Radclyffe - Oath of Honor

Evyn smiled crookedly. “Which one?”

“The president. The only one.”

“He’s fine.” Evyn’s mouth twisted and a shadow passed over her face—storm clouds in a summer sky. “How are you?”

“Left shoulder’s getting a workout, but it’s just banged up some. Swallowed a little water, feels like. I’m okay.”

The radio crackled. Cord said, “Lower the Stokes.”

Wes twisted her head, felt a restraint on her neck. “You can take this collar off. I’m fine.”

“You are,” Evyn said, her bloodless lips tinged with blue. “But we’re going to transport you to the hospital—check you out.”

“No way,” Wes said, her voice stronger already. “I never lost consciousness. There’s nothing they’re going to find in the ER that I can’t tell you right now—my shoulder is contused and I’m cold. Get me warm and I’ll be fine.”

“You’re not in charge here, Dr. Masters,” Evyn said sharply. She shivered violently and her eyes glazed before she blinked them back into focus.

“I’m the senior medical officer,” Wes said. “And you’re verging on hypothermia. Gary—she needs to get out of that wetsuit and get warmed up.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gary said. “Evyn, you heard the captain. Get below and strip down. The extra thermals are in the bulkhead.”

“Don’t pull rank on me, Wes,” Evyn said.

With her good hand, Wes unsnapped the buckle holding the band across her chest and pushed up until she was sitting in the litter. “I wouldn’t need to if you listened to reason.” Her head swirled, but she fought down a wave of nausea. Her shoulder ached, but sensation had returned to her fingers and her arm was moving again. Stiff and sore, but mobile. “I’ve had worse playing rugby.”

“That’s not in your personnel file.”

Wes grinned. “Not everything is in there, don’t you know that?”

Cord’s voice cut through the rush of wind. “Let’s finish this pissing contest onshore. Can I release the chopper?”

“Yes,” Wes said, “as soon as the president is transferred up.”

“You’re going too,” Evyn said.

“If I needed to go—which I don’t—we’d wait for another chopper. POTUS is the priority. We do this by the book.”

“The exercise is over .”

“I’m not grandstanding, Evyn,” Wes said quietly, holding Evyn’s gaze, letting Evyn see for herself she was okay and thinking rationally. “I wouldn’t risk it if I thought there was a bigger problem, but I want to end this mission on my feet.”

The glacial blue of Evyn’s eyes softened and she nodded to Cord. “Send up the president’s litter.” She crouched by Wes, her face all Wes could see. “But when we get back to land, I want to check you over myself.”

“Deal.” Wes pulled the thermal blanket they’d placed over her more tightly around her shoulders. “Go get out of that suit.”

Evyn grinned weakly. “No argument.”

Wes waited until Evyn disappeared down the hatch before saying to Gary, “Make sure she gets something hot into her. She expended a lot of energy out there.”

Gary handed her a steaming thermos. “Tea. I’ll get hers next.”

“Thanks.” Wes sipped the blessedly hot liquid and closed her eyes. The mission had very nearly been derailed by the accident, and when they wrote up the report, they’d have to explain exactly how that had happened—and who, if anyone, was responsible.

*

“Showers are down the hall on the right,” Cord said as the group hurried into the rescue station. She waved Jeff and Gary on and turned to Evyn and Wes. “The first order of business is for the two of you to get warmed up.”

“Go ahead,” Evyn said to Wes. “You feel steady enough?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Some heat and dry clothes and I’ll be good to go. You need to hit the showers too, Agent Daniels.”

“Gary went to get our gear from the car—I’ll get it and be there in a second.”

“All right. Thanks.” Wes left quickly and Evyn squelched the urge to follow immediately.

The distance in Wes’s voice was nearly as chilling as the water had been. Evyn couldn’t tell if Wes’s aloof reserve hid anger, pain, or criticism, but the wintery expression in Wes’s eyes left her feeling abandoned. The stab of loneliness was as frightening as it was unexpected.

“You okay?” Cord said softly.

“What?” Evyn focused on Cord, read her concern. “Yeah. You weren’t kidding about riptides. Freaking strong, and freaking cold.”

“The weather’s changing fast. We’re in for a blow. Maritime reports say we’re looking at snow up and down the coast.”

“The water sure felt like it dropped twenty degrees.”

“In some parts of the current, it probably had—cold water pulled up to the surface by changes in the wind and air pressure.” Cord grimaced. “I’m really sorry I didn’t call off the exercise earlier.”

“Couldn’t be anticipated—or helped,” Evyn said, listening for the distant sound of the shower running. She really wanted to go back and check on Wes. She wasn’t convinced Wes was as steady as she claimed. When she’d finally located her, the powerful current had been pulling Wes hard and fast out to sea. Wes had been spinning, sinking, and she hadn’t been struggling. For a sickening, heart-stopping second, she’d thought she was too late. She couldn’t remember ever being so terrified.

“You want me to get your gear?” Cord asked. “You’re shivering.”

“No.” Evyn ignored the chill spreading along her bones. “As soon as I check with Gary, I’ll shower.”

Cord nodded. “I’ll be in my office.”

“Thanks, Cord.” Evyn turned away, pretending she hadn’t seen the questions, or the concern, in Cord’s eyes. They’d gotten to be friends over the years since she’d first met Cord during her water-rescue certification. Back then, there’d been a tiny spark of interest, but time and distance had made friendship more feasible, and she was glad to have avoided the awkwardness that would have cropped up when they had to work together. Besides, a friendship with no complications was worth a lot more than a hot and heavy—and short-lived—affair. That’s exactly what she should be looking for with Wes—a sound professional friendship, but she couldn’t seem to get her head around that. When she’d seen Wes disappear into the water, the only thing she’d thought about was getting her to safety. She hadn’t thought about the mission or protocol or the fact that they were in the middle of an exercise to rescue the president. None of that had mattered, and that was a big problem.

As if reading her thoughts, Gary walked up, set two gear bags beside her, and said, “Stop beating yourself up. What happened out there was an accident. You okay?”

“I’m okay.” Evyn leaned against the wall inside the entrance to the rescue station. “Listen, you should get out of here if you’re going to catch the flight home.”

“What about you?”

“I’m going to be here a while. I need to check Wes over, and she needs to at least get some sleep before she flies. I’ll rebook us on a flight out in the morning.”

“You want me to stay?”

“You don’t need to. Your wife will be happy if you make it home tonight, and you’ll score with her for the next time you can’t get home.”

Gary smiled. “Damn sensitive of you…and I appreciate it.” He paused. “You did right out there, Evyn—start to finish. Stop second-guessing yourself.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know, Gary. I wasn’t thinking about anything at all—I just reacted. If I’d waited just a minute, she might have come right back up to the surface, Cord would’ve thrown her a lifeline, and we could’ve hauled her in. Then you and I could have gotten the president into the chopper, just the way it reads in the rulebook. Instead, I went over the side without a thought to POTUS.”