Rescue Heat (2 page)

As Matt got their patient safely to the chopper, Brigid made sure all the equipment was secure. Medical equipment was far too expensive for them to drop it into the sea. When Matt swung himself back to the platform, she could see the quick and sadly familiar look of surprise that she already had the heavy bags in her arms.

You didn’t last long in this job if you couldn’t pull your weight. Since her first day as flight doctor, Brigid had very deliberately put five kilos of muscle onto her slim five foot eleven frame. She helped Matt with the backpack and then stood passively as he latched them together again.

The wind had picked up, so the wire swung as the winch took them skyward. With a casual move that underplayed the sheer physical strength needed, Matt locked his leg around hers and twisted. This action ensured that if they crashed into the side of the helicopter, because of an unfortunate gust of wind, his body would bear the brunt of any impact.

The action caught Brigid by surprise. For a long moment, she was distracted by a simple appreciation for the hard thigh against her own. Another hard jolt of the dangling wire quickly brought her brain back to life. She was not sure how she felt about this act of almost casual chivalry. While it was Matt’s job to maintain the safety of all crew and patients on down wire operations, it was not his job to put himself between her and danger.

Brigid did not have long to ponder that thought, as all her concentration was needed to clamber though the door of the helicopter. This was something that always required a certain amount of physical dexterity.

Between Matt and herself, they quickly had Joe hooked up to the available monitors. If something was going to go wrong with your patient in-flight, you wanted to know fast. Minimal room to move limited their options, so advance warning was essential.

It was a fifteen-minute flight from the Outer Reef to Cairns Hospital so all Brigid could do now was monitor his vital signs. Luckily, they seemed to be holding steady, and under the pressure of the more efficient oxygen mask, his oxygen stats were even improving slightly. The bluish tinge was still there, but the look of panic in Joe’s eyes had lessened considerably.

Brigid settled back in her seat and picked up her radio. She dialled the direct line to Cairns Base Hospital.

“Dr Brigid Adair from Cairns Rescue One speaking. Confirming incoming patient with suspected pneumothorax. ETA seven minutes, coming in to helicopter landing pad.”

It was days like this you could see the real need for the Emergency Management Queensland Helicopter Rescue Service. No helicopter availability would have meant Joe would only now be beginning a two-hour boat ride back to shore, on a dive boat without medical supervision.

Yet Brigid was not ready to congratulate herself until the helicopter had touched down and she had successfully transferred a stabilised Joe to the Cairns Emergency Department.

She could see the rapidly approaching coastline and Cairns Base Hospital rooftop. Cairns Base Hospital was one of the few hospitals in the country right on the water’s edge. This came in handy, in moments like this one, as it allowed for the quick transfer of patients from the islands or reefs.

Their helicopter landing pad was on the stretch of grass between the hospital and the marina. The surrounding outer reefs protected Cairns’ beaches, so the waves that had pounded the dive platform were non-existent here and the water had the famous Queensland sparkle.

Dave brought the helicopter expertly over the hospital grounds and down smoothly onto the clearly marked landing pad. They were doing a hot transfer, so they kept the helicopter running while transferring the patient. When the helicopter door opened, air generated by the still rapidly swirling blades blasted their faces.

A nurse and two orderlies came over a with a hospital trolley. Between Brigid, Matt and two extra pairs of hands, they successfully transferred Joe to the hospital trolley. Once a safe distance from the helicopter, Brigid gave the crew the thumbs up and signalled for them to head back to base without her.

In the base change rooms, Matt stripped, readying himself for the shower. He was glad they had warned him to bring extra uniforms. The sea spray had crusted his flight suit stiff.

Matt had just slung a towel around his waist and was looking forward to the heat of the shower when Chris entered the change room.

“Brigid is away from the base,” Chris said. “But if you want to keep your modesty in the future, keep in mind she shares the shower and change room with us.”

Chris laughed at Matt’s raised eyebrows. “Hey, we have separate male and female toilets because we have always had female dispatches. But, Brigid is one of the first women we’ve ever had on the rescue teams. So get used to changing in the shower stall.”

“Thanks for the warning. So what’s the story with the lovely Doc?” Matt asked, hoping his voice sounded appropriately casual.

Matt had been surprised when he arrived early on shift and found himself introduced to the very attractive Dr Brigid Adair. When he had done his training in Brisbane no one had mentioned that the doctor assigned to Cairns Rescue Team One was a woman, let alone a young and gorgeous one.

He could see shutters of apprehension appear in Chris’ eyes.

“She’s not the type to walk around here naked if that’s what you’re asking,” said Chris.

“Strangely enough that wasn’t my meaning.”

Matt could see the light of protective protest retreat a little, as Chris continued. “She’s an excellent doctor, as I’m sure you saw today. Unlike some doctors she’s not afraid of going down the wire and she listens to the input of the crew.”

It looked like Brigid was a protected species in this crew, especially with the slightly older men. Dave and Chris were in their early forties and seemed to have a paternalistic rather than leering attitude to the doctor. Keeping that in mind, Matt decided his curiosity was probably not going to be satisfied in these quarters.

Matt walked over to the shower stall, hung his clothes on the hook provided and turned on the water. He was especially careful, given Chris’ warning, to lock the door before he dropped the towel.

Most men would have been pleased to find an attractive, dark-haired, blue-eyed woman with long slender limbs in their work environment, but when she had walked in, closely clothed in black jeans, a t-shirt and hair hanging loose, Matt’s stomach had lurched. His experience of his first military unit had become almost unbearable when he had found out his girlfriend (and colleague) was sleeping with his bunkmate. Since then Matt had kept his relationships light and as far away from the workplace as possible. He was not a man who needed to learn his bitter lessons twice.

At least Brigid Adair seemed able to banish her bombshell looks during work hours. This morning, by the time their shift started, she had been appropriately attired in a buttoned up flight suit with her shoulder-length dark hair confined under the rescue branded baseball cap.

Matt felt his tension ebbing away as the hot water pummelled his body. Being able to shower after a single rescue had to be one of the major advantages of being back in civilian mode. Too often in the military simple comforts were few and far between. Today’s rescue had had its own particular dangers, but at least he hadn’t had to watch for bullets whizzing by or worry that the person assisting him was going to lose a limb if a bomb exploded nearby. Unfortunately, after seven years of being a frontline combat medic, Matt’s speciality had become the hundreds of things a bullet or an improvised explosive device could do to a human body.

Now fully dressed in his uniform, hair combed into place, Matt exited the change rooms. The helicopter base was essentially an aircraft hanger with rooms and offices built into the side. Matt headed to the ground floor kitchen, which seemed to be where the rescue crew hung out when they were on base. Sparsely furnished in the way of all government-funded buildings, the kitchen had a bare, utilitarian feel.

Dave and Chris were at the chipboard table with their hands cupped around their mugs. Matt took a seat, after snagging himself a coke out of the machine.

“Brigid still not here?” asked Chris.

“No. She called to say she’d hitch a ride back with one of the ambos,” Dave said.

He turned to Matt and explained, “If we get a call before she gets back, the hospital is close enough for her to be here by the time we get the helicopter out on the tarmac. We’re one of the few units that have a permanent doctor on base. We get so many calls the hospital got sick of us nicking their doctors off shift, so they lobbied to get us the funding we needed for our own team.”

“Does Brigid go with us on every call out?” Matt asked, hoping for an answer in the negative.

These days he was a man who avoided temptation. He had the willpower not to succumb but the appeal of this woman would make the fight harder.

“Yeah, she goes with every Cairns Rescue Team One call. Even the occasional times we help out the customs boys with a bit of spotting from the skies.”

Hell, it looked like the brunette was a permanent fixture.

Dave finished his tea and stood up, back in business mode. “We should start the restock before we get another call out. If the wind on the outer reef stays heavy, we could be in for a busy day.”

Voices from outside alerted them to Brigid’s return. When she appeared through the large hanger doors, she was wearing blue scrubs and had her flight suit shoved under her arm. Somehow, even in the shapeless scrubs, her elegant body was apparent.

“How’s the patient?” Matt asked.

“Good,” a smile of professional satisfaction lit up Brigid’s face. “We were able to confirm the diagnosis of pneumothorax with an X-ray. So Joe is now doing much better with a chest tube in place.”

“Is he going to need surgery?”

“If the air continues to leak out of his lung, he will but hopefully it’ll resolve itself. I think whatever happens the diving part of his holiday is on indefinite hold.”

“It’s borderline because he did surface too quickly, but I don’t think we can count this as a stupid accident that people cause for themselves,” Chris commented laconically.

The wave of laughter shared between Chris, Dave and Brigid, told Matt that this was a familiar refrain.

Brigid pulled up a seat next to Matt. “If you were stationed in the desert it must have been a while since you’ve had to deal with a scuba diving injury.”

The intensity with which she asked the question made him believe that his answer was important.

“Yeah, I was grateful for the paramedic refresher course I did here. Water-based injuries haven’t really been my thing,” Matt shrugged.

“Maybe it’s a pity that you weren’t Navy trained then,” said Brigid, leaning back into her chair.

Matt wasn’t used to having his years of exemplary service dismissed in such a cavalier manner.

“Yeah, well seeing as no Navy man applied, you’ll have to make do with little old me,” he said, as he waved his hand at his large frame. Matt certainly didn’t care at this point if anyone could hear the sarcasm in his tone. “Maybe you can finish the training that the United States Armed Forces neglected.”

Brigid had certainly noted the edge of insincerity, if her tight smile was any indication. “You were hired for this job through a rigorous recruiting process. So I’m sure you’re up for the challenge.”

Matt thought that Australian women were supposed to be relaxed and go-with-the-flow types. Brigid certainly had bypassed that trend and headed into uptight and controlling territory.

“I’ll go and properly clean up,” Brigid said. She raised her voice. “Dave, I’ll be back down in five to do the medical bag audit.”

Day’s end came without another call out. Matt made the twenty-minute drive home in his new SUV. When he’d gone car shopping, he’d found himself unable to resist buying one of the largest vehicles available. Feeling cramped driving a normal sedan was no doubt one of many remnants of military life.

He had not seen much of Brigid today, after their initial call-out. She had locked herself in the quiet of her office, using the excuse of paperwork. Chris and Dave, on the other hand, were eager teachers. They obviously loved sharing the secrets of their bird, the AW139. Luckily for their future patients, this was an extremely well fitted out rescue helicopter. Matt found the seat and stretcher configuration changes were easy to learn and manage. He appreciated the time he spent with the two men and was glad to see them relax when they realised he was no rookie at this type of work.

Matt pulled into the sweeping drive of his new house. The house was not what anyone would expect a paramedic to own. He had certainly fudged his residential address when talking to the men on the rescue crew. His background was hugely affluent and ten years of back-to-basics military life had not put much of a dent in his inheritance.

Matt was not quite sure what had led him to make such an extravagant purchase in a country where he wasn’t sure of the length of his stay. He figured he must have had a desire to spend the money burning a hole in his pocket. That desire seemed to have been partly fulfilled by him placing of over a million dollars into the local economy.

Whatever the reasons, he was now the proud, slightly bewildered owner of a beachfront property in an exclusive enclave.

The house was modern in a plantation style, its timbers painted white. Matt walked straight though the large, high ceiling living area and out onto his deck. The view had seduced him on the day he came out here with the real estate agent on a whim.

His house faced out onto the sea and a narrow beach of perfect, white sand. This tropical paradise and its heavy, humid air was a world away from the dry arid earth with which he had become so familiar.

He had bought the house furnished and it still had the impersonal feel of a lavishly appointed resort. Matt went to the bedroom where he shed his clothes and pulled on a pair of board shorts and an old soft t-shirt. He stood in the door of his fridge and rooted out a six-pack of full-strength beer. With a bottle in his hand, he walked down to the lawn chair at the end of his land, just a metre from the sand of the beach. Revelling in the quiet and beauty of the water, Matt felt like a man on his own, very luxurious island.