‘We’ll have to wait for the fire service to cut access,’ Tama decreed, but Mikki wasn’t having any of it.
‘I could fit through the window.’
‘No way! Too dangerous.’
‘Not if we knock the rest of the glass out. The car’s stable enough, isn’t it?’
‘I guess.’ The crumpled wreck was perfectly stable, wedged between two giant boulders. Tama was curiously reluctant to allow Mikki to squeeze into the tiny gap of a window frame, however.
‘Ignition’s off. Fire danger should be low and it’s an old car. There won’t be any undeployed airbags. Not in the back, anyway.’
Tama turned to the chief fire officer, who was now standing beside him. ‘It’ll take us a few minutes to set up for cutting.’
‘At least let me get in to make sure his airway’s open,’ Mikki pleaded.
The fire officer grinned. ‘Keen, isn’t she?’
‘Yeah.’ And suddenly Tama was proud of how brave Mikki was. Could appreciate her diminutive size. ‘OK, go for it, Mouse. We’ll pass in whatever you need.’
By the time they freed the victim, he was set to go, with a neck collar in place, oxygen on and IV fluids running.
She was good.
So good it no longer seemed premature to take her a step further in her training. Winch work, for sure, as soon as they could fit it in. Tama was going to sit down and have a good look at his calendar tonight as well. A clear day or two and he would start the preparations needed to give Mikki her survival training.
Why did frustration seem to be an inherent part of this job?
Was it just that Mikki wanted too much, too soon?
Last shift she’d been frustrated because she’d been left behind on station and had had to use her time to study. This shift the opposite was happening. Three busy days so far and she’d gone on every mission because not one of them had needed winching.
And it was frustrating because she wanted to soak in all the background information Tama had provided for her on winching. She’d had her evenings, of course, but it wasn’t the same as being able to fire questions at Tama as they occurred to her. Something as practical as playing with the simulator was as far away as it had ever been.
Mikki knew perfectly well that hindsight would make her appreciate this full-on spell. Already, she could see that both Tama and Josh had come to trust her judgement and recognise her strengths. They simply handed her the IV gear now and her opinion on every case was always sought. They had gelled together as a team even before the milestone of their tenth mission together that had been clocked up late yesterday.
But today was the last of their four-day shift and Mikki didn’t want a stretch of days off when she was no closer to her new goal of being winch capable, so she was striding into the hanger with a purposeful step, a little earlier than usual, intent on persuading Tama to start her practical training.
The hangar was dimly lit with the new day just gathering strength, but the light was not dim enough to hide the two figures who were standing near the helicopter.
Both Tama and the station manager, Andy, were watching her with a focus that was unsettling, to say the least.
‘Something wrong?’ Mikki queried, by way of a greeting.
‘Yeah.’ Tama’s scowl deepened. ‘Josh won’t be in to work today.’
‘He’s sick?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘He was out running last night,’ Andy told her. ‘This idiot took a corner too fast, went off the road, through a fence and into the park Josh was running in.’
‘Oh, my God,’ Mikki breathed. ‘He got hit?’
‘Leg broken in three places,’ Tama said gloomily. ‘Femur, tib and fib, and his foot got squashed. He was in surgery for three hours.’
‘He’ll be in hospital for weeks,’ Andy added. ‘Off work for months.’
Mikki stood still, absorbing the bad news. Josh was a part of her team now. A friend. He’d been Tama’s partner for a long time, too, and part of her concern and sympathy had to go to her mentor who would, no doubt, have to work with someone he didn’t know nearly as well for quite some time.
Tama seemed to read and accept her mixed response. ‘At least it wasn’t his head,’ he said quietly. ‘He’ll come right.’
Mikki nodded. ‘Is he allowed visitors yet?’
‘We’ll go and annoy him every time we’re at the hospital.’
‘But …’ A new concern emerged. ‘What’s going to happen today? With the crew, I mean?’ Would a stranger be ready to accept her as a third crew member? Make her an integral part of the team the way Tama and Josh had?
‘I was going to call in a replacement,’ Andy said. ‘But it was looking like we might have to stand you guys down. Then I thought of my old mate, Alistair.’
‘Ex-helicopter crew,’ Tama put in. ‘Before my time.’
‘Yes. He’s retired from helicopter work,’ Andy continued, ‘but his qualifications are still current. He’s got a website design business now that’s quite portable. He’s happy to hang out on station and be available for any winch jobs. Only operating the winch, mind you.’ Andy chuckled. ‘He says he’s over dangling. He can still do his normal work on station. It’s a fairly unusual arrangement but I’ve managed to clear it.’
‘For any jobs that don’t require winching,’ Tama finished, ‘I’ve told Andy that I’m more than happy to crew with you.’
Andy was frowning. ‘It’s kind of a big ask this soon in your training, Mikki. I said we’d have to see how you felt about it.’
‘I … I’m happy if Tama’s happy,’ Mikki said slowly. She caught Tama’s gaze, knowing that her questions would be written on her face.
You really want this? You trust me to be your partner?
The dark eyes were steady on hers. Warm.
Yes, they said. You can do this. We can do this.
‘I’m happy,’ was all Tama said.
Andy gave a nod. ‘Let’s see how it goes, then.’ He smiled at Mikki. ‘Tama tells me he wants to accelerate your training to include winching, but don’t go getting any ideas that you’ll be allowed to do anything in the near future.’ He was looking at Tama. ‘Safety first, remember?’
Tama cleared his throat. ‘How could I forget?’ he muttered. Then he smiled at Mikki. ‘No time like the present, is there? Good thing you got to work early, Mouse.’
It was and it wasn’t.
One frustration faded only to be replaced by a new one.
An unexpectedly fierce and potentially problematic one.
It started with Tama’s first words when Andy had gone back to his office.
‘Let’s get a nappy on you, then,’ he said.
‘The harness, I hope.’ Mikki hoped the light response would hide something more than embarrassment at the terminology. The very idea of Tama touching her in places that a nappy would cover was more than enough to send a flood of colour to her cheeks.
‘We use a nappy harness by preference.’ Tama was sorting through a box of gear in the corner of the hangar. ‘Much more dangerous winching someone in a stretcher. Get a good spin or something going and it can be hard to control. Here.’ He was holding out a collection of straps and fasteners. ‘We’ll pretend you’re