8
Ham hovered twenty feet above the wavetops while Craig lowered Tad, their rescue swimmer, down on the helicopter’s winch cable.
He couldn’t see what was beneath him, so Craig the crew chief was calling out positioning moves. “Five back. Hold. Up ten. Hold.”
The litany had been practiced too many times for it to fully occupy his thoughts, though he wished it did.
He’d been called back to the ship just as the Response Boat-Small was lowered into the water by the cutter. He couldn’t carry the RB-S, they’d need a JayHawk for that, but there wasn’t one available for another hour, and that might be too late.
But that wasn’t the heartstopper. That happened when Ham saw one of the RB-S’s occupants. No one, but no one moved like Petty Officer Vera Chu. Her elegance showed in every gesture, e
