Page 56 of One Last Shot

Just downriver some sixty feet from the spray of a waterfall, just beyond the protection of a granite boulder, an ATV sat half submerged and upside down, all-terrain wheels up.

And on its undercarriage, stranded, their victim balanced out of the water.

The ATV had gone over long ago, but Air One used the abandoned vehicle for training every year. Now Riley poised on it like a hapless adventurer, dressed in a helmet, orange hunting coat, canvas pants, and boots. He looked dry, but her guess was that he’d gotten wet during his trip via kayak to the ATV, having been deposited there by her cousin Dodge, who’d finished paddling downstream and gone ashore at a tall bridge.

No doubt her cousin watched via binoculars.

Now Riley sat, helpless, alone, scared, waiting like a gift for Air One to pluck out of danger.

It would look fantastic on camera.

Most importantly, they’d squeeze in serious training with a so-called live rescue, and everyone could go home happy.

Or that’s at least how she’d pitched it to Moose, who seemed on the grizzly side after his showdown with Huxley.

So, yeah, no one from the production team needed to know better.

And as for Air One, Riley was all too happy to get in on the gig before heading back to Pensacola. Besides, as a SEAL, he was better equipped than anyone to self-rescue should things actually go south. And being former military, Dodge refused to be left out of the action.

The camera on the chopper caught the victim below, and Oaken’s helmet cam would capture his descent. But just for extra footage, Moose allowed them to attach a camera to the hoist.

Beto and Huxley, safely on the cliffside above the river, would film the high-anglerescue from afar.

But they’d miked up Oaken, and Boo had no doubt that his mic also caught her voice as she shouted directions at Moose.

“Bring us around over the rock!” Boo shouted. “I see him below. He seems to be uninjured.”

Indeed, Riley played his part, waving almost frantically for help. She’d had to practically accept bribes from Dodge and Riley as to who would get the privilege of going into the water.

Although, with the glacial run still icy cold, she’d promised Riley no dunking. Now she turned to Oaken and ran down the particulars for the camera while she double-checked his rig.

“He managed to climb out of the car, but as you can see, any longer down there and he’ll be hypothermic. I’m going to lower you down just like we trained. You get him into the basket, and then we’ll pull you back up.”

Oaken gave her a thumbs-up.

She wore her visor down but caught his smile even as he put his down.

Okay, she might have had too much fun planning the entire thing with him. In fact, hanging around Oaken had felt almost easy after that night at Moose’s.

Or maybe after he’d told her about Maggie and the way he had invested in her healing. That didn’t sound like a guy out for his own fame.

“Step out onto the skids.”

He did so, and she leaned out, her safety line attached to the chopper, and helped maneuver the egg basket, named for its shape, out with him. His harness attached to the basket, and the entire rig attached to a cable. Next to her, Shep worked the winch.

“Try to keep my feet dry, will you, Moose?” Oaken said through the radio.

She had to give him kudos—he’d come far from that first day in the Shed. Despite the training scenario, any number of disasters could send the chopper, or the line, into the nearbycliffside.

“Okay, easy forward, easy left,” she said, watching as Oaken descended. “We’re still quite a ways up—easy... Hold there. He’s about sixty feet up.”

Overhead, the sky cast blue, but dark clouds tumbled out of the Alaska Range to the north, sending before it a brisk wind forecast. So far, it hadn’t messed with the chopper, but she didn’t want to take chances. “Oaken, how are you doing?”

“Good.”

“Okay, Moose, easy back now. Hold . . .”

Moose was a needle threader with the chopper, and although they hadn’t had many rescues that had necessitated the chopper since she’d arrived, she appreciated his skills. No wonder he had that small rack of medals on his desk.