Chapter 33
It felt good to be at the controls again, even if it was a very different kind of aircraft.
One designed not to kill or blow things up, but to carry people having a good time, to beautiful places.
Or in this case, to help in a desperate rescue.
Which spoke to Blaine on a deep level, making him wonder if he should have focused on medevac work more all this time.
The takeoff went smoothly, and he had to admit he liked how much quieter the closed-in cabin of the craft was, compared to the often open-sided military choppers.
And that enclosed rotor made a difference, too.
He got them out of the airport traffic pattern as quickly as possible and moved inland, to be able to fly faster than they could near the more popular coastal area.
It was only a few minutes before he had it pretty much down, the way the helicopter responded and how he needed to adjust his instinctive moves for the lighter—and unarmed—craft.
Mr. Russell had kindly uploaded a fairly detailed aerial map of the park, making it easier for them to determine where the boundaries and roads were.
“Coulda been worse,” Blaine muttered.
“What?” came Erin’s voice in his ear, almost startling him, he’d been so focused on being in the air again.
“Just thinking at least we’ve got something the size of a car to look for. Could have been a motorcycle or bicycle.”
“He wants a motorcycle.”
He gave her a brief glance before going back to scanning, aware from the radio traffic he’d heard that there was a local agency police helicopter aloft to the north. “He does? How’d you feel about that?” he asked, although he guessed he already knew the answer.
“I told him no way.”
“How’d that go over?”
He thought he heard her sigh, although it was hard to tell. “Like anything I tell him since…”
She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to.
He knew she meant since they’d split. He smothered a sigh of his own.
He’d reach out to touch her, reassure her that they’d work it out somehow, but there was that pesky detail of needing hands and feet on the controls. He smothered the urge and kept flying.
He had the feel of the Airbus now, and pushed the speed up to as fast as he thought safe. Maybe a bit beyond. But as was long ingrained habit, he never lost track of where they were, and never stopped scanning the ground.
Just in case.
“We’re not there yet,” Erin’s voice came in his ear. “What are you looking for?”
“Likely spots, if we have to set down in a hurry.” He’d said it almost absently, but when she stiffened he glanced at her. “It’s second nature, like watching the fuel gauge and the compass. Like you check for cross traffic at an intersection in a car. That’s all.”
“Oh.”
When they neared the park area he slowed. He’d already planned out a search grid for the park, but before they started he flew along the few paved areas, road and parking, and the main campground areas to check for any sign of the maroon sedan. Nothing.
He was about to begin the grid search they’d worked out when he saw a rhythmic flash of light from just ahead and to their right side, along the northern boundary of the park.
“There’s Rafe,” he said.
“That flash…it was a signal?”
He nodded.
“Let me guess,” she said, her tone a little dry, “that’s another thing you two didn’t have to discuss because it’s just habit?”
He glanced at her to see if she was upset for some reason. But she was almost smiling, so he just said, “Once a Marine…”
The Foxworth phone signaled. Erin lifted it to her head. He pulled the right side of the headset off his ear so he could hear. When she saw that, she turned on the speaker.
“You could have used this and foregone the semaphore,” she said, and he could imagine Rafe’s grin.
“Saves time,” Rafe said, sounding unoffended. Then, briskly, “Air’s clear at the moment.”
“And no sign of the car in any of the campground areas, or parking areas,” Blaine said.
“There are a few off-road tracks on this side they might know about. Or have caused,” Rafe said. “It would definitely put them off the beaten track. I’ll check those with Cutter while you do the area scan. Let me know when you’re changing sectors and we’ll shift position.”
“Copy. Starting section one now.”
They’d divided the map of the park into sections of about a hundred acres.
They were able to eliminate the more frequently used areas that held visitors even now in the off-season, which narrowed it a bit.
But eight thousand acres was a lot of ground to cover, and it was going to be a long day.
And would likely require a return to the airfield for refueling before they were done, if they had to cover the whole thing.
They’d decided to start on the outer edges, the less visited areas, on the assumption the kids would think it a better place to hide. Then they’d work their way toward the middle. Those areas, with campgrounds and hiking trails and overlooks, would take longer, but they would get it done.
Erin was as intent on the task as he’d expected she’d be.
More than once she went for the high-power binoculars Mr. Russell had loaned them.
They were truly needed because of the promise they’d had to make that they would stay as high as possible, to avoid spooking all the wildlife that called this place home.
He knew only the Foxworth name had gotten them permission to make this search at all, and he was once more in awe of this place Rafe had landed.
But every time Erin raised them, she eventually lowered the binoculars with a shake of her head.
He flew on, fiercely intent, as if he were hunting armed insurgents who would slaughter his fellow troops on the ground.
Because to him it had become even more important.
This was Ethan they were searching for, that precious boy who meant more than any other human being to him—except for the woman beside him, who was searching just as intently.
Memories of last night started to intrude, but he knew better than to let them in.
Because if he started thinking about how spectacular it had been, how incredible, how it had surpassed even the vivid images that so often blew up his dreams, he’d lose focus, and he couldn’t risk that.
He hadn’t been at all surprised, it had always been that way between them, but he’d had to admit time—or his efforts at avoidance—had dulled the vibrancy of the memories a bit.
But after last night, everything was as vivid and powerful as ever.
Maybe you didn’t ever get over a woman who’d been at your side since childhood.
He slammed the door shut on those thoughts with the ease of long practice and the fierceness of a hard-won determination.
Although he had to admit he’d had worse observers aboard than Erin.
She was both intent and intense, and had no qualms about telling him to circle back for a better look at something.
At least he didn’t have to worry about enemy forces trying to blow him out of the sky.
Although dodging that red-tail hawk a moment ago had been a bit jolting.
But he didn’t want to hit it—he liked the birds who seemed to love flying as much as he did.
He couldn’t help smiling at the memory that surfaced then.
“What?” Erin asked.
He was a little surprised she’d noticed, as intently as she was focused on surveying the ground beneath them.
“Just remembering my dad joking that if he believed in reincarnation, he figured I’d come back as one of those red tails.”
“Hmm,” she said, as if seriously considering the idea. “I would have thought a bald eagle would be more appropriate.”
He gave her a startled glance for the instant he could spare. She seemed to sense it, and glanced back. And the cabin of the helicopter seemed suddenly full of an electricity he was surprised didn’t short out all the instruments. He almost said something, but the Foxworth phone signaled again.
“Cutter hit on something,” Rafe said. “Just south of your location. Near some off-road tire tracks. Faint, so not recent, but something.”
“Copy.”
He’d made the adjustment to the search area before he finished speaking the word. Erin had the binoculars up to her eyes again just as fast. It was nearly a minute, which seemed like a week to him, before she spoke.
“There’s Cutter.”
He shifted, while she scanned the area. He changed their angle as much as he could, putting some strain on the engines to keep them aloft, so she could use more window to see.
He spotted the dog, who was forging ahead like some unstoppable force, his nose working hard.
Rafe was a few feet behind, and without looking away from the intent Cutter, he waved at them to indicate he was aware.
Blaine began to make rhythmic sweeps, covering a swath on either side of the search path Cutter had made so clear.
They’d been at it a few minutes when Erin asked, “Can you drop down, just a little?”
He did so, and at the same time resumed the visual scan he’d begun the moment Rafe had spoken, always looking for someplace to set down if need be.
“There!” Erin yelped. “I swear, I saw a glimpse of something maroon or purple! Next to that tree that’s still got some leaves on it, down and to the left.”
He dropped down even more, until the rotors set the branches of everything he could see swirling.
“It’s the car!”
“A car,” he cautioned, and sent them upward again.
“What are you—”
“Tell Rafe,” he said, not caring that he’d cut her off at this point. “I’m going to set down over there near that tree you pointed out.”
She grabbed the phone and spoke into it as he negotiated the slightly cramped clearing. He could only hope the Foxworth good name would cover him landing on county property—or maybe it was state out here?—without getting permission first.
Because he wasn’t about to stop now.