THE GROUND CAME UP FAST. She hit hard. A sharp pain seized her left leg when her body struck the packed soil. It jolted her. A gust of air filled the grounded parachute, dragging her across the rough desert surface. Ashley yanked on the cords trying to pull the yellow nylon canopy flat, but the chute skittered across the land dragging her like a fallen rider caught in the stirrup of a runaway horse. Ashley grappled with the harness buckle, but couldn't break it loose. Seconds later her movement across the rough ground stopped.
In the dark Ashley fought to free herself. She felt blood on her right hand cut by the parachute cords. It made the buckle on the harness slippery. When it gave way, she rolled free and lay motionless on her right side. In the dim moonlight she saw the parachute snagged on a stand of prickly pear cactus, portions still billowing in the wind.
The smoky clouds parted showing a splendid array of stars scattered across the sky. Her breathing slowed and her heartbeat tumbled back to something close to normal.
Suddenly a blinding flash of light stuck her eyes. She covered them with her bloody hand. A thunderous roar assaulted her ears, then a gush of searing hot air knocked her flat. When the shock wave passed, she rolled forward facing the horizon. A ball of flame grew like a fiery fountain shooting out of the ground unfolding upwards–a magnificent and horrifying sight of deadly fireworks. Then the glow faded, and finally evaporated leaving a smudge of graying smoke, trailing off into the distance. She had witnessed what should have been her death.
Ashley became aware of the cold desert soil beneath her and countless pricks of pain and soreness. Her left ankle throbbed, announcing a new serious injury.
She tried to sit and look at her leg, but the effort taxed what little strength she had. She fell back on the ground hitting her head. That brought back the persistent ach she had lived with this long day and night. Staring at the sky Ashley saw tiny star lights begin to spin in circles. She lost track of her place in time and space. As darkness drifted over her, she thought of her mother and of Walter.
CAPTAIN MIKE PORTER pulled himself into the cockpit of the aging Kiowa reconnaissance helicopter. Much like the aircraft he was about to fly, he had been around a long time, starting with the first Iraq war. Today his gray hair still stood in a close-cropped buzz cut, but his airman's uniform fit a bit tighter than it used to. The sun, still below the horizon, cast a hint of daylight across the shrouded land. Not enough light for Mike to see his instruments clearly, but he didn't need to see them. He knew them like a doctor knows his surgical procedures. The copter fired up, and the twin blades began beating the air, producing that familiar pounding sound. He checked with the base tower, than lifted off, veering north into the Nevada desert.
His mission was to fly a pattern over the terrain north from Nellis AFB to restricted area R4807-B while searching for any anomalies. When he approached ground zero he would check for elevated radioactivity levels and report his findings. As he climbed to an altitude of a thousand feet, he glanced over his shoulder at the lights of North Las Vegas. He always marveled at how abrupt civilization ended and the ancient desert claimed the land.
Sunlight spread across the flat countryside causing the stark features of the ground to come alive. Mike began flying his east-west pattern with each pass, covering a swath of land about five miles wide. He worked his way north, nose down to give him an open view. On his fifth pass he saw a bright yellow patch off to the right. He swerved toward it and dropped down to 500 feet, then 200. His first pass proved it was not a natural feature. On his second pass he spotted what looked like a human form lying near the colored spot. He circled and then landed, shut down the engine, and unbuckled. The rotation of the blades slowed. Mike kept his eyes on the object while he strapped on his sidearm and jumped to the ground. As he walked forward, he saw a movement and started to run.
Mike Porter had seen plenty of blood in the past, but never got used to it. The woman sprawled on the ground reminded him of those bad old days. He glanced up and spotted the parachute pinned to a clump of cactus, and then knelt down and touched the woman gently. "Can you hear me?
A vacant stare slowly focused on him. She spoke with a weak voice, "Is that you, Walter?"
Mike took his flight jacket off, folded it, and put it under her head–a head matted with dried blood. He saw cuts and bruises all over her exposed body, and a foot bent at an odd angle. He paused for a second, but couldn't think of anything more to do, except get help.
He ran to the chopper, leaped into the cockpit, and turned on the radio. He immediately identified himself, gave his co-ordinances, and called for a medivac unit. "Make it quick. She needs medical help right now." Mike grabbed a bottle of water and ran back, hoping the medics would get there in time. He offered the woman water, which she drank in small sips when she drifted into consciousness.
Fifteen minutes later the Black Hawk set down ten yards away and two medics hit the ground hunched down under the whirling blades. Mike got out of their way fast. Both men assessed Ashley's condition and motioned for a portable gurney. Two more medics arrived and the four lifted her onto the gurney and dashed for their helicopter. Mike timed the operation. Landing to lift off took fewer than six minutes. The Black Hawk headed for the base hospital.
ASHLEY BECAME AWARE that people were helping her. She heard the steady sound of the chopper blades beat the air and felt strong hands moving her. Her pain eased, and then disappeared. Voices shouted over the noise. She felt a thump when the chopper set down. Men in desert khakis lifted her. She felt cool air. A hand touched her shoulder, and a man's voice said, "You're in the base hospital. You're going to be okay, Miss."
Base hospital. I'm in a hospital–they can help me?
Awake now, she raised her head. There were plastic bags of fluid hanging from metal hooks above, tubes dangled down, feeding an IV taped to her left hand. She watched white walls roll by her and felt the vibration of movement. A woman, a nurse or doctor in a white coat, leaned over. "The commandant has ordered a private room for you. Colonel Myers is waiting."
Ashley tried to make sense of what was happening to her. Her pain had vanished so she must be all right, but if she was all right what was she doing in a hospital? And, why a special room? She felt the sheet under her move. Two nurses pulled her off the gurney onto a stationary bed; then they transferred the plastic bags of fluids.
A man, a uniformed officer with colored ribbons pinned to his chest stepped to her side and smiled down at her. "Good morning, Ms. Kohen, welcome to the Nellis Air Force Base Hospital. We have prepared for your arrival. I'm Colonel Myers, Deputy to General Brunel, the base commander."
Ashley looked up. "How do you know my name?"
"Oh, we know all about you, Ms. Kohen." He said with a faint smile.
She turned her head to the side. "Then you must know I'm with the FBI."
"Yes, of course. Of course. That's why the general has assigned you this room and will post two guards at your door."
"Guards?"
"Yes, Ms. Kohen." Myers dropped the smile. "The general has asked that I place you in protective custody."
"Protective custody?"
"Yes, for your protection."
Ashley's eyes widened. "Protection from what?"
"General Brunel feels it's in your best interest that you be kept safe for now. We'll take good care of you. You've had quite an adventure." Myers face remained passive as he backed away. As he left the room, he mumbled something to the guards. They exchanged salutes.
What the hell is going on? She lifted her head to see if her "guards" were facing the hallway. The nurse came into the room. "Okay, my dear. We have to get you out of those dirty clothes and clean you up." She started to pull off the sheet.
"I need a drink of water. If that's possible, please?" Ashley assumed a pitiful expression.
"Why of course, dear. I'll be right back–don't you worry."
Ashley watched as the nurse left, then went for Bashir’s phone lodged in her right pants pocket. She pulled it out, woke it up, and then tapped the Settings feature. It searched for a Wi-Fi signal. Her hand trembled while she waited. Come on, damn it. The fan shaped icon lit up. She tapped quickly with her thumb, and held the phone up to her face.
When the nurse arrived with a cup of water, the phone was back in her pocket.