Radclyffe - Oath of Honor
struck by the way Wes gave everything her full attention, her all, a
hundred percent of the time. Evyn spent her days with powerful people,
and she wasn’t easily impressed, but that kind of fierce focus was
incredibly exciting to watch. Wes issued orders without looking up from
her patient, calm, sure, utterly in command. Wes personalized power in
a way she’d never experienced before, and watching her, Evyn couldn’t
help but imagine what that kind of potent focus would feel like turned
on her in an intimate moment. Her skin beneath the tight neoprene suit
pebbled with excitement, and heat bloomed in the pit of her stomach.
She’d rarely been the recipient of physical attention even half as forceful
and was always content to take the lead in bed. Satisfying a woman was
incredibly gratifying, and she hadn’t been looking for more. A calm and
quiet orgasm was just fine—only when she imagined being with Wes
Masters, there was nothing calm or quiet about it. She felt the weight of
Wes’s body pinning her down, Wes’s hands exploring her—not asking
permission, her consent readily given. Her blood raced with the urge to
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open, to be known, to surrender. Nothing familiar about any of it, but
so right. So damn right.
Beside her, Gary cleared his throat. She shot him a look. He was
staring at her.
“What?”
“You looked…mesmerized. Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere.” Evyn was glad her face was already red from the
wind and the water, because heat rose through her. “Just watching the
exercise.”
“Ha ha. Watching a lot more than that.”
“Shut up, Brown.”
He laughed. “She’s really pretty hot.”
“Will you shut up,” Evyn said through her teeth. Gary had a wife
and three kids and was one of the few people on the detail who never
fooled around, married or not. She didn’t pass judgment on those who
did. When you spent days on end, week after week, with the same
people in the tensest situations imaginable, doing things you couldn’t
tell your friends and family, letting off steam together was only natural.
Sometimes letting off steam took the shape of sweaty groping in a hotel
room in some city on the way to or from the next point on a map.
“Just saying,” Gary said.
“Well, don’t.”
The beat of helicopter rotors cut through the howling wind, and a
Coast Guard medevac chopper appeared overhead.
“Transport’s here,” she called.
“One minute!” Wes pulled a neck immobilizer from her bag and
eased it behind the figure’s neck.
Evyn switched radio channels and advised the helicopter to lower
their Stokes basket. The helo rocked above them in the wind, and the
metal-mesh toboggan swung back and forth like a pendulum on its
cables as it descended from the open belly. She and Gary went forward
to guide the basket down.
“How does it look?” she asked Wes.
“First stage hypothermia, potential head and neck injury from
impact on the water, and possible aspiration. His neck is stable, we’ve
got the thermal blankets on, and I’ve started antibiotics. He needs a
CAT scan upon arrival.”
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“Can we transfer?”
Wash kicked up from the rotors and sprayed Wes’s back and face.
She blinked the water away. “He’s ready.”
Evyn signaled the chopper to continue lowering the Stokes. A
sharp gust of wind nearly knocked her off her feet. The chopper dipped
and rose sharply, canting in the shifting air currents. A crack like a rifle
shot cut through the air and the rear cable securing the basket snapped.
The metal toboggan came crashing down. Evyn lunged for the flailing
cable end as Wes crouched over the mannequin, shielding the figure
from the careening basket. The end of the madly swinging metal carrier
sliced the air, struck Wes in the shoulder, and knocked her out of the
boat.For one millisecond Evyn was completely paralyzed. The deck
where Wes had knelt was empty. The surface of the sea was nothing but
angry water. Wes was gone.
Evyn jumped up on the bulwark and dove over the side.
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chapter eighteen
The world spun crazily upside down. The light flickered rapidly
and finally blinked out and all that was left was cold. Only
pain and blood-stopping cold. Unseen hands dragged Wes deeper
beneath the icy mantle, into a blackness that extinguished the last
glimmer of illumination. Instinctively, she held her breath, struggling
to orient herself in the surreal landscape of shock and panic. Her left
arm wouldn’t obey her. She kicked and flailed but her water-filled boots
and sodden jeans weighed her down. Up and down held no meaning—
she revolved in a world without substance. Her animal brain fled from
the freezing darkness, away from the primeval terror engulfing her.
Primitive reflexes kicked in, and she fought to return to the last place
she’d felt light and heat. The surface.
She struggled upward, her chest burning, the pain so huge she
hungered to suck in air to soothe the flames. She clamped her teeth
shut, finally recognizing the water that entombed her, water that would
provide no air, only sudden and swift death. With only her right arm
and her clumsy legs to power her, she flailed and kicked and writhed
her way toward the shimmer of light penetrating the gloom. Despair
squeezed her throat closed.
She wasn’t going to make it. Too far, too cold, too much pain.
Blood thundered in her ears, her heart crashed wildly against the
crushing pressure in her chest. Another second and instinct would
overrule reason. She had to breathe. Breathe and end the torture.
Fury washed through her. She would not surrender. Her mind
hazed, confusion dulled her senses. The cold bored deep inside her and
bloomed into heat, suffusing her with blissful warmth. Another few
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seconds and the fear began to abate. She stopped thrashing. The vise
around her chest tightened, and her battle slowed. Her arms and legs
were so heavy. The sea—warmer now—enclosed her, streaming past
her face like gentle fingers caressing her, welcoming her. She was so
close to falling asleep, the cold forgotten.
A frigid blast of air hit her in the face and someone yelled into her
ear, “Breathe, damn it. Breathe!”
Wes jerked and sucked in a lungful of air. She coughed and life
returned to her arms and legs. Pins and needles shot into her fingers and
toes. A knife blade of slicing pain pierced her chest. The cold returned
with a vengeance. Enemies grasped at her, threatening to pull her back
into the dark. She thrashed.
“Wes, it’s Evyn! Don’t fight me.”
The darkness disappeared, gray sky flashed overhead. An arm
gripped her chest—Evyn. Evyn was towing her. Evyn was not the
enemy. Wes tried to kick her legs, but she couldn’t move.
“Almost there,” Evyn panted, her breath sounding harsh and
labored. “Wes, keep breathing.”
Wes sucked in another breath, coughed again. Her throat burned.
“Evyn, what—”
“It’s okay, we’re almost to the boat.” Evyn’s voice was strained,
tremulous.
The water was so cold. The shore was a distant blur. A whirlpool
pulled at her legs. Riptide. Evyn’s grip on her slipped, and Evyn
cursed.
“You’ve got to hold on to me,” Evyn shouted. “The current is
against us.”
“Don’t let me pull you down.” Wes tried to force her lethargic
limbs to move. “I can swim.”
“Shut up, Wes,” Evyn grunted. “I’m not letting you go.”
Wes was too tired, too cold, and in too much pain to argue. Water
splashed into her mouth, and she needed all her strength to keep her
head above the roiling waves. She had to trust Evyn. She did trust her.
A shadow loomed overhead. The boat.
“Let me lift you,” Evyn ordered. “Don’t fight me.”
Icy metal scraped Wes’s back as she was rolled into a narrow litter
and strapped down. She spun in midair and the litter rappelled upward,
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jerking with each ratchet of the winch. Hands grabbed the basket and
guided it onto the deck, voices tumbled over one another—a jumble of
orders and phrases she thought she recognized but couldn’t make sense
of. “Evyn?”
“She’s right here.” A man’s voice. Then, “Daniels, get below.
You’re blue.”
Someone lifted Wes’s left arm, and she groaned.
“Sorry.” A woman’s voice. She knew her. Who?
Wes fought to come back to herself. She opened her eyes, focused
on the faces looking down at her. She knew them. Had to connect the
names floating in her hazy mind.
“Do you know where you are?” the blonde asked. Blonde—hazel
eyes. Worried eyes. Cord.
“I’m okay,” Wes said, her voice sounding like a croak. “On board
the ship. I’m okay.”
“You’re okay,” Gary echoed, his face oddly white against the flat
gray sky.
“Let me up.” Wes struggled against the strap across her chest.
“Just take it easy.” Evyn appeared next to Gary. “You took a swim,
Doc. Let us check you out.”
Above Evyn’s left shoulder the helicopter slid into view, its belly
open, the rescue basket angled in the portal. The basket—the basket
swinging toward her. Toward her and the patient, her priority. “I
remember going in. How’s the patient?”
Evyn smiled crookedly. “Which one?”
“The president. The only one.”
“He’s fine.” Evyn’s mouth twisted and a shadow passed over her
face—storm clouds in a summer sky. “How are you?”
“Left shoulder’s getting a workout, but it’s just banged up some.
Swallowed a little water, feels like. I’m okay.”
The radio crackled. Cord said, “Lower the Stokes.”
Wes twisted her head, felt a restraint on her neck. “You can take
this collar off. I’m fine.”
“You are,” Evyn said, her bloodless lips tinged with blue. “But
we’re going to transport you to the hospital—check you out.”
“No way,” Wes said, her voice stronger already. “I never lost
consciousness. There’s nothing they’re going to find in the ER that I
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can’t tell you right now—my shoulder is contused and I’m cold. Get me
warm and I’ll be fine.”
“You’re not in charge here, Dr. Masters,” Evyn said sharply. She
shivered violently and her eyes glazed before she blinked them back
into focus.
“I’m the senior medical officer,” Wes said. “And you’re verging
on hypothermia. Gary—she needs to get out of that wetsuit and get
warmed up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Gary said. “Evyn, you heard the captain. Get below
and strip down. The extra thermals are in the bulkhead.”
“Don’t pull rank on me, Wes,” Evyn said.
With her good hand, Wes unsnapped the buckle holding the band
across her chest and pushed up until she was sitting in the litter. “I
wouldn’t need to if you listened to reason.” Her head swirled, but she
fought down a wave of nausea. Her shoulder ached, but sensation had
returned to her fingers and her arm was moving again. Stiff and sore,
but mobile. “I’ve had worse playing rugby.”
“That’s not in your personnel file.”
Wes grinned. “Not everything is in there, don’t you know that?”
Cord’s voice cut through the rush of wind. “Let’s finish this pissing
contest onshore. Can I release the chopper?”
“Yes,” Wes said, “as soon as the president is transferred up.”
“You’re going too,” Evyn said.
“If I needed to go—which I don’t—we’d wait for another chopper.
POTUS is the priority. We do this by the book.”
“The exercise is over.”
“I’m not grandstanding, Evyn,” Wes said quietly, holding Evyn’s
gaze, letting Evyn see for herself she was okay and thinking rationally.
“I wouldn’t risk it if I thought there was a bigger problem, but I want to
end this mission on my feet.”
The glacial blue of Evyn’s eyes softened and she nodded to Cord.
“Send up the president’s litter.” She crouched by Wes, her face all Wes
could see. “But when we get back to land, I want to check you over
myself.”
“Deal.” Wes pulled the thermal blanket they’d placed over her
more tightly around her shoulders. “Go get out of that suit.”
Evyn grinned weakly. “No argument.”
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Wes waited until Evyn disappeared down the hatch before saying
to Gary, “Make sure she gets something hot into her. She expended a
lot of energy out there.”
Gary handed her a steaming thermos. “Tea. I’ll get hers next.”
“Thanks.” Wes sipped the blessedly hot liquid and closed her eyes.
The mission had very nearly been derailed by the accident, and when
they wrote up the report, they’d have to explain exactly how that had
happened—and who, if anyone, was responsible.
v
“Showers are down the hall on the right,” Cord said as the group
hurried into the rescue station. She waved Jeff and Gary on and turned
to Evyn and Wes. “The first order of business is for the two of you to
get warmed up.”
“Go ahead,” Evyn said to Wes. “You feel steady enough?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Some heat and dry clothes and I’ll be good to go.
You need to hit the showers too, Agent Daniels.”
“Gary went to get our gear from the car—I’ll get it and be there
in a second.”
“All right. Thanks.” Wes left quickly and Evyn squelched the urge
to follow immediately.
The distance in Wes’s voice was nearly as chilling as the water
had been. Evyn couldn’t tell if Wes’s aloof reserve hid anger, pain,
or criticism, but the wintery expression in Wes’s eyes left her feeling
abandoned. The stab of loneliness was as frightening as it was
