The Last Second (A Brit in the FBI #6)(42)
The pilot turned, gave them a thumbs-up. “The cavalry is on their way. Let’s get closer and see what we can do in the meantime.”
Nicholas counted off. “Five dots, must be the life rafts, and something metal. Is that some sort of personal submarine?”
Mike could see more clearly now, laughed. “Broussard is a gazillionaire, of course he has a submarine. Hallelujah, we’ve found them.”
The chopper pilot brought them closer, hovering directly over the water, only a few hundred feet away so his rotors didn’t cause any damage. Mike could see men and women in the boats cheering and high-fiving each other, could see Grant and Jean-Pierre Broussard waving from the sub.
No, wait, the people in the rafts were shouting, some screaming, pointing. But Mike didn’t turn in time to see a massive wave rising behind them, black and churning, and it smashed into the side of the chopper.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
T-MINUS 41 HOURS
The hit sent Mike forward against the pilot. She didn’t have time to think, time to recognize what was happening, she felt only the sickening sense of falling, then tumbling and spinning. She realized the chopper was whirling around, now on its side. Before she could scream, she was hit with a ton of water, in her nose, in her mouth, ripping at her clothes. She held on to her harness for dear life. She felt Nicholas’s hand gripping her arm and knew he wouldn’t let go.
They hit the surface of the sea hard, and the chopper flipped over entirely. Suddenly, everything was dark. She realized Nicholas had ripped off her headset and was yelling in her ear. She shook her head against the knowledge they were in a helicopter and now it was upside down and so were they, and they were going down. The helicopter wasn’t flooded yet, but it would be in minutes. She smelled smoke. How could that be? They were underwater and a fire had started? But she could smell the smoke, could feel the heat. Mike panicked, jerking frantically at her harness, but it wouldn’t unlock, she was stuck there, hanging upside down, the flames coming closer, then Nicholas pulled out a knife and sliced through the thick nylon, and she fell out of her seat into his arms. She could see the pilot slouched over, his head bent at a completely wrong angle. His neck was broken and she knew he was dead, but still she screamed, “Musa is hurt, we have to help him!”
“We have to get out, do you hear me? The pilot’s dead, the chopper is going to sink, there’s only a bit of air left. We have to swim for it. The door is right here. Come on, Mike. You can do it. Suck in a big breath.”
She was frozen, and then her survival instincts kicked in and she was moving. The water was already up to her chest, dark and so very cold, and under that water was death.
She calmed, heard him say, “The door is below us, you’re going to have to lie down in the dome of the chopper to get out, but I’ve got you.” Nicholas threw a life jacket over her head and fastened it around her waist, yanked the cord so it inflated, then pulled her deeper into the dark water, shouted, “Hurry, hurry, deep breaths, here we go. The floatation device will help you rise up, but big breath, I’m not sure how far under we are. Let’s go.”
She knew there was no choice. The water was frigid, and then, suddenly, she was free of the helicopter, and the puffed-up life vest strained against the rapid movement of the water. She didn’t know if they were rising or falling, she couldn’t see, she couldn’t breathe. Her ears felt like they were going to explode. She fought down the panic, fought to keep the air in her lungs. Nicholas had a hard hold of her hand and she felt him tug, so she started to kick, kicked for her life, praying they’d surface.
Nicholas had the third life vest in his hand. He used his teeth to tear open the ripcord, ignored the rush of salt water into his nose. It inflated in a stream of bubbles and was enough to help propel them faster toward the surface. Moments later, though it felt like hours, they burst out of the water into the open sea. He yanked Mike to the surface behind him, grabbed her arms, held her as they both coughed out water, their eyes stinging from the salt.
He remembered his god-awful fear that he’d lost her in that lake in Italy, but not this time, no way was he going to lose her again. She was pale and it scared him to his gut. “Are you all right? Mike, are you all right?”
When Mike heaved a huge breath, coughed out water, got a fresh mouthful of freezing cold salt and brine, she managed to whisper, “I’m alive and well, Nicholas. Tell me you’re okay, too?”
“Oh yes, I’m marvelous.” Then they rode up the wall of a ridiculously high wave and crashed down the other side. No anchor, no way to control anything, they were at the mercy of the gigantic waves.
Nicholas kept talking to her, nonsense, really, holding her as close as the life vests would allow. “This is some adventure, hadn’t planned on this part, but well—”
Another massive wave lifted them, and threw them down into the trough. She hadn’t trained for this, it was nothing she’d ever imagined. She couldn’t speak, just held on to Nicholas for dear life. Nicholas had a cut over his eye, blood was streaming down his face, but he still had a hold of her—and he kept talking about this surprise adventure. Then she realized he’d tied them together somehow—and now he was shouting. He sounded happy.
Happy?
She realized he was yelling, “We made it, we made it! We’re going to be okay!”