bulldog, nods and heads out.
Bear and I walk in silence toward the road. I’m about to burst when I finally ask him, “Do you think he sent me out there because he doesn’t trust me to be objective as we’re searching?”
Bear shakes his big head. “No. I think he sent you out here with me because he knows both of us will stare at every blade of grass, every rock, every stick, every tree, hoping to find something. He knows we won’t miss a thing.”
That doesn’t make me feel a bit better, but I swallow hard as I think about it. Then I ask, “But why you?”
He doesn’t even look up at me when he says, “Because I love Miss Audrey. She’s sweet and kind and pretty, and she’s been really nice to me. She’s like a little sister to me.” To my surprise, his voice is breaking. “Nobody’s been nice to me until I came here, and she’s been really nice to me. I don’t have a lot of friends. I really can’t spare one.”
A lump the size of a grapefruit strangles my throat. Bear, the one person around here who never really talks and doesn’t seem like he’s really engaged has made a friend, one he doesn’t want to lose. When I finally get my emotions under control, I say, “Okay, when we get out here to the road, we need to start calling her name.”
“Agreed.”
We hit the pavement and start to call out. From time to time, one of us will wander off the edge, look down an embankment or in the trees, then step back up to the edge of the road and keep going. We walk and walk, but we don’t see or hear anything, so we just keep calling her name and listening.
We’ve been out there for two hours, walking along, seeing nothing, when I see the KSP heli hovering a mile away and hear their radio transmission. “This is KSP Air Unit Five. SAR team directly below us, report. Over.”
“KSP Air Unit Five, this is App STAR Team Two. Over.” That’s Reboot’s voice I hear.
“App STAR Team Two, need you to proceed directly west of your location about nine-tenths of a mile, over.”
“Copy that, KSP Air Unit Five. App STAR Team Two responding. Will report back. Over.”
“Where are they?” Bear asks, staring at the helicopter.
“Their entry point was about a mile from here.” I’ve already picked up the pace, and I’m slow-jogging that direction. “We’re closest. The sooner we rendezvous, the better.” We’re still moving along at a pretty good clip when I pull up my radio. “KSP Air Unit Five, this is App STAR ground detachment. We’re approaching Team Two’s entry point. Advise how to proceed, over.”
“App STAR detachment, there’s something under the bridge directly ahead of you. Please advise, over.”
“Roger that, KSP Air Unit Five. Over.” I’m running as fast as I can go, and I can hear Bear’s footfalls right behind me. The bridge is in sight, and I stop when I get there, but I see nothing. “KSP Air Unit Five, do you see us? Over.”
“Roger that, App STAR detachment. Go down the right descending bank. Approximately thirty feet down. There’s something down there. Over.”
The grass is soaking wet, and it’s slippery as hell, but I head that direction. “Be careful!” I hear Bear yell at me, but I don’t give a shit. If there’s something under there, I need to know …
My feet fly out from under me and I slide the entire thirty-three feet down the embankment, twisting and grabbing for grass the whole way down. When I finally land, it’s in about a foot and a half of creek water on my back, but I manage to sit up and look around.
And there she is.
“App STAR! This is ground detachment. We’ve got her! Car is lodged under Troublesome Creek Bridge, approximately thirty feet down, upside down. Over.”
“Roger that, ground detachment. Status, over.”
“App STAR, trying to assess now.”
There’s no movement and no sound, and it’s impossible to tell what’s going on. I hear movement all around me, and in the next second, Bear comes into view. “She okay?”
“I can’t tell anything. I’ve got to―”
“Ground detachment, this is App STAR Unit Two. We’re closing on you. Be advised, do not try to move subject until we get there. Repeat, do not try to move subject until we get there.”
“Roger that, Unit Two,” I hear Bear respond. “Can you get down there in the water and creep in through that window?” he asks me as I crouch down.
Flat on my belly, I stick my head through the window, but I can still barely see―until a bright light illuminates the car’s interior, and I know Bear’s dragged out his flood lamp. And there she is, almost folded in half, her chest very nearly against the steering wheel. “Audrey? Baby, it’s Porter. Can you hear me? Sweetie, please,” I hear myself pleading, “please answer me. Audrey?”
Her mouth opens, but her eyes don’t. “Dead.”
“No. You’re not dead. I’m right here. Audrey, please, open your eyes. Babe, open them. Please open them.” I won’t be able to see anything in the way of pupil reactivity until she does, but she won’t.
“Taylor.”
“Honey, Taylor’s at home with Penny. He’s fine. You’re gonna be fine. Let me get you out of here and―”
“Don’t do it,” Bear cautions.
There’s more scrambling, and I hear another voice. “Hollywood, you need to back out of there. Let me get in there and assess her.”
I press myself out of the space to find Reboot standing there, go-bag in hand. Before I can speak, he’s down on his belly, sliding into the broken window. “Audrey, it’s Reboot, honey. I need you to talk to me. Can you hear me?”
“Hurts.”
“What hurts, hon?”
“Legs. My legs hurt. Shoulder.”
I can see him moving around, and I know what he’s doing. “App STAR, this is Unit Two medic. We’ve got a strong pulse, unable to take pressure reading because of positioning. Dash is crushed. We need a padded backboard and extraction tools ASAP. Over.”
“Roger that, Unit Two. This is Unit One. Contacting Knott County Fire. Switching to sixteen. Over.”
Even though I want to sound strong and positive, I can’t. Not yet. “Is she okay?”
“Hard to tell, but we’re going to find out pretty quickly.” Reboot’s rummaging around in his go-bag. “Audrey, honey, open your mouth. This is gelled water. I’m going to open the packet and put the end in your mouth. You need to try to close your mouth and swallow it. I know it’s hard, but please, we need to do this, okay?” My heart is pounding out of control until I finally hear him say, “Thatta girl. You’ve got it. You’ll feel better in just a minute. You need some fluids. Let’s get some more in you. Good girl.”
A croak of a voice says, “Porter?”
“I’m right here, baby. Let Reboot help you. Do what he says.”
There’s more movement. “You guys okay?” The voice is sort of familiar, and then I realize it’s Drew.
“Yeah, trying to get some fluids into her. Where the hell is that equipment?” Reboot asks, but I can hear the sirens in the distance.
“They’re coming,” I assure him.
“There’s no sign of fuel leaking. No imminent danger there,” Drew says, moving around the car, assessing everything he sees. “I’d say she slid down here and the rain perked the grass up. By the time we came through here, it was standing like it always does. No sign of anything wrong.”
“I can see that happening,” Bear says from somewhere near me, but all I’m really interested in is Audrey and what’s going on with her.
His words have no sooner evaporated than the big first responder truck roars into sight. “Whadda we got?” I hear Chief Arlen Ramage ask.
“Vehicle’s upside down and tucked under the edge of the bridge. Occupant is suspended by her seatbelt. Her legs are trapped under the dash. Best guess, remove the door, but you’ll probably need some bracing to keep the car from further collapsing onto its roof. It’s already partially crushed.”
As soon as the wrecker pulls up, I’m a little miffed that Marvin Ramage has shown up like an ambulance chaser. That lasts for a whole ten seconds before I realize why he’s there. “Hey, got that air jack?” Arlen asks.
Marvin nods at his brother. “I do.”
“Gonna need to put it in through the passenger-side window and inflate it. That’ll keep the weight of the car from crushing down on the roof.”
“Got it.” I watch him run for the truck. Priest is following him, and the two of them carry the unit down. “You got the extrication tools?” he asks Chief Ramage as he unfurls the airbag and starts moving it into place with Priest’s help.
“Roger that. Cooter,” he yells at a younger guy standing by the rig, “grab the HRT and all its components.”
“Got that, chief.” He and another guy, closer to middle age, start dragging equipment from the back of the truck.
“Okay, we can’t cut the belt until we get the dash off her or it’ll snap her legs when her weight hits them,” Drew instructs.
“We need that padded backboard,” Reboot orders.
“Roger that. Got it,” Arlen responds. “Okay, Marvin, let ’er rip.”
The growl of the huge air compressor fills our surroundings, and it’s almost deafening. I hear Audrey say something and Reboot answers her. “It’s just the compressor, honey. We’re gonna get you out of here safely, okay? Just trust us. Need more water? Okay, it can wait. Just hang on a couple more minutes.”
I watch in amazement as the car seems to puff upward, and I hear Audrey cry out. “What’s wrong?” I all but shriek.
“She’s just scared, Hollywood. It’s okay, sweetie. We’ve gotcha,” Reboot tells her.
“You guys can get started,” Marvin barks toward Arlen. From my peripheral vision, I can see the ambulance pull up, and I know everything is in place.
“Okay, boys, let’s figure out what we need to do and do it. Door comes off first. Power that thing up.” I watch as all the hoses and cords they’ve been dragging around are plugged in and connected, and the next thing I know, I can hear the pump moving the hydraulic fluid to the tool.
It’s amazing, really. That thing just bites through the metal and shears off the column between the doors. Once that’s done, they cut the front column at the windshield and chew through the door hinges, and the next thing I know, the whole door is lying in the water at their feet. “I need two men in here to hold her up while they open this dash. Hollywood, Bear, you’re up,” Drew orders. I remember when the California Bureau of Investigations and the California Highway Patrol came to arrest me that day, and I didn’t think I’d ever want to see another cop as long as I lived, but right now, I’m thankful for the years Drew spent with the VSP. His experience is invaluable in this moment.
I shimmy in as close as I can get to the airbag lift, and Bear slides in on the other side of her. “You’re going to have to exert maximum force to hold her up from there, because that’s where we’re opening the dash, and she’s going to tumble if you’re not holding her,” Arlen says, staring at Bear.
“You don’t worry about me. I’ve got her. Just get her free from here,” the giant growls.
“You got it. Hang on, girly. You’re about to come out of there.” I watch as they position the tool, and I’m unsure as to what they’re going to do, but I really don’t care as long as they get her out of here. I’ve braced myself to hold her, and Bear’s doing the same.
Audrey lets out a whispered whine. “I’ll never see him again.”
“Who, baby? Who won’t you never see again?”
“Porter. I’ll never see him again. He hates me.”
“Babe, it’s me. It’s Porter. I don’t hate you. I love you, Audrey. Give them a minute. We’ll get you out of here.”
“I don’t know what’s happening. What’s going on? Why does my head hurt?”
“Just hang on, Audrey. We’re working on it,” Bear croons to her. “They’re almost done.”
I hear Cooter―seriously, that’s what they call him?―say, “One … more … There!”
“OWWWW!” Audrey screams.
“Blood flowing back into her legs. Got hold of her?” Arlen asks.
“Yep!” Bear answers through gritted teeth. I can’t talk. It’s taking all my strength to hold her in place.
“We need that backboard in place!” Arlen yells, and it appears out of nowhere, scooted in between Bear and me, probably by Reboot or Drew, and they keep pushing it until it’s almost past her. That’s when I notice it’s got a rope attached to it. “I’m gonna cut this belt. When I do, you’ve got to let her down slowly. Very slowly. Ready?”
“Ready,” I grunt.
“Three, two, one …”
It takes all of my strength and willpower, but Bear and I start to let her down very, very slowly. As soon as her head touches the backboard, somebody starts to pull the rope, and as we let her down and unfold her, it keeps inching forward like a conveyor belt, slowly letting her stretch out until she’s flat on the backboard. Then they slide it out as quickly as they can and in a few seconds, she’s in the air and light, squinting, one arm rising to fall across her eyes and protect them from the sudden brightness. “Ohhhh …”
“It’s okay, babe. You’re out.”
“Let’s get her loaded up and on the way to the hospital.” I watch as Reboot and Ghost lift her, Bulldog following them closely, until they get her up the embankment and the EMTs take over. In seconds, she’s loaded into the bus and they drive away. All I can do is sit on a rock by the creek and watch, exhausted and terrified.
But someone crouches down beside me, and I realize Paddy’s on one side and Patch is on the other. They’ve all been there the whole time and I didn’t even notice them. “Breathe, Hollywood,” I hear Patch murmur. “It’s okay. She’s gonna be fine.”
All that I can make come from my lips is, “Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god. I almost lost her. Oh, god.”
A deep, hot voice says, “I heard you tell her you love her.”
Bear. He heard me. “Yeah. I do.”
“Then I’d suggest you get your ass to the hospital and tell her that when she’s lucid enough to know what the fuck you’re saying, because I’m pretty sure she loves you too.”
I look around. Standing there are Paddy, Patch, Bear, Priest, Ethan, Rocky, and Drew. Seven men. Three more up topside who had my back, who had Audrey’s back. I’m not alone anymore. Stewing and brewing over the bullshit from my past almost cost me a relationship that I now know means more than anything else to me. I almost blew it. And I know what I have to do.
But first, I’ve got to get to that hospital. Somebody there needs to hear me say the three most important words in the world.
And this time, I won’t be afraid when I say them because, for the first time in my life, I really know what they mean.
CHAPTER 11
Audrey
There’s a really bright light in my eyes, and I’m not sure what’s going on. And something weird on my tongue. Kinda slickery. I’m not sure what that is. There’s all kinds of talking going on around me, but I don’t know what they’re saying. Is this Heaven? I don’t think so. If it is, it’s cold in Heaven, and I always thought it would be more like Florida.
Are they saying my name? “Audrey Sinclair. Age twenty-nine. Height, five feet, six inches. Weight, approximately one fifteen. Caucasian. Pulse, eighty-six. Blood pressure, one oh eight over sixty-seven. Pulse ox, ninety-eight. Line inserted and fluids administered en route. Pupils reactive. No obvious head trauma. Bruising on the left shoulder and across ribcage as well as pelvic region. Extremities responded to stimuli with no crushing injuries noted. Victim was suspended upside down by her seat belt for almost twenty-four hours, so appropriate testing may be necessary for neurological functions.”
“Was she oriented times three?”
“Verbally non-responsive except for some mumbling. I’m not sure she realizes where she is or what happened.”
“Noted.” There’s a quiet second before I hear a loud voice say, “Mrs. Sinclair? Mrs. Sinclair, can you hear me? Mrs. Sinclair, please open your eyes if you can hear me.”
What the fuck. “I’m dead.”
“No, ma’am. You’re not dead. You’re at Whitesburg ARH. I’m Dr. Lincoln and I’m in charge of your care here. Can you tell me your name?”
“Audrey Sinclair.”
“And Audrey, how old are you?”
“I’m almost thirty.”
“Okay. And where do you live?”
“I live in Mallie at Iron Oak Farms.”
“And who’s the president of the United States?”
“Uhhh …” I can’t think. “I can’t remember his name … Is it still that orange guy?”
“No, ma’am.”
“I can’t remember. A woman?”
“No, but she could very well be.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, then I hear him say, “The disorientation could be because of the dehydration or the prolonged period upside down, but I want to play it safe. Notify anesthesiology. I want her sedated for the CT scan. I’ll sign the admission papers.”
“Yes, Dr. Lincoln.”
It’s quiet for a few more seconds, then he says, “And go out there and tell the gentleman that he can come in and be with her for a couple of minutes until radiology is ready for her.”
