Troubleshooters - Into The Night Part 8

Yeah, she was impressed all the way to her toes, and the demonstration hadn't even officially started yet.

"Here's the scenario," Muldoon told them after double-checking to make sure the harness was secure. "We've been sent in to rescue Joan DaCosta, a thirty-year-old American woman in good health who works, let's say, at the U.S. emba.s.sy in Manila."

"Thirty-two," Joan interjected. "Almost thirty-three."

Muldoon chose to ignore her. "She's been grabbed and taken hostage by Abu Sayyat, a terrorist group linked to al-Qaeda in the Philippines. We've pinpointed her locationa" she's on a remote island. We've gone in and eliminated the terrorists who were holding her anda"

"Eliminated," Joan interrupted. "Why don't you military guys just say what you really meana"killed?"

"Because what we really mean is eliminated" Muldoon told her evenly. "Targets are eliminated and terrorists are targets."

His eyes were a truly remarkable shade of blue. Cosmo was still wearing his sungla.s.ses, so she couldn't see his eyes, but Gilligan's were a deep, soft brown, and also very pretty. Jenk's were on the blue side of hazel.

They were all looking at her, and Joan looked back at them, one by one, suddenly aware that all of these mena"and maybe particularly scary Cosmoa"had eliminated many terrorist targets. It was part of their job description.

She looked into Muldoon's eyes again, trying to see regret or even remorse at having taken human lives.

It wasn't there. She only saw... patience and maybe a hint of warm amus.e.m.e.nt. He liked her. She knew that. But it wasn't going to ruin his day if she disapproved of this aspect of his job. He didn't need her approvala"he was that sure of himself.

It was a tremendously attractive thinga"that much self-confidence. Joan quickly looked away from him, afraid of what he might see in her own eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Please go on."

"We've eliminateda"" His gaze flickered back to her for a second. "a"the tangos in the immediate area, but Intel has made us aware that the entire island is crawling with potential hostiles. World War Three will break out if they realize we're in the area, so we can't bring a heloa"helicoptera"" He looked at her again as he translated. "a"for extraction. Extraction means leaving an operationa"

"And insertion means arriving. You told me that before," she said. "It's proven to be an effective tool for me in my job if I actually listen to the people from whom I'm getting information. Go on, please."

"Our safest, fastest route off the island is to proceed with stealth down to the harbor and swim," he continued. "Out in the harbor is a French freighter about to leave port. They know we're coming, and have rigging similar to our cargo net here secured along the starboard side of the vessela"the side facing away from town. We can climb on board without drawing any attention to ourselves. Any questions?"

"What do you do with a plan like that when your former hostage informs you that she can't swim?" Joan asked.

"As long as Lieutenant Muldoon's with you, you don't need to know how to swim," Jenk told her with a grin. "You just need to know how to hold on."

"Yeah, but what if she's really freaked out by deep water, like really can't handle it, can't even go out on a boat?" she asked.

"Are you really?" Muldoon asked.

"No. I love boats. My only fear relating to the ocean is being forced to wear a bikini in public. I'm much more the tank suit type." She liked to swima"although calling it swimming was an exaggeration. She was an excellent doggy paddler, despite the fact that she hated getting water in her ears. She was p.r.o.ne to sinus infections. "I'm just saying what if."

"There's a good chance that information about any severe phobias would be included in the personnel records made available after the hostage went missing," he told her. "Although, you never know." He turned to Jenk. "You have Joan's file?"

She turned to Jenk, too. Joan's what?

The shorter SEAL was already holding something out toward Muldoon. A file. Her file. Holy s.h.i.+t. What exactly was in there?

"This is your file," Muldoon told her. "It contains information about youa"next-of-kin type stuff, as well as standard info like all the places you've ever lived, colleges you attended, you know. Any known medical conditions. There's also a list of basic physical characteristics along with several photosa"because hostages are not always alert and able to identify themselves. And occasionally they've been beaten to the point that the photos really don't help, hence the list of identifying marks." He smiled. "You know that tattoo you got about five years ago... ?"

"Oh, s.h.i.+t!" Joan s.n.a.t.c.hed the file from his hands. "Let me see that."

Not only were there several extremely hideous pictures of her in therea"out of three, only one of them wasn't awfula" but there was indeed a brief list of physical characteristics, including her double piercings in each ear, and yes, the small rose tattoo she'd gotten just below her left hip.

She flipped through the rest of the papers.

"G.o.d, how embarra.s.sing. My tattoo's in my file, yet there's nothing here at all about my skill as a public relations person and a writer. Isn't that telling about our society?"

Jenk pointed helpfully to the page that held a summary of her college transcript. "They list your SAT scores. Which were almost as high as mine."

Muldoon gave him one look and Jenk pulled his hand back as quickly as if he'd gotten smacked.

"This isn't that sort of file," Muldoon told her. "This is basic and limited information that will help us ID you and therefore be able to get you to safety. If there was more time to prepare, we'd receive more information about you." He smiled. "Maybe even a writing sample. But for right now, this file has one of the things we need most. Your measurements."

"Excuse me?" Was he kidding? Joan couldn't tell because he was smiling. If he was, it was a bad joke. But he looked pointedly behind her, and she turned.

"Your new wardrobe," Muldoon said.

Jenk was now holding up a pair of ankle-high boots. And Gilligan held what looked like a green-and-brown camouflage jumpsuit. Jungle print, she remembered it was called.

"When we kick down the doors and rescue you," Muldoon told her, suddenly serious, "we come in prepared for you to be in any condition. You might be beaten so badly that you can't walk. If that's the case, we'll stabilize you and carry you out. You might be naked and handcuffed in the corner of the room. We'll get you unlocked and cover you up. You mighta" and we always hope this is the casea"you might be physically unharmed but wearing a skirt and high heels, like you are right now. I don't know about you, but personally, I've never been able to run well in heels."

"Me, neither," Cosmo said, perfectly deadpan.

Joan took the jumpsuit from Gilligan. "Is mere somewhere I can go to put this on?"

"Chances are you wouldn't have time to be modest," Gilligan told her apologetically. "You'd either change right there or just pull this on over your clothes."

"If those are my choices, I'll take option two." She kicked off her shoes and stepped into the pants.

"It'll work better if you hike up your skirt," Muldoon suggested, and for a second she thought he might actually reach in and help.

But she turned her back on hima"on all of them.

"I'm going to be really hot in this," she realized. And doubly uncomfortable with her skirt bunched up around her a.s.s.

"There'll be less of a chance of rope burns," Gilligan said.

Joan reached behind her, unfastened her skirt, and, zipping the jumpsuit up in the front, squeezed her skirt over her head.

She tossed it onto a nearby bench and kicked her shoes over there as well as she slipped her arms into the jumpsuit and zipped it the rest of the way up.

The boots they'd brought for her were a little big, but then again, she was wearing pantyhose instead of socks. Transformation complete.

And then they were all heading to the cargo net.

"You ready to try this?" Muldoon asked her.

"Don't I look ready?" Actually, in this loose-fitting jumpsuit, she probably looked like a camouflaged marshmallow. When they did this with Brooke, she'd have to make sure to get clothes that fit. The camouflage pattern was nice, thougha" it would make for a good photo.

But then Joan looked up. And up. And all those little details didn't matter right now.

Standing next to this thing, she knew this was completely insane. The framework holding the ropes seemed to stretch upward for a long, long way.

"You want me to hose you down?" Jenk asked helpfully. "To make the scenario more realistic? Because supposedly you just had a nice long swim out into the harbor."

Was he serious? G.o.d, he was.

"Thanks, but no thanks," Joan said. She tried to sound casual. "Hey, uh, Mike? Is this really safe?"

"Yeah. Doubly so because you'll be wearing this." Muldoon fastened the harness around her. It went between her legs and up around her waist and around her torso and over her shoulders. It was attached to a blue mountain-climbing rope that went all the way up to some kind of device attached to the top of the frame.

G.o.d d.a.m.n, this thing was big. She stared up at it, unable to look away. Muldoon really expected her to climb all the way up there? And down the other side... ?

"So if you do slipa"but you won't, I won't let youa"the harness'11 catch you. What you need to remember is, if that happens, protect your head. You listening to me, Joan? Look at me, okay?"

He pulled her chin down so that she was looking into his eyes.

"You with me?" he asked.

Huh? Oh. "Yeah."

"If you slip, protect your head. The harness will keep you from falling far, but you'll swing. You'll just bounce off the ropes, but it's not impossible for you to hit the frame. Which is solid wood. Which you don't want your head to connect with. You got that?"

Joan nodded.

He tightened the harness around her waist. "So what do you do if you slip?"

"Protect my head. I was listening."

"Good." It was an odd sensation to have him snapping and buckling her in. It was very safe-feelinga"not unlike being five years old and bundled up by her mother before she went outside and played in the snow.

She half expected him to kiss her on the nose when he finished.

Instead he just smiled. "Don't look so worried. I'm going to be with you every step of the way. And Jenk and Cosmo will be right behind us and beside us. Gillman will be up top, making sure the harness system works. Okay?"

"Okay." She forced herself to smile.

"There we go. That's more like it. This is going to be fun."

Joan laughed. "No, no, no. Fun is getting invited to a dinner party and finding out you're seated next to Colin Firth. Fun is having the First Lady invite you to lunch in Paris. Fun is not climbing four million feet into the air and four million feet back down."

"To each his own," he said easily. "I wouldn't have the slightest clue what to say to the First Lady. Or Colin Firth."

"You just ask about their day. Everyone likes to talk about themselves," Joan said. "It's easy."

"Yeah, well, I happen to think this is easier. As you climb, it's going to feel kind of soft. Springy. The ropes give. And they'll tighten and bounce when Cosmo and Jenk climb onto the rigging, too. Hold on as tightly as you can. And when you take a step, if you feel at all like you're slipping, try to catch the heel of your boot on the ropea"it'll make you feel more secure." He turned her to face the ropes. "Start by climbing on."

"Now?"

He laughed. "As opposed to next Friday? Yes, now. Don't think about it, Joan. Just do it."

She did it. Both hands and then her feet. Yikes, it was definitely wiggly underfoot. And her own body weight pulled her backward, gravity tugging her toward the ground. This was going to be much more difficult than climbing a wooden ladder.

"There you go. Hold on tightly," he ordered. And then the ropes squirmed even more as he climbed on, too.

And Muldoon really did climb ona"right on top of her.

He surrounded her, his hands and feet on either side of hers, his chest against her back. He was actually touching her, as if they were lovers spooning together.

"This is how we're going to do it," he said, his voice in her ear. "Me right here with you. All the way up to the top. When you move, I move. If you need to stop and take a break, you can lean back against me. I'll hold on to you and make sure you don't fall."

He was extremely solid against her back, a very male wall of hard muscles.

Oh, my.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Fine," she managed. Her heart was already pounding, and she was only a foot or so off the ground. "Except I don't seem to want to let go of these ropes, so climbing's going to be a little difficult."

"Start with your left foot." His breath was warm against her ear, and he pushed his leg up underneath her left thigh, actually lifting her foot off the ropes.

She had no choice but to find the next rung in this giant rope ladder.

"Good. Then your right hand." He helped her with that as well, prying her fingers from the rope and guiding her up a square. "Excellent. Now your right foot. And left hand."

And there she was.

Climbing.

Well, actually, it was more like she was sitting on his lap, and he was climbing, but at least he no longer had to pry her hands from the ropes as they moved.

"You're doing great," he said into her ear. "Just don't look down."

Of course she immediately looked down and it was all over. She froze. "Oh, s.h.i.+t." It hadn't taken them long to get way, way off the ground. And yet they were still only halfway to the top.

"Oops," Muldoon said. "My bad. Sorry. I shouldn't have told you not to look down, because then you're going to look down, right? Human nature."

"Oh, s.h.i.+t," she said again.

"Do you have trouble with heights?" he asked. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. A lot of people do."

"I do," Jenk chimed in, hanging like a monkey by only one arm from the net, just slightly above them.

He was making the entire thing shake, and Joan heard herself squeak with alarm. G.o.d, how embarra.s.sing to actually squeak.

"Go all the way up to the top," Muldoon ordered Jenkins. "Cosmo, too. Get off the net. Let's make this thing as stable as possible."

Joan closed her eyes as the two other men quickly climbed up the rigging, as the net bounced and shook. But then, thankfully, it stopped.

"I'm not afraid of heights," she told Muldoon. "At least I didn't think I was. But, oh, G.o.d, I guess I am."