Page 63 of Hot SEAL, Under Pressure

He had a lot of time to think and consider the situation since Shelly was moving at the speed of a three-toed sloth. And he couldn’t blame her. He’d overcome a fear or two during BUD/S.

Hello, drown-proofing.

He was at a loss as to exactly how to motivate her by using his own experiences on this very course.

Should he tell her that as candidates they had to climb up the platforms without aid of the ladder, so she should consider herself lucky? Would that be helpful? Probably not.

Above him, Shelly drew in a big shaky breath and let it out.

Uh, oh. He figured that was the O-course equivalent of a death rattle. Her prelude to ringing out. Her final breath before she gave up and they had to tie a harness to her and lower her to the ground.

He was formulating an inspirational pep talk, a last gasp effort to help his partner get through this, when she began moving.

Fast. Climbing the ladder like a woman possessed.

He didn’t know what had gotten into her, but he wasn’t going to question it. She reached the first platform and kept going without slowing down.

They passed the second platform and were on the way to the third when he called up to her, “Stop and stand on the next platform. You’ll access the fast rope from there.”

She didn’t answer but did as he’d said.

By the time he pulled himself up onto the third of the four tower platforms she was waiting. Pressed up against one of the support beams far from the edge, but at least she was there and upright.

That would have to be good enough for a start. Now to get her to the rope and down to the ground.

With his dreams of that prize money fading fast he moved to her. “You all right?”

She nodded. It was a quick stiff movement of just her head that made her look like she was in a back brace. He needed to shake her up a bit. Get her out of her own head.

He pressed her face between his palms. Her eyes, the same color as the sky that surrounded them, met his as he leaned close. “You can do this. I’m gonna do it with you.”

She swallowed hard and gave him another tiny, terrified nod.

“What got into you that you started climbing so fast?” he asked, unable to control his curiosity.

“I just wanted to be done.”

He raised a brow. “Good. That’s the attitude. And guess what? The hard part is done. Now is the easy part. You’ll be on the ground in a few seconds. You just have to get down that rope.”

That didn’t seem to pacify her.

“You want me to go first and you follow me?”

That elicited an energetic head shake. “No. Stay with me.”

“Okay. I’ll go behind you then. Keep your eyes on the rope. Don’t look up at me. But know that I’ll be there right above you.”

They fast roped in secession as a team. All they needed was a yard or two between them to make sure the guy on the ground got clear before the next guy hit bottom.

Of course, with the speed—or lack thereof—with which Shelly moved, there was a good chance he’d be hanging up there on the rope for way too long just waiting for her to go.

He handed her the smaller of the two pairs of gloves he’d grabbed from the box the production crew had left at the bottom for them to use.

After pulling on his own pair and watching her pull on hers, he repeated what the instructors had ingrained in him years ago, “Strong hand. Weak hand. Hook the foot. Turn and go.”

He reached for the rope, pulling it to him where he stood on the platform to demonstrate the technique for her while repeating the command, adding, “You’re going to let the rope slide through your gloved hands. You can control your speed with your foot and knee pressure against the rope.”

Still holding the rope with one hand, he said, “Your turn. Repeat the command back to me.”

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