The Gauntlet (18 page)

As the fighters flew together in a rectangular flight pattern within the restricted airspace, Cam took a look at Molly. With her helmet on and the dark visor and oxygen mask across her face, he couldn’t tell if she was a man or woman. Still, something nagged him. He didn’t like the edge in Martin’s voice. Pressing the intercom button on the stick, he made contact with Martin.

“Are you all right, Martin?”

“Sure, I am.”

“Are you ready for this last test?”

“Of course.”

Cam knew that Martin would have to play the F-14 at the very edge of its envelope to make those six spins in regulation altitude requirements. Part of Cam wanted to stop the test; part of him didn’t.

“Permission to start the spin, Captain Sinclair?” Martin demanded. “There’s turbulence at twenty thousand, and I want to get this done before it gets any worse.
That’s
what caused me to abort that fifth spin.”

Cam had felt no turbulence at twenty thousand, but he was flying a half-mile circle around the spin aircraft. It was possible Martin had hit a nasty air pocket and had to abort the fifth spin. He’d have to check with Molly. Both would have felt it. “Permission granted. Ms. Rutledge, start your countdown,” Cam ordered.

Molly called off the numbers. When she called out “Ten,” Martin kicked hard left rudder and sent the F-14 into a tight, spiraling turn. Slammed against the seat, she mentally began to count the spins. One…two…three…four…

“Twenty-two thousand.”

She forced herself to breathe in. Martin was too low to make the six spins!

“Twenty-one thousand. Begin to pull out,” Cam ordered.

Five spins! Molly felt the G-forces building, causing pain in every part of her body. She grunted, forcing the air into her lungs.

“Nineteen thousand. Martin!” Cam snapped. “Pull it out! Pull it out!”

A gasp tore from Molly. Suddenly, the F-14 lurched violently, slamming her head against the cockpit canopy.

“Flat…spin!” Martin croaked.

“Eighteen thousand!”

Molly’s eyes bulged. Brown earth and blue sky and green water all started blurring together before her. Out of control! her mind screamed. The plane’s out of control! The G’s made it feel as if invisible hands were forcing her eyes out of her head.

“Seventeen thousand!” Cam yelled tautly. “Get that bird out of the flat spin, Martin! Now!”

Oh, God!
Molly thought, her fingers clenching the arms of her ejection seat.
If Martin doesn’t get the bird under control at fifteen thousand, we’ll have to bail out!
Something had gone wrong. The fifth spin had turned into a flat spin. The F-14 tumbled wildly out of the sky, the G’s brutally crushing at her body.

“Sixteen thousand! Martin!” Cam screamed. “Recover! Recover!”

“Bail out!” Martin cried. “Now, Rutledge! Now!”

“Fifteen thousand!” Cam cried. “Bail out!”

Panic struck Molly. From hours and months of training, she managed to hit the button. The canopy blew off, the wind slugging into her like pulverizing fists. Wind tore at her as she fumbled to find the levers beneath each arm of her seat. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. Eyes shut tightly, she heard Cam’s and Martin’s voices screaming in her ears. Locking the back of her arms against the seat, shoving her helmeted head tightly against it, she jerked the levers upward.

Seconds shattered into a nightmare sequence. The rockets fired, lifting her seat out of the fighter. Pain and pressure exploded along Molly’s spine as the ejection seat cleared the twin tail of the careening fighter. Everything became slow motion in front of her opened, widening eyes. The earth and sky blurred together, black dots dancing in front of her. Just like the fighter somewhere below her, she was tumbling end over end.

Suddenly, the chair separated, and at ten thousand feet in the icy air, her parachute pack opened. The nylon sang out, snaking above her. Molly tried to prepare for the jolt, but couldn’t really. The straps bit deeply into her thighs and shoulders as the chute billowed and opened fully above her. Gasping in shock, she tried to clear her head. To her right, she saw Martin’s F-14 suddenly come out of the flat spin.

To her left, she saw Cam’s aircraft slowly circling around her. Below her was Chesapeake Bay. It was going to be a water landing! Breathing hard, Molly held on to the chute lines, dangling in the silence of the sky. Her mind raced with what had to be done to make a safe water landing. Oh, God, it was going to be dangerous! Molly drifted closer and closer to the choppy water. The bay was a turgid green, white caps grasping upward like greedy fingers. As she floated closer, the wind became erratic, a real danger to her landing.

Jerking her head up, Molly looked above her at Cam’s aircraft. A cry broke from her.

Cam cursed softly, quickly switching his radio to the Coast Guard Search and Rescue channel. Vic was working the other radio in his cockpit, notifying the station of what had happened. He saw Molly drifting closer and closer to the water. The winds were erratic at five thousand feet, the F-14 bucking beneath his hands. If Molly landed downwind into the water, the chute strings could fall across her and tangle in her equipment and helmet, possibly dragging her down and drowning her.

“She’s in trouble!” Vic cried. “That wind’s terrific. She’s got to turn around and face the wind!”

Helplessly, Cam watched the unfolding scenario. Already, the Coast Guard Dolphin helicopter was on its way. It would be at least half an hour before they could effect Molly’s rescue. His hand tightened around the stick of his fighter.

“Turn, Molly!” he whispered tensely. “God, turn into the wind!” Cam didn’t care if his voice went out to the whole world. Molly
was
his world. He flew three thousand feet above her, watching her battle a new foe, the air currents. His anger and concern congealed into terror as he realized Molly wasn’t going to be able to turn into the wind in time. Was she injured? A broken shoulder or arm? That would explain why she couldn’t use the shrouds to turn the chute around. His heart lunged into his throat as he saw her hit the bay with a terrific splash, the water spewing upward twenty feet into the air where she hit.

“God, that’ll knock her out!” Vic rasped.

Water funneled up into Molly’s nose and down the back of her throat. She coughed wildly, jerkily clawing to keep her head above water. Parachute lines crisscrossed her like webs woven by a spider that had captured her. The silk of the chute lay like a white snake in the water, quickly absorbing the liquid and starting to sink beneath the surface.

The heavy flight boots, the G-suit and harness were rapidly taking on water. Molly yanked the helmet off her head, and it sank like a rock. Gasping, spitting up water, she tried to push off the strings that surrounded her and get to her Mae West vest. She only had a minute, perhaps less, before the chute would submerge and drag her into a watery grave, vest inflated or not.

Molly didn’t want to drown! Clawing for her survival knife, her hand shook so badly that she couldn’t open the sheath. The lines began to tighten around her. She felt the first tug from the chute. With a cry, water washing across her face, Molly fumbled again for the knife. She had to cut the lines or she’d die!

There! Her fingers closed around the butt. The Nomex gloves she wore were slippery on the handle. Grabbing the first bunch of lines across her face, Molly arced the knife upward, slicing through them! Frantically, she worked to capture the other lines that had balled like yarn around her body. Even a few lines could drag her under and kill her. Sobbing for breath, kicking with her feet to tread water, she hunted for the last of the slippery lines.

A few lines remained tangled around her lower left leg and flight boot. Molly felt the powerful pull of the chute as it sank beneath the water. Too tired to pull her leg upward to get at them, she couldn’t reach the lines. If she was going to survive, she would have to dive under the surface to locate them.

Taking a gulp of air, Molly knew she had to find them on her first search or she was dead. Eyes open, she could see the lines as she dived. The weight of the equipment she wore was pulling her down. She was sinking quickly! Her fingers outstretched toward her left boot, Molly hauled her leg up. There! Yes! Wrapping the last of the chute strings around her hand, she sliced downward with the knife. Free! She was free! She released the knife.

Twisting around and looking up, Molly realized she was at least twenty feet below the surface. She fumbled for and found the strings to inflate her vest. Yanking them simultaneously, she prayed they’d work. Instantly, her life vest inflated. Her lungs were on fire. She had to breathe! She was going to drown!

Shutting her eyes, kicking violently toward the surface, Molly felt her strength evaporate. Oh, God, she was going to die!
No, no, not now! Cam! Cam, I love you!
As her lungs seemed to burst, Molly cried out silently, the last of the oxygen escaping her mouth in a sheet of bubbles. She’d never get to tell Cam she loved him. Never know the beauty of loving him, or of being loved by him in return. Her vision started to gray, and Molly felt her arms begin to free-float.

Bursting to the surface, Molly gasped. Air! She floundered, throwing her head back, coughing. The inflated vest kept her head and shoulders out of the water even though the heavy flight suit and boots continually wanted to pull her under. Never had air felt so good. Molly vomited out the water she’d swallowed. Her hair was a wet mass about her face and shoulders. But she was alive! Alive!

Cam circled dangerously close to the bay’s surface. An involuntary cry had torn from him when he’d seen Molly dragged under by the tangled chute strings. He thought he’d lost her when it was nearly three minutes before she surfaced again. But when he saw her weakly lift her arm, he knew she’d survived.

“Let’s get back to base,” Vic said, his voice shaky. “She’s going to be okay, Cam. Search and Rescue will be on scene in another twenty minutes.”

“No, we’re staying on station until they arrive,” he croaked, his voice undisguised with feeling. “I’m not leaving her out here alone.”

“She almost bought the farm,” Vic whispered.

Cam tried to separate his emotions from his responsibilities. Molly floated below them, out of danger. Had she been injured by the ejection sequence? Any internal bleeding? She could be hurt and they wouldn’t know anything until the Coast Guard got her to the nearest hospital for examination.

“Vic, call the Coast Guard. Ask them which hospital they’ll take Molly to.”

“You bet.”

Shakily, Cam pushed the dark visor off his face and wiped the sweat from his furrowed brow. To the left of him, at a much higher altitude and disappearing, was Martin’s F-14. Cam had ordered him back to Patuxent River. He tried to separate his anguish from his suspicions. Had Martin deliberately put that F-14 into a flat spin to get rid of Molly? At ten thousand, Martin had gotten the bird out of the spin and stabilized.

Scowling, Cam continued to cruise the F-14 just this side of stall speed, flying long, lazy circles at three thousand above where Molly floated. If only he could talk to her, find out her condition! God, he loved her. Loved her! If that bastard Martin had deliberately planned this and nearly cost Molly her life, Cam would have his wings. First things first. The Coast Guard had to pick up Molly. Then, and only then, would Cam fly back to base.

“Cam, they’re going to take her to Crisfield Hospital at Crisfield, Maryland. That’s a long way from Patuxent. A good five-hour drive.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “I’m going to drive there today and make sure she’s okay.”

“Someone will have to be sent to investigate the ejection,” Vic said. “Why shouldn’t it be you?”

The weekend was coming up. Cam had the time off. He fought to stay unemotional, but it was impossible. “Vic, when I get back to TPS, I’m going to get permission to drive to Crisfield immediately. We’ll delay the student debrief until Monday for everyone. Is that all right with you?”

“Sure, no problem.”

Cam could hear the unasked question in Vic’s voice. Why was he going to such lengths to see Molly? Normally, only the investigation team would go see her. “Thanks,” he said, aware of his shredded emotions, his life in a turmoil he’d never expected.

Chapter Twelve

T
he windshield wipers flicked back and forth with a monotony that made Cam want to scream. The blackness of the night, the headlights of oncoming cars blurring against the rain-splattered windshield—all contributed to his exhaustion. Crisfield, Maryland, sat at the very end of the landmass, five hours away from Patuxent.

Wiping his eyes tiredly, Cam didn’t even try to hide from the fact that his hand trembled. It wasn’t from physical exhaustion; it was from worry about Molly. After landing at Patuxent River, he’d gone directly to Operations, where he had to fill out a report on the incident.

Frustrated by the hour it took to fill out the forms, Cam had called the Crisfield Hospital twice before leaving the station for the long drive. Yes, Molly had been admitted to the emergency room and no, they didn’t know her condition.

Fortunately, the commandant had agreed to Cam being the investigator on the incident and ordered him to drive to Crisfield with Molly’s personnel file. Her father had been notified by someone else at Ops, and Cam had left.

How was she? My God, she’d nearly drowned in the parachute lines. Cam swallowed hard, tears burning in his eyes. He loved her. God, how he loved her! His raw emotions were boiling through him, and he could barely think, much less stay focused on driving.

Still wearing his flight suit, Cam got soaked by the driving autumn thunderstorm as he ran from the visitors’ parking lot to the hospital’s emergency-room doors. Taking off his garrison cap inside, Cam gripped Molly’s file under his left arm. He zeroed in on two nurses standing behind the admissions desk.

“Excuse me, I’m Captain Sinclair from the Patuxent River naval air station. Do you have Ensign Molly Rutledge here?”

The red-haired nurse, the older one, smiled. “Yes, sir, we do.” She leaned over the computer monitor. “Dr. Paul Winklemann is her doctor. You’ll find him on the third floor. He can discuss her case with you, Captain.”