Page 38 of Raven's Curse
Kash leaned back in the seat, crossing his feet at the ankles. Looking way too relaxed. “Is that what you call this? Because you’re practically frothing at the mouth.”
Kash sighed when Chase flipped him off. “She’ll be okay. She has Eli with her. Guy’s hardcore. He’ll have her back.”
“He’d better because I’ll hand him his ass if she gets hurt on his watch.”
“Annnnnd he’s back.”
“Shut up.” He fiddled with the edge of his harness. “I know Greer can handle herself, but this guy…”
Kash shifted until he had his elbows braced on his knees. “It’s all pretty dark. And we’d understand if you need to focus on watching her six for a while. We can always get Seth or Randy to sub-in if trying to divide your attention gives you a freaking aneurism.”
“Greer’s going to give me the aneurism. And I’m not tapping out. I just need her to consider her own damn safety for once. She seems to think she’s bulletproof.”
“Then, it’s a good thing she’s got the hots for a medic.”
“The hots? Seriously, Kash?”
“Don’t hate the messenger.” His expression sobered. “She’s crazy about you. You know that, right?”
Chase snorted, nodding when Foster glanced over his shoulder and gave him the one-minute sign. “She was. Not sure she’s looking for anything other than my ass in a sling right now.”
“Maybe if you keep your head out of it like when you held her back at the station, she’ll pivot again. Though, I agree she needs to take better care of herself. I swore she was going to tank before you caught her.”
“And yet, I bet she still hasn’t eaten anything.” He stood when Foster started bleeding off some speed, heaving his medic bag onto his back before reaching for the flexible litter, only to have Kash grab it first.
Kash tsked. “You can get the doors.”
Chase huffed, then opened the doors. Deep shadows engulfed the coastline, the last vestiges of light quickly fading along the horizon. He switched on his headlamp, scouring the cliffside — searching for a trace of their victim.
His comm unit crackled, then Foster’s voice. “Got her. About fifty feet down at your ten o’clock.”
Chase nodded as her limp form materialized in the strong beam. “Copy. Looks like her jacket snagged on a branch. Kept her from falling all the way down. Not sure how long she has before that wood snaps.”
Kash clicked his mic. “I can rappel to that small opening just north of her. Limit the downwash. I’ll set up anchors and send down a line. Have Nyx patrol the immediate area just in case we’re not alone. Once the rope’s ready, Chase can lower directly to her location then clip in. Assess the situation. Either way, it’s not going to be pretty.”
Foster gave them a thumb’s up. “Saylor and Zain are coming in fast. She said this area’s full of shoals and rocks, but she’ll get in close in case things go sideways. Her usual insane tactics. Just be careful and take appropriate firepower with you.”
Kash scrunched up his face as he tapped his weapon. “When don’t we.”
The rotor wash buffeted the cliff, thundering against the stone face as Foster brought the bird into a hover. Nose angled into the wind, Kash’s rope snapping in the swirling drafts as it fell out the open doors, hitting the small patch of dirt below them. His buddy gave a mock salute, then launched forward, sailing down the line, one hand working the rope, the other holding his rifle. He landed a few seconds later, cleared the area, then unclipped Nyx.
A few quick movements, and the rope slipped free, curling in the spiraling vortex before Chase reeled it in. Foster held his position until Kash had three anchor points set, the litter roped and ready with another line already tossed over the edge, fluttering in the wind a few feet from their patient.
Chase clicked his mic as Foster repositioned the chopper. “Heading down. I’ll transfer as quickly as possible, so we don’t risk blowing her off the cliff.”
“Roger, and buddy…” Foster looked back across his shoulder, not budging an inch as he held everything steady. “Watch your damn six.”
“Here’s hoping Zain’s got his game on, just in case.”
Chase took a breath, then stepped off the skid, the rope humming through his hand, his boots skimming the air. Seagulls called nearby, his headlamp cutting a circle through the encroaching darkness as he approached the narrow ledge, the beam illuminating the pale rock.
The woman slumped against a pile of branches, her bleach blonde hair glowing in the harsh light. Chase slowed his approach, timing his landing with the gusting wind. He hit the stone boots first, scrambling for a hold before the downwash compromised her safety.
It took a couple tries to reach the other rope before he had it clipped through his carabiner, releasing his tether to the chopper.
Chase clicked his mic. “I’m clear.”
Foster didn’t waste a second, banking left, hugging the rock wall before heading off — circling nearby until they needed a pickup.
