Читать книгу At His Service: Her Boss the Hero: One Night With Her Boss / Her Very Special Boss / The Surgeon's Marriage Proposal - Алисон Робертс - Страница 5

‘I WON’T do it.’

‘Won’t do what? Hey, wait up, Tama!’

Tama James covered his head with a determined shove of his helmet. He scowled at his partner, Josh, as he swung himself into the rescue helicopter waiting for them on the tarmac, its rotors already turning.

‘I just won’t do it and that’s that.’

‘Nice attitude, mate.’ The chopper pilot, Steve, grinned at Tama. ‘I’ll just radio ahead and let the cops know so they can tell that poor blighter in the car that’s rolled off the hill, shall I?’

‘I’m not talking about the job.’ Tama snapped his safety belt on.

Josh clicked his microphone into place. ‘He’s talking about whatever just went down in the station manager’s office. You should’ve seen his face when he came out of that meeting.’

Steve requested clearance, got the helicopter airborne and quickly turned onto a flight path that would lead them to the accident site—their fifth and hopefully last callout for the day.

‘What aren’t you going to do, then?’ he asked a couple of minutes later.

Tama made a growling sound that was magnified by the communication channel built into their helmets.

‘Babysitting,’ he said disgustedly.

‘I don’t get it.’ Josh sounded puzzled. ‘Weren’t you having a meeting with the boss and Trev Elliot?’

‘Sir Trevor?’ Steve whistled. ‘Doesn’t he own the finance company that funds this rescue service?’

‘Yes on both counts,’ Tama responded gloomily.

‘So what’s that got to do with babysitting?’

‘Sir Trevor has a daughter.’ Tama made the word sound like an unfortunate encumbrance. ‘One who’s decided she likes the idea of joining our service.’

‘And?’

‘And we’re not that far from Broken Hills.’ Tama clicked the mouse on his laptop. ‘I’ll check the GPS co-ordinates for the incident.’

‘Not required,’ Steve told him. ‘I can see beacons.’ He banked the helicopter into another turn. ‘Police, fire service and ambulance are already on site, they just can’t bring the victim up from the vehicle.’

They circled over the scene. A car had left the road and lay, upside down, several hundred metres from any kind of level surface. It was good for the helicopter crew that there were no trees on the hillside but the car must have been travelling at a good speed by the time it had hit the rocky outcrop, which wasn’t so good for the occupant. Emergency service personnel had scrambled down the hillside but it was obvious that conditions were tricky.

Tama pushed thought of Sir Trevor’s daughter from his head.

‘Definitely a winch job,’ he announced. ‘No way anyone could carry a stretcher up that hill.’

‘And we’re well over thirty minutes’ drive from the nearest hospital.’ Josh was also peering downwards as they hovered. ‘Nappy or stretcher for the winch?’

‘Let’s find out.’ Tama changed radio channels to put him in touch with the ground ambulance crew. ‘Update on status and injuries?’ he requested.

‘Open fracture of the femur. Chest and abdo injuries.’

‘Status?’

‘Two. His breathing’s painful, though. A few broken ribs at least. BP’s down. Moderate blood loss—he wasn’t found for a while. We’ve got fluids up, pain relief on board and a traction splint in place.’

‘Excellent. We’ll be with you asap.’ He didn’t need to confer with Josh to decide that a stretcher was necessary. It might be a lot quicker and easier to pick someone up with a nappy harness but this victim’s injuries were too severe to make that an option.

Steve had widened his circle as Tama was talking. ‘We can put down here and empty the back,’ he said. ‘The less weight the better with the way this wind’s picking up.’

Emergency-vehicle beacons twinkled from a distance as the light faded and Steve put the helicopter down on a nearby hill. Tama and Josh worked swiftly to remove the fitted stretcher, seats and any equipment not needed for the initial stages of this rescue mission. The more weight on board, the higher the risk of being caught in a downdraft. Dropping a hundred feet or more when you had a patient on a stretcher and a crew member dangling from the aircraft would be a disaster.

The task completed, Tama checked his gear and winch harness and climbed into his new position in the back of the chopper, ready for Josh to winch him down to the accident scene. Thanks to treatment already given by paramedics, there was no need to ready the trauma pack for deployment.

‘Ninety seconds,’ Steve commended as they lifted off again. ‘Not bad!’

Tama’s quick glance and raised eyebrow at Josh was a shorthand ‘thumbs-up’ signal. They were a slick team all right, and a lot of that efficiency came from a combination of experience and physical strength.

Neither of which Trevor Elliot’s daughter would possess.

The mental tug back to that extraordinary interview was not only annoying, it refused to get entirely banished and niggled away in the back of Tama’s mind.

‘Turning downwind,’ Steve announced.

‘Roger. Secure aft.’ Josh had checked the winch was operational. He was ready for the job. More than ready. Tama could almost see an aura of adrenaline around his colleague.

‘I have the target.’ He glanced at Tama and, satisfied his crewmate was as ready as he was, he turned to the winch control panel. ‘Checking winch power.’

On this final run, there shouldn’t have been any time at all to think outside the protocol. He’d done this a hundred times or more. Stepping into an arctic blast of air. Bracing himself. Leaning out—knowing how much space there was between his back and the ground below.

‘Clear skids,’ Josh confirmed. ‘Clear to boom out.’

‘Clear.’

Tama relaxed into his harness as the weight was taken and he got lowered to just below the skids.

The lightweight stretcher between his legs obscured his vision of what lay below. For now, he was totally dependent on Josh and Steve for his position and safety.

His own adrenaline levels kicked up several notches. He turned inwards to summon the calm strength that never failed him. This was no job for anyone who couldn’t face the fear and do it anyway.

He wouldn’t go as far as to say it was no job for a woman but she’d have to be an exceptional specimen.

Trevor Elliot’s daughter?

A princess whose bra size probably exceeded her IQ? Not a snowball’s chance in hell.

Dusk was a favourite time for fitness enthusiasts to hit the circuit built into the outskirts of Hagley Park in Christchurch.

Swinging from the rungs of a horizontal ladder—her feet well off the ground—was a slim woman with a determined expression on her face and curly blonde hair that was tied back in a ponytail damp with perspiration.

‘Give it a break, Mikki.’ A man stood to one side of the structure, bent forward, with his hands on his thighs as he tried to catch his breath. ‘This is embarrassing.’

Mikki hung on the last rung for a moment. She grinned down at her running companion and then refocussed, sucking in a breath and then expelling it as she pulled her body upwards. Once … twice … The burn in muscles in her arms and shoulders increased to real pain. Once more for luck and then she dropped to the ground, bending her knees to cushion the impact.

‘Ready, slug?’

The man groaned but caught up with Mikki’s steady jog as she continued along the track, past runners going in the opposite direction, cyclists heading home from work and the slower obstacles of people walking their dogs.

‘There’s no stopping you, is there?’

Mikki had taken another detour a few minutes later, to use fat stumps of wood as stepping blocks.

‘Not today, that’s for sure. I’m so excited!’

‘Yeah … I noticed.’

‘We can do our stretches now.’

‘Hallelujah!’

They shared the massive trunk of an ancient oak tree for support. Mikki bent one leg up behind her and held it to stretch her quads.

‘I still can’t believe it, John. They’re going to let me have a go at joining air rescue. Choppers!’

‘So you’ve said. More than once.’ The admonition was tempered with a fond tone. ‘Good luck. Not that you’ll need it.’

‘I don’t know about that.’ Mikki swapped to her other leg. ‘The pre-requisite physical assessment is tough enough to wipe out well over half the people who apply and I’ve never even heard of a female that’s made it through.’

‘If anyone can, you can.’ John was stretching his Achilles tendon now. ‘Damn shame it means you have to shift north, though. We’ll miss you.’

‘I’ll miss you guys, too, but this is … this is huge for me, John. This is what I’ve wanted ever since … Good grief, do you know I started dreaming about this when I was sixteen? Twelve years ago!’ Mikki couldn’t stop the grin spreading across her face. ‘And I’ve made it. Isn’t it great?’

‘You really want to give up being an emergency department doctor to work as a paramedic? In helicopters?’

‘I would have gone straight into the ambulance service instead of medical school, you know, but Dad wouldn’t hear of it. He wasn’t exactly happy when I told him I wanted to join Médecins Sans Frontières either. He’s going to hit the roof when he finds out the kind of frontline training I’m going to do for the next few months.’

‘Will he try to stop you?’

‘I don’t think so.’ Mikki put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her elbow to extend the stretch. ‘I reckon I’ve finally convinced him how important my career is to me. He can’t wrap me in cotton wool for ever.’

‘From what I’ve heard, your dad can do anything he likes. Hey, doesn’t his company practically own air rescue services up north?’

‘One of them funds the service, yes.’ A frown appeared on Mikki’s face. ‘And I’ll make sure that isn’t public knowledge. I’ve earned the right to try out for this team. God knows, I’ve trained hard enough and applied often enough. If anyone suggests it’s come from strings being pulled, I’ll give them a black eye.’

John laughed. ‘Yeah … right!’

‘I’m serious.’ Mikki straightened to her full height which was, unfortunately, only five feet two. ‘I’m going to do this, John, and I’m going to do it all by myself. Just watch this space!’

The messroom of the air rescue base lay between the manager’s office, where the walls were covered in maps and communication equipment occupied the space between desk and filing cabinets, and a hangar that housed two state-of-the-art, MBB-Kawasaki BK-117 helicopters. Referred to as simply ‘the mess’, its title was appropriate.

At one end of the large space was an entertainment area with a wide-screen television and comfortable armchairs big enough to sleep in. At the other end, a small kitchen provided facilities for snacks and meals. As usual, the bench space was cluttered with unwashed mugs, milk cartons that hadn’t made it back to the fridge and leftover fast-food containers. The laminated surface of the dining table was virtually invisible thanks to the wealth of emergency medicine journals, memos, magazines and a well spread-out daily newspaper.

Two men were standing on the same side of the table, leaning forward as they perused the front page of the newspaper. A good third of that page was taken up with a photograph that could well win some photography award for the year.

Taken with a high-powered zoom lens from the roadside, the photographer seemed almost level with the chopper and virtually close enough to touch it. Steve was clearly intent on the control panel of the craft. Josh was perched in the side door with both feet on the lower skid, his safety harness pulled tight as he leaned out to take hold of the harness cradling the stretcher.

Tama’s position was elegant. One hand held the pole at the rear of the side hatch, pushing his body and the stretcher holding their patient away from the skids as he positioned the burden. Josh was about to take hold of the head end of the stretcher to guide it into the back of the helicopter.

For some reason, Tama had glanced up as the photograph was taken. Maybe he had been checking the carabina linking the stretcher harness strop to the winch. His expression was serious enough to convey the drama of the moment.

It was also easily recognisable.

Josh dug his colleague in the ribs with his elbow. ‘You’re famous now, mate. The chicks will be queuing up.’

‘Are you suggesting they don’t already?’

Josh snorted but then grinned. ‘At least it’s put you in a better mood today.’

‘Nah.’ Tama straightened and turned towards the bench. ‘I’m in a really bad mood, actually.’

‘Why?’

‘Apparently Princess Mikayla arrives today. Got any red carpet handy?’ Tama opened a cupboard to reveal an empty shelf. With a grimace, he picked up a dirty mug and stepped to the sink.

‘Why?’ Josh repeated. ‘We’re not due for any pre-requisite challenges for ages. Isn’t four the minimum number of applicants before we even schedule a course?’

‘This one’s special.’ Tama wrinkled his nose as he emptied long abandoned coffee down the plughole. He turned on the hot tap. ‘I have to babysit from the get-go. Make sure she doesn’t break a single, precious fingernail.’

‘If she’s worried about her nails, she won’t get far with the pre-requisite.’

‘No.’ Tama searched for a teaspoon at the bottom of the sink and sounded far more cheerful. ‘And that way, my friend, lies the light at the end of this tunnel.’

‘You mean, she can’t do the physical assessment until we get enough applicants?’

‘Nah. I’m going to do it with her. I’ll be the assessor and the competition.’

Josh looked thoughtful. ‘You’re not planning to make this assessment impossible to pass by any chance, are you?’

‘Of course not.’ Tama’s expression was innocent. ‘It’s a tough enough call as it stands.’

‘You’re not kidding. The ten circuits of those steep grandstand stairs in less than ten minutes just about did me in.’

‘Then there’s the forty push-ups and forty sit-ups.’

‘The hundred-metre swim and treading water for ten minutes.’

‘And don’t forget the twenty-kilo pack run.’ Tama grinned at Josh. ‘Hey, I’ll just be doing my job. Won’t be my problem if she’s not up to scratch.’

Josh shook his head in warning. ‘Don’t go out of your way to put the boss’s nose out of joint, will you? We’ll all catch the flak if you do.’

Tama spooned coffee granules into his clean mug. ‘The way I see it, I’ll be saving us all a hell of a lot of time and trouble if her highness doesn’t make the grade for any further training.’

Josh sighed. ‘So what you’re really saying is that you’re planning to break her and dump her in one easy move.’

Tama merely raised his eyebrow with a ‘neither confirm nor deny’ expression. Then he turned on his most charming smile. ‘Want a coffee, mate?’

The newspaper cutting was in the back pocket of a rather snug pair of jeans and knowing it was there was making Mikayla Elliot uncharacteristically flustered.

She hadn’t expected to find that her assigned mentor was none other than the hero who had been splashed over the front page of today’s paper.

The image had been impressive enough. That look of ferocious concentration combined with a calm confidence on the face of a man at the pinnacle of a career that had always been a fantasy job for Mikki. It was the whole image that had prompted her to cut the picture out like some starstruck teenager, however. The aircraft, the crew, the patient and—as a blurry backdrop—a wrecked vehicle in hostile terrain.

But it had only been one man’s face that had been visible in the picture and that man was now standing right in front of her. As large as life.

No … larger. Tama James towered over Mikki by at least twelve inches and he was probably twice her body weight.

With no helmet, the slightly too long dark curls of his hair made a luxuriantly soft-looking frame for his face. The dark olive skin and almost black eyes suggested he was a good part Maori and that impression was heightened by the fact that he wasn’t wearing overalls and just below the sleeve of his black T-shirt his upper arm was encircled by an ethnic tattoo that looked like a series of waves between intricate borders.

What would he think if he knew that a picture of himself was currently nestled against Mikki’s right buttock?

The level of disdain she thought she could detect in those dark eyes would go through the roof, that’s what.

‘Sorry?’ Wondering how secure that scrap of folded paper was in her pocket had actually made Mikki miss something Tama was saying.

His look remained level. His face deadpan. As though he had expected nothing less than an inability to concentrate from what he saw in front of him.

Mikki wished she had tied her shoulder-length hair back. Worn something a lot less figure-hugging than the jeans and top she had on beneath her jacket. She wished she was six inches taller and a good deal heavier.

Standing near Tama made her feel weirdly … fragile. Like a doll. Was it because of his size and the aura of power he exuded or was it simply a reflection of what he was seeing?

‘I just asked about your level of fitness.’

‘Oh …’ Mikki cleared her throat. It wasn’t easy to hold eye contact with this man but, dammit, she had to find and hang onto some self-confidence somehow. ‘It’s OK, I guess.’

‘It’ll need to be.’ The other man in this incredibly messy boys’ zone the station manager had brought her to was grinning. At least Josh was friendly. Or was he?

‘The assessment’s a bit of a killer,’ he added. ‘You might want to have a few days in the gym to get ready for it. You should probably—’

Tama quelled his partner’s advice with just a look. ‘My only free day off is tomorrow.’ He turned his gaze back to Mikki. ‘You up for it?’

Mikki stared back. She could see a gleam in his eyes and it wasn’t the kind of gleam she was accustomed to seeing in the eyes of men. This was … smug, that’s what it was.

He didn’t think she had a chance of making the grade.

He thought she was wasting his time.

Any remnants of her smile faded.

‘You bet,’ she told Tama. ‘Just tell me where and when.’