Chapter 41
Gabe couldn't move.
A steel beam pinned him across the chest, pressing him into rubble and broken concrete. His ribs screamed with each breath. Dust filled his lungs. Blood ran down his face from somewhere he couldn't identify.
But none of that mattered.
Cara was in there. David was in there. Somewhere in the wreckage or beyond it, and he was trapped under debris while they—
"Gabe!"
The voice came from above, distant and muffled by ringing ears.
"Gabe, can you hear me?"
Footsteps crunched across rubble, getting closer.
Then a face appeared above him through the dust and smoke.
Tyler Price.
His friend's eyes went wide with shock, then flooded with relief. "This is good."
Price's voice cracked on the words, like he'd been preparing himself for the worst.
"Get it off." Gabe tried to push at the beam. His arms had no strength. "Get it off me. I have to—"
"Hold still." Price was already moving. "Sullivan! Riordan! I need two more on this beam!"
Two State Police officers appeared. Young. Strong. All three of them positioned along the steel.
"On three," Price said. "One. Two. Three—"
They lifted.
The weight came off Gabe's chest in a rush. He gasped, tasting blood and concrete dust.
Price grabbed him under the arms and hauled him clear of the debris, lowering him carefully onto less-damaged flooring.
"Don't move. Let me check you." Price's hands moved with practiced competence, checking for broken bones, spinal injury, internal bleeding. "Can you feel your legs? Wiggle your toes for me."
Gabe moved his feet. Everything worked. Everything hurt, but everything worked.
"I'm fine. I have to—" He tried to sit up.
Price pushed him back down. "You're not fine. You were trapped under a steel beam in a collapsed building. You need—"
"My brother's here somewhere." Gabe shoved Price's hands away and forced himself upright. The world spun. He ignored it. "Cara. They went after Hale and I lost them and—"
"Gabe, wait—"
He was already moving, stumbling through debris toward where the stairwell had been, where he'd last seen Cara before the floor split them apart.
Price caught his arm. "You could have internal injuries. Broken ribs. You need to let the medics—"
Gabe pulled free. "Later."
Price's jaw tightened. Then he nodded once, sharp and decisive. "Fine. But I'm coming with you."
Wade appeared from the smoke and chaos, moving toward them with the same desperate purpose written across his face. Blood ran from a cut on his cheek, and his tactical vest was torn.
"There's a tunnel," Wade said without preamble. "Coast Guard stations always had emergency exits to the water."
Gabe forced the words out through gritted teeth. "Where?"
"Boat house." Wade pointed through the smoke toward the waterfront. "Connected to the main building. Hale wouldn't have hit that trigger without an escape route—"
Gabe was already running.
Pain screamed through his chest with each step. He didn't care. Couldn't care.
Cara. David. Had to find them.
The covered walkway was intact but barely, swaying like it might collapse at any moment. He crossed it in seconds with Wade and Price right behind him.
The boat house doors hung open. Inside, the smell of salt water and diesel fuel. The rumble of a boat engine already running.
Gunfire cracked from below. Once. Twice. Three times.
Bullets hitting water.
Gabe's heart stopped. Please, Lord. Please.
He found stairs leading down to the boat slips and took them at a run despite the fire screaming through his ribs. Wade was beside him, weapon already drawn. Price right behind them both.
They burst onto the dock level.
Hale stood at the edge of the slip, gun aimed down at the water between the pilings. His back to them.
"Drop it, Hale!" Wade's command cut through the enclosed space.
Hale spun toward them, bringing his weapon up.
Wade fired.
The shot hit Hale in the shoulder, spinning him back. His gun clattered to the dock. He staggered back, hand to his damaged shoulder.
Not a kill shot. Deliberate placement to neutralize the threat.
"Clear," Wade said. His weapon stayed trained on Hale while Price moved forward to kick the gun away and check for other weapons.
Gabe's eyes went to where Hale had been shooting.
There, under the dock, barely visible in the shadows and cold Pacific water—two heads bobbing, gasping for air.
Cara and David.
Gabe dropped to his knees at the dock's edge and reached down. Cara was closer. His hands found hers, ice cold and shaking so hard he almost lost his grip.
"I've got you.” He pulled her toward the dock. “I've got you."
Wade was beside him, grabbing David. Between them, they hauled both up onto the dock.
Cara was blue. Lips nearly purple. Body convulsing with shivers. Eyes unfocused.
David wasn't much better.
Price was already on his radio. "I need medics at the boat house. Two civilians in the water, hypothermia, and a suspect with gunshot wound."
Price looked at Wade. "Nice shooting."
"You’re welcome," Wade said. He was focused on David, checking his brother's pulse and trying to keep him alert.
While Price moved to stand over Hale, Gabe stripped off his jacket and wrapped it around Cara's shoulders. It wouldn't help much—wet clothes against wet skin—but it was something.
Her teeth chattered so hard she couldn't speak.
"It's okay. You're okay.” He rubbed her arms, trying to generate warmth, trying to keep her conscious.
"C-cold." She managed to get the word out.
"I know. I know. Help's coming."
Gabe looked over at his brother for the first time. David was slumped against Wade, shaking violently, his face pale and lips blue. But his eyes were open and clear. When they met Gabe's, something shifted in his expression. Relief? Guilt? Maybe both.
"You look terrible," David managed through chattering teeth.
A laugh broke from Gabe's chest, unexpected and raw. "Better than you, bro."
"You came looking for me." David's voice was hoarse, barely audible. "You idiot."
"Yeah, well." Gabe's throat tightened. "Somebody had to."
David's eyes filled, but whether from emotion or the cold, Gabe couldn't tell. "Three weeks. I'm sorry. I should've—"
"Later." Gabe's voice came out rough. "Right now just get warm."
David nodded, still shaking. "N-not going anywhere."
"Good."
Footsteps thundered down the stairs. Two paramedics with gear—emergency blankets, warm packs and oxygen.
They stopped, staring between the three casualties.
“This guy can wait,” Price said, pointing to a third paramedic already thundering down the stairs toward them.
One of the medics knelt beside Cara and started checking vitals. "How long in the water?"
"Five minutes. Maybe less." Wade answered while Gabe couldn't find words.
"Pulse is strong. Breathing good. She's fighting it." The medic wrapped her in a metallic emergency blanket. "Let's get her up to the ambulance."
David was already on his feet. Propped between Wade and the other first responder and swathed in his own metallic blanket, David swayed but Gabe was heartened to see him walking a straight line as Wade helped him slip past Gave and Cara.
“I call shotgun,” David teased as he passed.
The old joke caught Gabe straight in the heart. “Any time, dude. Any time.”
“I need a gurney down here.” The medic tending to Cara said into his radio.
"I can walk." Cara's protest came out slurred and unconvincing.
"You can try." The medic helped her stand.
Her legs buckled immediately.
Gabe caught her and lifted her without thinking, ignoring the medic's protest that he should let them handle it and the fire screaming through his ribs.
He carried her up the stairs, through the boat house, into cold morning air that felt tropical compared to the Pacific.
The parking area that had been empty when they'd arrived was now full of vehicles. State Police cruisers. County sheriff SUVs. Fire trucks. Two ambulances with lights flashing. First responders organizing in the pre-dawn darkness.
Price had mobilized half the county while Gabe had been trapped in the rubble.
He set Cara carefully on the gurney and watched the medics swarm around her, checking temperature, starting an IV, asking questions she could barely answer.
"We need to transport. Both of them. Hypothermia protocol." The lead medic looked at Gabe. "You family?"
He opened his mouth, couldn't figure out how to answer.
"Yes," Cara said. Her voice was steadier now. "He's family."
"Then you can ride along." The medic gestured to the jump seat. "But stay out of our way."
They loaded David into the second ambulance. Wade climbed in with him without hesitation.
Gabe sat in the jump seat and watched the medics work—warming blankets, hot packs under Cara’s arms and around her neck, heated IV fluids.
Cara's color was already better. The purple fading from her lips. The shaking becoming less violent.
"Temperature's coming up. Ninety-four point two." The medic marked something on a chart. "You got lucky. Another few minutes and we'd be looking at severe hypothermia."
Gabe's hands shook. He pressed them against his thighs and tried to breathe normally despite the pain in his ribs.
She'd jumped into the Pacific in December to save his brother.
Thank You, Lord. Thank You thank You thank You.
The prayer ran on repeat, inadequate and desperate and real.
Cara's eyes found his, clearer now and present. "David?"
"Other ambulance. Wade's with him." Gabe's voice came out rough. "You saved his life."
"I had help." She tried to smile and managed something close. "Wade shoots better than I do."
"You jumped in the ocean."
"Your brother can't swim."
The simple statement landed like revelation. She'd known, had assessed the situation, had made a calculated choice to risk drowning to save someone she'd never met.
"Neither can you, apparently," he said.
"I can swim fine." The smile reached her eyes this time. "I just prefer warmer water."
A laugh escaped him, unexpected and relieved. "You're insane."
"Been told that before."
The medic glanced at them. "Blood pressure's stabilizing. Core temp's rising. You did good getting her out fast."
“What about Hale?” she asked.
He stared out at the controlled chaos, uniformed first responders hurrying in every direction.
“Go,” she ordered with a weak shooing motion. “You know you want to interrogate him.”
“Wade shot him. Nothing serious, but he’s gotta be hating life right about now.”
Something sparkled in her eyes. “Sounds like the perfect time.”
For sure. But he couldn’t make himself leave her. She was going to be fine. But this could have gone so badly wrong…
“Gabe Sawyer, go!”
Swamped by too many emotions to sort, he reached for the hand not bristling with IVs and bent over it, planting a gentle kiss on her cold skin. “Yes ma’am.”