Die for You

Chapter 15

We pulled onto a small private heliport without any major hitches or even any major arguments. The strip itself was little more than a platform that jutted out into the Thames. James, Simon and Miss Armstrong looked right at home. I must have looked like a bag of boiled shit. I really wasn't looking forward to this at all.

I can't help but think back to my last flight in a helicopter. I don't remember much of it, but I do remember the pain and the wooziness. I remember the anguish of knowing that my team were dead and that I had once again failed them; what I remembered wasn't good.

I wasn't happy about flying, so sue me... I have my reasons.

"Are you all right, Freen?" Miss Armstrong asked quietly as James was sharing a joke with Simon.

"I'm fine, Miss Armstrong, I just don't like flying anymore"

"I used to be scared of flying, but I've done it so much now I'm pretty much blasé about it. How long have you been scared, all your life?"

"Since December," I replied watching in horror as a dark blue Sikorsky chopper eased down onto the platform and came to a halt.

"That's our ride," James interrupted happily, sparing me any further explanation. "Come on people, let's haul ass, daylights wasting and Rob Armstrong isn't a man to keep waiting."

Reluctantly, I got up and followed them to the helicopter, its rotors spinning slowly as its engine idled. Instinctively, I ducked as I ran towards it, there's no real reason for doing that, the rotors don't come low enough to be able to hit you; but I can't help doing it, and it's actually part of the helicopter training I'd done in the CPU.

Miss Armstrong got on board first followed by James and Simon. I climbed on board, sat down on the empty seat beside her and began strapping myself in; pulling the headphones with the boom mic over my head.

I could hear the chatter as I watched the door slam closed and the co-pilot climb in. After a quick round of introductions over the headset, I could feel my heart racing in time with the blades as they spun up the turbines and eased us into the air.

Everyone was looking at me as we took off. I guess they could tell how terrified I was. I had my eyes squeezed tightly closed, the memories flooding back of that Blackhawk.

Suddenly, I felt a movement next to me and something warm press onto my hand that I hadn't realized was gripping the seat until the knuckles were white. I opened my eyes and looked down to see a perfectly manicured set of fingers covering my own and for some reason, everything felt a whole lot better.

"It's ok, Freen," I heard over the headphones, the noise of the helicopter still making hearing difficult, "you'll make it, you're a fighter too, right?"

I closed my eyes at her words, trying to push them away, but I made no effort to remove her hand from mine. Actually, I made no effort to move at all.

As the helicopter leveled out into normal flight, I finally opened my eyes once more and were met by James' cheeky smirk.

---

"Freen... Freen!"

I was shaken awake by a rough hand and opened my eyes to see the smiling face of James Porter.

"Jesus, boss, what the fuck? What's gone wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, we're here Blondie, Armstrong Manor. Grab your gear and get moving. We have a chance of a big time here and I need your fucking 'A' game, you with me, soldier?"

I shook the sleep from my head, and nodded carefully. He was right, we'd landed in the gardens of the Armstrongs' country home. Simon and Miss Armstrong were already out of the chopper and stood off to one side, our bags placed on the grass next to the small helipad.