Forget Me Not (Love in the Fleet) (34 page)

She uttered a silent prayer of thanks that Sky and Mikey had most likely escaped the helicopter. Knowing how much Sky had suffered from losing Daniel years ago, at least if they were dead, Sky could rest in peace knowing his co-pilot had not died strapped in his seat. Daisy had no doubt that Sky had done everything in his power to ensure Mikey had gotten out alive. It was a small comfort because she knew deep down in her bones they had probably not survived the elements—and she hadn’t even thought about sharks—but still, it was a small comfort. And Daisy would take all the comfort she could get right about now.

Each night the aircrews took Daisy and Belle back to sleep on board the
Villalobos
. She ate and then fell into her
rack
, as they called it, and forced herself to sleep. On the evening of the second full day, Captain Christensen called her via the ship’s satellite phone system. She was elated to hear from the Commodore until she understood the premise of his call. Her extremities tingled and she grabbed on to a nearby bulkhead when he explained the search operation would be terminated in twenty-four hours.

“The regional commander has already authorized more time and assets to the effort than the expert models predicted would be required to find survivors. At this point even my boss is feeling the heat for the cost involved, and more importantly, the assets need to get back to their counter Narco-Terrorism
mission. Ma’am…” he hesitated and cleared his throat before continuing. “I hope your participation has allowed you to work out some of your angst about being unable to help your husband, but you might need to prepare yourself for the distinct possibility that both pilots are presumed dead and buried at sea, as so many Naval veterans choose for their final resting place. And if that’s the case, ma’am, I know for a fact Sky would have died doing what he loved and probably wouldn’t have traded it for—”

“Thank you for your concerns, Captain. I appreciate them, but I still have twenty-four hours and I need to get a good night’s sleep so I’ll be prepared to search tomorrow.” Daisy paced in the tight confines of the
Villalobos
CO’s cabin. “But sir? Thank you for everything.”

She dropped into her rack from exhaustion, mulling over what the Commodore had just said. Jack had died doing what he loved, too. But he was still gone. And she was still alone. And if Sky had died too, she might think about joining a nunnery when she returned to Florida.

Did nuns need veterinarians? 

All of this played through her head on the third day when Petty Officer Giles lowered her and Belle via a rescue basket, borrowed from a Coast Guard cutter operating in the area. The basket enabled the two of them to travel up and down the rescue hoist cable together, making drop-offs and pick-ups quicker and more efficient. And with only two more hours of sunlight remaining before Sky and Mike were declared lost at sea and presumed dead, she was thankful for the precious minutes the device saved them.

Two-thirds of the way down the wire, Belle went berserk! Barking wildly and shaking her head to dislodge the T-shirt and earplugs,
she clawed at the side of the metal basket. Oblivious to the blowing sand from the rotorwash, Belle strained at her leash, barking as if her life depended on it.

Scrambling out of the basket and onto the beach, Daisy gave the “I’m okay” signal for the helo to move off shore. Belle dug at the sand in an attempt to run, continuing a cacophony of barking that slipped into howling. Daisy tried to hold on to the leash while removing the T-shirt from Belle’s head, but found herself being dragged behind. Was it possible? Did Belle smell them? Blood pounded in Daisy’s temples. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. She stopped, frozen, and let go.

She let go of Belle.

She let go of her anxiety.

She let go of her pain and her fear.

She let go of everything.

She knew.

They were here.

Please, God, let them be alive.

Belle dashed into the jungle. Her bark changed. It was high and shrill and not her usual “found”
bark. Daisy’s knees threatened to buckle. She forgot how to breathe. Were they dead? She grabbed on to a sapling, then pulled herself forward, stumbling toward Belle’s barks.

Daisy stopped in her tracks. She needed to follow instructions. Heart pounding, hand shaking, she unzipped a pocket in the flight suit and found the survival whistle she’d been given. Designed to operate when soaking wet, it apparently worked when full of sand too. She spit the grit from her mouth, then blew with all her might. The helo now gone, she froze and listened.

Was that noise another whistle or her own ears ringing from the helicopter ride? She blew the whistle again. There it was. Wedged between Belle’s barks in the distance. The sweetest sound in the entire world. Not a mechanical emergency whistle, but a shrill, high-pitched one.

The kind a man makes when he puts two fingers in his mouth and blows.

Her heart slammed in her chest as she tore through the jungle. Flashes of Lieutenant Sky
whistling for quiet at the Boys and Girls Club screamed in her head. She ripped branches out of her way, mindless of the ones that slapped her in the face. She brushed them aside like cobwebs in her quest to get to him.

Her lost Romeo.  

And there he was.

On the far side of the island. Propped against a tree near the rocky shoreline. Grinning
at
her with that signature smile emanating from a sunburned face. Relief washed over her and knocked her to her knees. He had one hand on the shoulder of a prostrate Mikey. O
h, God, please let Mikey be okay.
Sky’s other hand scratched the chin of a well-trained Belle, who sat in the found position, barking for Daisy.

She buried her face in her hands and wept. Then half-stumbled, half-crawled toward him, unable to get to her feet.

Belle howled for release from working dog status so she could slobber kisses on Sky’s face. Just as Daisy wanted to do. But instead, she screamed at him across the patch of underbrush as she found her footing.

“Goddamn you, Sky Crawford! You promised you’d always come back!” She strangled her hands and twisted and turned, trying to stifle the tears. “Shut up, Belle!” she screamed in frustration. Then indicating Mikey. “Is he…?”

“He’s okay.” Sky reached out to her, tears streaming down his cheeks now too. “Come here, baby.”

Daisy fell into Sky’s arms and sobbed against his chest. “Oh, my God, I was so worried.  So afraid I’d lost you.”

Sky stroked her hair, kissed her temple. “Oh, baby. Everything’s okay now. We’re gonna be all right. But my crew? Did they make it?”

She pulled away from him. “They’re all fine except for worrying about you. Do you know what a scare you gave us?” Daisy’s doctor sense kicked in and she touched his sunburned cheek, patted his shoulders, arms, chest. “Are you okay?” She reached toward Mikey, “Is he conscious?”

“We’ll be all right. But you got any water on you, sweetheart? We both need water, bad.”

Daisy’s hand flew to her forehead. “Of course you need water. I’m sorry.” She reached into the backpack and withdrew two water bottles. Sky uncapped one and sucked down the entire thing while Daisy lifted Mike’s head and carefully dribbled water into his mouth. “What’s wrong with him, Sky? How long has he been out?” But Mikey stirred, mumbled, and swallowed. Daisy exhaled a sigh of relief, checked his vitals, and continued to hydrate him while reaming out his senior pilot. “How could you do this to me? I had to close the clinic and come all the way down here so I could kick your sorry ass!”

Then she dissolved into tears again, laid Mike’s head down gently, and threw her arms around Sky’s neck, her sobs muffled in his torn flight suit.

“Oh, Sky, I’m sorry about everything. I was so afraid you’d been taken from me, and I’d never get to tell you how much I love you.” She wanted to stay in his embrace forever.

He stroked her back and mumbled in her hair. “I love you too, baby. And I’m sorry too. Don’t worry, we’ll work it out. It’s all going to be okay now.” He took her chin in his hand. “Listen, honey, you got a radio? That helo was music to my ears and I sure would like to get the hell out of Dodge sooner rather than later. We both need a doctor. I don’t suppose you got any morphine in that backpack?”

Daisy flew out of his arms and reached for her radio. “What was I thinking? Of course you need medical attention. And I haven’t even told them I found you.” Daisy pumped her arm and grinned at him. “With an hour to spare.”

Sky smiled back and slugged down more water, then shared the rest with Mikey.

Daisy fumbled with the radio and found the right button. “Proud Warrior Five-Seven-Niner, Rescue Dog One. Both pilots are here and they’re alive!”

Cheers erupted over the radio.
“Bravo Zulu, Rescue Dog One! Good work!

“Both need medical attention and water. Send as much water as you can. Sky is okay—”

“My leg is bad. I can’t walk on it.” Sky winced and pointed to his right leg. “Could be broken.”

“Broken? Are you serious? What happened?”

“Finish your reply, sweetheart. You’re doing fine.”

“Sky says his right leg might be broken. I haven’t checked it yet. And his co-pilot is...” she looked to Sky for confirmation. He nodded that she should proceed. “He’s in and out of consciousness.” Sky pointed to his own right shoulder, then patted his head. “Looks like his right shoulder is injured, and…maybe a concussion.” Sky nodded his head. “He’s going to need a litter. Send two if you can. Both have lots of cuts and abrasions, but all look superficial.”

“
We’re five minutes out. I’m going to drop Petty Officer Giles with a Med-Kit and water. He’s EMT-trained so he can give initial first aid. We understand you have a whistle. If you’ll give three short blasts every fifteen seconds, it would help Giles pinpoint your location.”

“We’re near the beach. On the other side of the island. I’ll run down to the water and wave to you.”

“Roger, Rescue Dog One.”

Daisy clicked off and gave Mikey more water. She turned back to Sky who was nodding off. “What do you mean you think your leg is broken? How in the world did you get up on the beach? Let me take a look.” She ripped up the leg of his flight suit and grimaced as she ran her hand lightly over the ugly black and blue, swollen right shin.

Sky winced. “Please don’t touch it, darlin’. At least until I get something for the pain. It happened when we got here. All I remember was waking up when the surf washed us over those jagged rocks out there. And then I got slammed into one at a really odd angle. My body went between a couple of rocks, but my leg kind of stayed behind. I was afraid I’d pass out and get washed back into the sea. That’s why I half-dragged Mikey so far from the shoreline. Plus I could see this tree and, for some reason, it became my goal to get here.”

“Fair enough.” She turned to check Mike’s pulse and give him a few more sips. “What happened, Sky? It’s been all over the news, how the drug runners shot you down. How did you survive?

“Sorry, my lips are sealed. Can’t talk about it until I debrief.”

“Thank God you both got out of the helo. And this island was here.”

Sky screwed his face up; half laugh, half wince. “This island was not right where we needed it to be. There was nothing in sight after we egressed in the middle of a badass storm. Actually the storm was a blessing because we tanked up on fresh water. Swallowed all we could. And it probably blew us closer to this island, although we didn’t know it at the time. But when the storm cleared, we had to worry about sharks.”

Daisy felt her stomach threaten to empty. “Oh, my God! Not sharks.”

“I almost cut Mikey getting him out of his harness and if I had I don’t believe we’d be here today. But it must have been after feeding time, because the only one that came close lost interest immediately. I was certain we were goners. Remind me to find a church when we get back and light some candles or something. Or maybe I’ll make a donation to Sea World or the toothless sharks’ retirement home.”

Daisy sucked in a deep breath countering the need to throw up.

“Mikey is why we’re alive now. He always carries a canteen zipped into the lower left leg pocket of his flight suit. We rationed that for the better part of two days. Even so, we constantly prayed for more rain—and clouds. Not only for fresh water, but the sun just about fried us.”

Daisy gingerly touched Sky’s sunburned cheeks, rubbed her thumbs over his bleached eyebrows, then leaned in and kissed the bridge of his nose. “Why didn’t you radio for help?”

“Long story, sweetheart. Let’s just say when I cut Mikey loose so he could egress, I cut away more than the strap that was tying him down.

“Once we thought we heard a helicopter, but by the time I got the waterproof flare out of my flight suit, it was gone. We floated like that for a couple of days before we ran aground on this place in the middle of the night. Besides Mikey’s shoulder, this is where most of our injuries occurred. Those rocks are why we’re so cut up and covered in blood. Mikey hit his head pretty hard on one of them. He’s got a big lump under that matted blood. Thank God it was after we saw the shark.”

Daisy stroked Sky’s cheek, wishing she had some lotion for his sunburn. She opened the last water bottle and poured some into her hand before handing it to him. Then she patted his face with the cold water, and traced his lips with her finger. He kissed her finger. Then she turned and cooled Mikey’s face as well.

“We crawled up on this beach and just slept, but damn we were thirsty. We completely ran out of water yesterday
.
Good thing you showed up when you did because we started thinking being eaten by a shark was preferable to slowly dying from dehydration.”

“Do I need to know this part?” Daisy palpated his leg, causing him to wince.

She decided to hold off. He was probably in a great deal of pain and acting the proud warrior for her benefit. They both looked up when they heard the unmistakable noise of an approaching helicopter.

“Now, that is the most beautiful sound in the whole world.” But then he looked into Daisy’s eyes and his mouth tipped up in a painful smile. “Except, of course, the sounds you make when you...never mind, sweetheart.”

Daisy felt herself blush, but the roar of the hovering Seahawk helicopter made any further discussion nearly impossible. Sky pulled her in for a kiss. “You’re doing a good job, honey. I’m proud of you.”

She kissed him back then disentangled herself and jogged down to signal the approaching helo. Within minutes, Petty Officer Giles made his way down the wire and followed her to the downed pilots.

“Hey, sir. Good to see you. We got four ships out there, crawling around looking for you. Let’s get you off this rock and head home.”

“We’re good to go, buddy. You got any of the good stuff?”

“Sorry, just Vitamin-M.” He handed Sky two Motrin, then turned to check Mikey’s vital signs.

Daisy handed Sky a fresh water bottle, half of which he dumped over his head. The water ran down his sunburned face and he stuck out his tongue to lick it off his lips. “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking ’bout.”

Daisy turned to Giles. “I wouldn’t recommend any medication for his co-pilot. I want to ensure he’s conscious and his breathing is stable first.” Daisy indicated Sky’s leg. “This one might have a fracture. Once that Motrin kicks in, I’d like to set this leg.”

“Uh, ma’am…”