part0024

Flames sent black smoke billowing out of the helicopter’s tail. A massive spruce, upended along the opposite side of the newly formed ridge line, dipped low into the divide. The tail rotor got caught up in the tree's branches. Hundred-year-old roots gave the tree enough strength to hold the helicopter, at least for the time being.

On the ground, Babz collected herself. The quake had thrown rock and debris everywhere, and it took her a moment to make heads or tails of the world. A trickle of blood under her eye warmed her right cheek.

As her teammates were taking stock of themselves, Babz looked around to see who was missing. The two injured, Cruise and Hertzog, were still safe within the helicopter. Wren gave a thumbs up.

The shriek of twisting metal rang out. Babz spun. The other Blackhawk, the one containing Hoop and the body of the deceased Taylor, was hanging off the edge of a newly formed chasm. Without a moment's hesitation, Babz jumped up and raced into action.

Babz grimaced at the sting in her leg. She looked down and saw a thin shard of metal sticking out below her knee. She detached herself from the pain and focused on the fact that it looked like a drinking straw. Reaching down, she yanked it out. The warm blood rolling down her leg and into her boot made her pulse pound louder, but she pressed on.

She skidded to a stop when she came to the edge of the crash site. What was she dealing with here? She edged herself closer to the helicopter. The bird was hung up between the branches of the broken tree and the deep, gnarled roots that were still holding it all together. Splintered wood reached out over the crevasse like a giant arm cradling a crushed toy. The mangled remains of the helicopter pointed nose down into the dark hole. From Babz’s current position, she saw no signs of life. An arm hung loosely from the side of the chopper’s open door. Working her way to the helicopter, she checked it first to see if it could carry any weight at all.

The tail was closest to her. With any luck, she could rappel down it to get a closer look inside. But as she tested the tail to see if her weight would cause the helicopter to tumble, the smoking metal groaned. It was too dangerous to work her way down the helicopter. She’d have to navigate the jagged bits of rock and debris. She was grateful that the ground was still cold enough to stay firm and not break apart in her hands. She climbed down until her body was parallel with the open side door and peered inside. There was movement.

Relief washed over her. "Can any of you climb out?"

The pilot unbuckled himself and then reached forward. As he put weight on his ankle, he screamed out loud. The bone was snapped. He fell into the cockpit area and slammed into the instrument panel. The helicopter shifted. The latch holding the stretcher released, and Taylor's body shot forward and out through the broken front windshield. The ginger haired Talon operator disappeared into the blackness below.

"Shit!" Wren yelled.

Hoop had been riding co-pilot. His body hung limp, his arms dangling forward toward the shattered front windshield. He remained unresponsive.

"Hoop!" Babz called out.

"Ah." Grunting and groaning,

"He’s still with us," Babz relayed.

"Tough son of a bitch," Medina said as he came up alongside Babz.

"I got him," the pilot said.

"No, you don't. You need to get out."

"I can’t leave him."

"Get yourself out. I’ll take care of Hoop. Can you climb up?" She could see the pilot wanted to argue the point further, but when he looked down at his shattered, unnaturally twisted ankle, he let the words fall silent and crawled forward. He made slow but steady progress up, working himself to the skid plate and over to the jagged ground. The exposed tree roots served as a makeshift ladder. Babz outstretched her hand. She and Medina hung over the cliff's face and pulled the pilot up the rest of the way.

Medina and Wren immediately went to work on triaging the pilot's injuries. The damage from the fall went far beyond the ankle to include broken ribs, head wounds, lacerations. The stench of blood and scorched flesh was overwhelming.

Medina had a laceration around the back of his left ear that painted the whole side of his neck red. His hand gripped Babz’s forearm tightly. "You sure you don't need my help?"

Babz managed a smirk. " I need you to get your ass patched up and trust me that I can bring Hoop out."

"I will.” He reached past her, but stopped. “And I do."

Medina climbed out as Babz climbed in. She worked her way down, easing to the front of the aircraft. A loud creak sounded. She heard the crack of wood splintering. Babz braced herself, grabbing onto a loose cargo strap as the chopper dropped about seven feet before catching on another root. Her stomach was in her throat until the momentum stopped. Not wasting a second, Babz worked herself toward the cockpit, trying not to think about the other creaks and groans growing around her.

She finally reached Hoop. He was still unconscious. A trickle of blood was coming out of his left ear, leading her to believe he must’ve banged his head. She couldn’t see any other sign of injury, but there was no rousing him. No, she had to do this all on her own. She gave the seatbelt a try. It didn’t budge. Knowing each precious second counted, Babz pulled out her knife and cut through it.

Next, she worked his body onto hers like a sloppy rucksack. She almost buckled under his dead weight. Digging deep, she clung to the adrenalin still surging through her veins. Babz hoisted the massive commander into place. Then, taking a line of parachute cord peeking out from one of the gear bags, she lashed it around them both, cinching it tight so that it bit under her armpits and pulled tightly under his, securing his torso to hers.

As she crawled forward bit by bit, she felt every ounce of his two-hundred-thirty-seven-pound frame. She willed the riotous noise of the teetering chopper to stop. She focused only on getting out alive. Babz concentrated on the steady sound of her breath. In for one, out for two. In for one, out for two.

She heard it again, her father’s voice, like he was there with her. It was almost as if she felt his strength as her boot pressed hard against the skid pad. A loud creak sounded and broke her concentration and forced her to look up. The root no longer held. The earthy arm holding the helicopter had given up its fight against the call of the crevasse's deep and unending darkness, and it pulled like a vortex.

Babz launched forward with all her might. She shot herself into the jagged rocky face of the cliff. Her grip waned, and she slipped down until her fingers grazed a hold and latched on. She held on and pressed her body tight to the cliff face until she had caught her breath. Then she began the arduous task of ascending the next twenty feet, one hand, then one foot at a time, all while carrying Hoop.

Her movements grew sluggish as adrenalin ebbed, and she felt the full weight of gravity working against her. Babz got her right hand atop the ledge. Her fingers sunk into slushy ice, but there was nowhere for her to get a grip. Hoop’s weight started tugging her back toward the darkness, toward the emptiness where the helicopter had fallen.

The crash that echoed up to her when it hit bottom was very far off, leaving no room for doubt. There would be no chance of survival if she didn’t make it over the ledge. She tried to push failure from her mind, but now instead of her breath, she felt her heartbeat’s rapid rhythm take over.

Her hands started slipping. She dug her fingernails into the ground, clawing at the solid earth. She could feel the dirt tearing her nails from her flesh. Babz held fast through the pain, until suddenly it was alleviated by Medina’s firm grip. With the other team members anchored behind him, they pulled Babz and Hoop the rest of the way out.

She collapsed on solid ground with her face buried in snow and exhaled for the first time in several minutes. The team quickly unhooked Hoop from her and transported him over to the one working helicopter, now a sea of wounded. Radio communications had gone out and several ambulances were on their way. Temporary first aid was being given to the members that needed it most until the paramedics arrived. Exhausted, Babz climbed to her feet and dusted herself off. Medina’s bright grin waited for her.

“Glad you made it.”

“Was there ever any doubt?” she shot back, returning his smile.

Medina clapped her on the back. “With you? Never.”

Babz thanked Medina, who went off to help the others while she caught her breath. She was still trying to wrap her mind around what just happened when movement caught her eye.

Babz looked across the gap. Hatch stood on the opposite side. Their eyes locked for a long moment. Hatch gave Babz a nod of her head before turning and disappearing deeper into the wooded area beneath the ice cap.

Babz continued to stare into the tree line, wondering if Hatch would return. She lingered a moment longer before she dusted herself off and went back to her teammates, her head held a bit higher.