Sea of Shadows eBook - Navy Thriller.com

286 JEFF EDWARDS
He switched over to his intercom. “Mojo, I need a damage report.
Give me a rapid survey; we’ll check for little stuff in a minute.”
A few seconds went by, but he didn’t receive an answer. He keyed the
intercom again. “How’s it looking back there?”
No answer.
Chavez turned far enough in his seat to see into the rear of the cabin.
Petty Officer Haynes was slumped over in her seat, her head hanging
limply, bobbing and rolling with each movement of the aircraft. A dark
stain was spreading across her chest, but against the olive drab of her flight
suit, it was impossible to tell if it was blood. The helo took a particularly
violent bump, and the young woman’s head lolled far enough to the side so
that her face was partially visible. A dark red bubble formed over one
nostril, broke, and then another one began to form. It was blood all right.
Chavez keyed his intercom. “Mojo is hit!”
Lieutenant Brolan was silently chanting, “Come on baby … come on
baby … come on baby …” With a rapid interplay of hand and foot work,
he managed to throw his crippled helo far enough to the side to avoid
another hail of bullets. At least he thought he had avoided it; the airframe
was rattling so badly that they might have taken a hit and not been able to
feel it. He keyed his intercom. “How bad is she?”
“I don’t know,” Chavez said. “But it doesn’t look good.” He keyed the
intercom again. “Mojo, can you hear me? Come on, Mojo, talk to me.
You’re gonna be okay; you’ve just got to hang on for a few minutes.”
He switched back to the radio. “SAU Commander, this is Gunslinger
Four-One. My SENSO is hit. I can’t tell how bad, but it looks like a chest
wound. I’m going to need a medical crew standing by as soon as I hit the
deck, over.”
“Roger, Gunslinger.”
Another burst of gunfire came from the oil platform, but this one fell
short, the tracers dropping harmlessly into the ocean at the ends of their
trajectories.
“I think we’re out of it,” Lieutenant Brolan said. “I think we’re …”
The tension in his voice was easing. He looked up. “What’s our damage
like?”
“I can’t tell,” Lieutenant (jg) Chavez said. “My dials are all over the
place. But I think I’m smelling oil.”
Lieutenant Brolan nodded. “Yeah, I smell it too. Think we can make it
back to the barn?”
The radio kicked in. “Gunslinger Four-One, this is SAU Commander.
We are approaching at all speed. Return to home plate, over.”
Brolan stared at the radio as if it were from another planet. “No shit.”