Page 66 of Operation Rescue
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.
Chapter 34
He touched the bird down so lightly Erin wasn’t even sure they had landed until he ripped off the headphones and reached for the door handle. She echoed his action, on instinct alone hanging on to the binoculars. By the time her feet hit the dirt beneath the helicopter’s skids, Blaine was already running toward the car parked almost hidden under what she could now see was a live oak. There was no sign of any other people close by, kids or adults.
She bent a little as she followed, not even sure if she needed to dodge the rotor but remembering one of Blaine’s earliest lessons. She tried to visualize the map, estimate how far they were from the park entrance and the more frequented areas. She thought a long way—enough to make it a good place to hide—but the rolling hills made it hard to judge.
She got to the parked car just as Blaine, who had been walking around the area next to the half-hidden vehicle, crouched down beside what looked like a roughly made firepit. She glanced at the car, saw there was a bumper sticker on the left rear. Something about coexisting, ironically. But it made it even more likely that the scratched and dinged vehicle was the one they’d been looking for. A quick glance showed her there was nothing immediately visible inside, at least in the way of clothes or backpacks—Ethan’s backpack in particular.
