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Authors: Clare Revell

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BOOK: Echo-Foxtrot
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“Her heart stopped for a minute. But the doc got it started again. She's got a long road ahead of her still. She's very, very sick, Nicky. The doc doesn't know if she'll survive.”

“This isn't fair—she's only sixteen. She can't die. I can't get her back only to lose her.” Someone brushed something across her face. “Lou? It's OK. I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere. I need you, Lou. Don't leave me on my own. I can't do this, Jack. It feels like I'm saying goodbye.”

****

Just after first light, Jim watched Jack leave the room at the end of the infirmary and glanced at Staci and Ailsa. They'd all been awake most of the night and now sat huddled on the one bed, waiting for news of Lou, which never came. “Jack, have you got a minute?” he called.

Jack smiled and walked across the room. “Hi. How are you guys doing? You're all up rather early.”

“We're worried about Lou. Where is she? They didn't bring her in last night.”

“They put her in intensive care. She's pretty sick.”

Staci gripped Jim's hand tightly. “How sick?”

“She stopped breathing in the OR,” Jack told them gently. “At the moment she is hooked up to machines that are breathing for her.”

Ailsa asked, “What about her leg?”

“The docs couldn't save it because the damage and infection was too great.”

“What did they do?” Jim asked, afraid of the answer.

“They amputated it.”

“Amputate?” Staci asked, not familiar with the term.

“Cut it off,” Jack explained. “From here.” He pointed to just above his knee.

Jim thumped the bed in frustration. “I should have turned back and made for land when it happened,” he said angrily. “I woke her up. I insisted she came with me, to pay her back for defacing the logbook. It's all my fault. And we still could have reached help months ago if I hadn't of wrecked the boat.”

“Enough already. Lou doesn't blame any of you. She blames herself. She told me that whilst we waited for the chopper to come back for us.”

“Will she be OK?” Ailsa asked.

“It's too early to tell.”

A man walked in and Jack smiled.

“Ed. Buddy. How are you?” The two men exchanged a bear hug. Jack thumped the other man on the back.

A big, imposing figure dressed in blue, he replied in a voice that matched his stature. “Fine. You?”

“Yeah. Great. Good vacation? How're Cathy and the baby?”

“Doing great, and I'd hardly call paternity leave a vacation. No sleep, endless diapers, constant feeds. The baby's wonderful, but then it's early days.”

Jack turned back to the others. “This is Sergeant Ed Peterson. He's been assigned to you while you are here. He'll escort you everywhere and answer any questions you may have and so on. He's one of the best. This is Jim, Staci, and Ailsa. OK, guys, I got to go do some work. Be good.”

“This can't be happening,” Staci said after Jack left. “I'm asleep and I shall wake up on the island in a minute.”

“Oh, it's real, kiddo.”

“Lou has to be OK. She has to be.”

Sergeant Peterson came over with a pile of clothes. He put them on the bed and handed them some each. “Nothing fancy and I had to guess at some of the sizes, but they should fit. Once you are dressed, you can go for breakfast. Your parents will be in a little later.”

Staci stood up. “Where's the bathroom?” she asked. Ailsa grabbed her clothes and followed as Sergeant Peterson led the way down the corridor.

Jim wandered across to the line of windows, curious as to what was there. Apparently the intensive-care unit was just across the hallway. It made sense having it relatively close to the nurses' station.

He could see Lou lying on the bed and felt guilty. She faced the rest of her life crippled because of him. Even though Jack said he wasn't to blame, he still felt guilty. Airman Trant stood next to him, writing on a clipboard. “Is she really as sick as Colonel Fitzgerald said?”

Trant nodded. “The machines are keeping her alive.”

“She won't thank you. She wanted to die before they took her leg, so she definitely won't want to live now.”

“We have trained counselors she can talk to.”

“She won't want to do that either. She can be a stubborn thing at times. Can I see her?”

“Tomorrow. We need to run some more tests on you first. Check you for parasites and things like that.”

Great.
“Seriously?” Jim rolled his eyes. “You gonna check for nits as well?”

Airman Trant nodded. “You could have brought anything back with you. It's standard procedure everyone goes through on returning to base.”

“Yeah, well, they can cut my hair while they're at it,” Jim muttered. “I look like a girl.”

Staci laughed from behind him. “You look more like a rock star minus the tattoos,” she chuckled. “Though if you want to annoy Mum and Dad more, go for it.”

Breakfast was a feast as far as they were concerned, with as much as they could eat or drink and then some. Ailsa drank so much coffee that Staci told her she would drown, or at least float all day, but they all avoided the cold tea in the dispenser. Finally, even Staci was full and pushed her plate away.

Sergeant Peterson folded his serviette. “The general has asked to see you three when you finished here.”

Jim felt his stomach sink and threaten to eject what he'd just eaten. He was going to be arrested, he just knew it.

Staci pulled a face. “It's like being dragged before the headmaster at school. Even if you've done nothing wrong, you still feel guilty.”

“But we have done something wrong,” Jim reminded her. “We left home. Because of that Deefer is dead and Lou is dying.”

“But if we hadn't left England, we would never have rescued Ailsa,” Staci argued. “And you wouldn't be able to look all sappy eyed at each other the whole time.”

When they reached the general's office, Sergeant Peterson knocked and the door opened.

“In you go,” he said. He shut the door behind them and stood guard outside.

“Sit down,” General Merrick said. Her eyes were cold and her voice sharp.

Three chairs had been placed opposite her desk. They sat, all feeling slightly uncomfortable. “Thank you for sending the helicopter for us yesterday, General,” Jim began.

“It arrived just in time from what Colonel Fitzgerald tells me,” General Merrick said dryly. “It was sheer luck we picked up your signal. We don't use Morse code anymore, but I insist on all my airmen knowing it. A routine training session was running when you sent your first SOS. I sent the plane out in response to that. And again after your second message.”

“Thank you.”

General Merrick looked at them. “Ailsa, I understand that you'd been on the island for six years since a plane crash.”

“Yes, ma'am. My parents were killed. A local tribe found me and cared for me. When the others came along, I joined up with them.”

“Are there any relatives I could contact for you?”

“No, no one. It's just me now.”

General Merrick smiled. “OK. What I have to say now doesn't apply to you. Sergeant Peterson will take you back to the infirmary. The doctors have a day of tests planned for you. I believe you asked about going off the base?”

Jim nodded. “If that's allowed.”

“As soon as Dr. Andrews gives you the all clear, you may leave with your parents.”

“Thank you.” Ailsa squeezed Jim's hand as she got up and left the room.

General Merrick looked at Jim and Staci. “Do you have any idea what you have done?” she asked. “Hours of manpower spent both in Britain and around the world searching for you. Your parents and Mrs. Benson were worried sick about you. Running away solves nothing. It just gets you in more trouble than facing the issue in the first place.”

“We didn't run away,” Staci interrupted. “We were looking for Mum and Dad.”


I
was looking for them,” Jim corrected her. “You and Lou stowed away.”

General Merrick silenced him with a look. “Mrs. Benson was devastated at the apparent loss of your parents. That, coupled with your disappearance, drove her to the edge of a nervous breakdown. Colonel Fitzgerald contacted her when he met Lou in Cornwall and then went back to bring you all home, only to find he'd missed you by a few minutes. He called her again on July 24, after he met you on Grand Turk. Then again on August 12, where at Mrs. Benson's request, he had paid for the boat repairs. He struck up a friendship with her and was largely responsible for helping her recover. Your parents arrived back in England, desperate to see you, only to hear you'd run away. And when a plane on a routine recon spotted the wreck of
Avon
, your parents and Mrs. Benson flew out here. They've been here ever since, worrying about you.”

General Merrick looked hard at Jim. “As the eldest, you should have stopped this escapade from ever happening.”

“It wasn't all Jim's fault. Lou and I had the idea of stowing away and going with him,” Staci said, not willing to let Jim cop all the blame. “I didn't want to go to boarding school. I didn't want to be separated from my brother. Jim kept us safe.”

“Safe? From what I understand, you encountered a hurricane, a shark, you were shipwrecked, had a run-in with an erupting volcano, a forest fire, near starvation, not to mention the death of the dog. Need I go on?”

“You're right. I messed up. Big time,” Jim whispered. “This whole thing is down to me. I was the responsible adult. I'm sorry. If I could take it all back, redo it all, I would.” He looked down, wishing he could just vanish.

“A tiny pebble causes many ripples,” General Merrick said. “There was one good thing to come out of all this though.”

Jim looked up, his face burning. “I can't see any.”

“That young woman you rescued, Ailsa. She may have stayed there for the rest of her life, if you hadn't come along when you did.”

“What will happen now?” Staci asked. “Are we in trouble?”

“As far as I am concerned, I have spoken to you and will not be taking any further action. What your parents decide is another matter altogether. Once the medics here have discharged you, Colonel Fitzgerald has said you can stay with him until your parents return to England. Sergeant Peterson will accompany you at all times while you're on the base. I suggest you follow his instructions to the letter.”

Jim inclined his head. “OK.”

“OK, you may leave.” General Merrick turned her attention to her paperwork.

Jim took the hint and led Staci from the room.

****

That afternoon, back in the infirmary, they endured a huge battery of tests. Staci complained loudly and vehemently, but to no avail. Sergeant Peterson stood watch the whole time from his spot by the door.

Staci looked across at him. “Don't you ever get bored standing there?” she said.

“Not with all the entertainment you're providing,” he replied.

“Sorry?”

Sergeant Peterson raised an eyebrow. “Until you have been checked out thoroughly, you can't leave the base. You might be contagious. And the more you argue, the more tests the doc will do. Trust me. Jack and I have been there and tried it.”

Jim looked up, wincing as they took yet more blood. At this rate he wouldn't have any left. “How long have you known Colonel Fitzgerald?”

“Since high school. We joined the Air Force together, served in several places together, best man at each other's weddings, and wound up here at the same time.”

“So how come he's a colonel and you're only a sergeant?” Staci asked.

“Staci.” Jim glared at her. “You don't ask questions like that.”

Sergeant Peterson smiled. “That's OK, Jim. It's one of those things, I guess. He got one of his promotions in the field during the Gulf War.”

Nichola came out of the ICU with Dad and Mum. “Hi, guys. How are you doing?”

“Feel like a pincushion,” Jim said.

“A starved pincushion,” Staci added.

Jim rolled his eyes. “It's only been three hours since you ate last.”

Nichola turned to Sergeant Peterson. “Hi, Ed.” They hugged. “How are Cathy and that new baby of yours?”

“Both fine. We finally decided on a name. Deborah. You and Jack need to come visit. Cathy would love to see you.”

Doc Andrews came over with a clipboard. “All done.” She smiled. “I want you to sleep here again tonight. You are all in remarkable good health. Slightly under nourished, but otherwise OK. You can go and get some food and then a brief walk. You could go and visit the base hairdresser. I know how desperate Jim is for a haircut. Then back here.”

Staci jumped up. “Yay. Food.”

Jim looked at the doctor. “How's Lou doing?”

“She's doing OK,” she said.

Jim read swiftly between the lines. “So why is she still unconscious?”

“She's still heavily sedated. She's got a long road ahead of her once we do wake her. She'll need to learn to walk again, for one thing.”

“Did she really lose her leg?” Staci asked, taking hold of her mother's hand.

Dr. Andrews nodded. “Yes, she did. You did a really good job though, Jim.”

“Not good enough,” he muttered. “It got infected almost immediately, but I didn't have anything to treat it with. 'Cept prayer.”

“Never underestimate the power of prayer,” Dad told him.

Dr. Andrews nodded again. “I've never known healing prayers to fail.” She smiled and turned her attention to the clipboard. “Anyway, tomorrow morning you all have an appointment with the base counselor.”

Staci shook her head. “No way.”

“It's not an option. Afterwards, you can leave the base for a couple of hours.”

Dad looked at his daughter. “Mum, Ed, and I will take you clothes shopping, but only if you cooperate with the counselor first.”

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