Chapter 6 - The Night of the Pave Hawk
The roar of the twin-engine HH-60G Pave Hawk helicopter shattered the quiet dark of the Adirondack wilderness.
Harsh yellow flares burned through the swirling fog and rain in the clearing two hundred yards behind the timber cabin. The massive military helicopter hovered ten feet above the mud, its giant rotors whipping the pine trees into a wild storm of branches and rain before setting down heavily on its landing gear.
Four Air Force medics in tactical flight suits scrambled out of the side door, pushing a ruggedized transport gurney through the mud.
Victor carried Lena through the storm himself. He had wrapped her in three dry wool blankets and his own heavy shearling coat, shielding her face from the biting wind with his broad frame. His boots sank inches into the cold mud with every step, but his grip on her never wavered for a single fraction of an inch.
"Keep her head elevated!" the chief medic shouted over the deafening roar of the rotors. "What’s her gestation?!"
"Thirty-three weeks!" Evelyn yelled, running beside them, holding an IV bag she had started inside the cabin. "Pre-term labor brought on by severe stress! Contractions are two minutes apart!"
They lifted Lena onto the gurney, securing her with safety straps before wheeling her up the ramp into the interior of the cavernous helicopter.
Victor scrambled up right behind them, refusing to let go of Lena’s hand for a single second. Aaron and Evelyn climbed into the back seats, securing themselves against the frame.
The medic slammed the side door shut, and the Pave Hawk immediately lifted off into the tempestuous night sky, banking sharply toward Albany Medical Center.
Inside the dimly lit, vibrating cabin, the medical team worked with frantic, practiced efficiency. One medic placed an oxygen mask over Lena’s face, while another attached heart-monitoring pads to her chest.
The heart monitor began to beep—a fast, erratic rhythm. Beep-beep-beep-beep.
"Fetal heart rate is spiking!" the medic called out, looking at the digital monitor. "One hundred and eighty-five! The baby is in distress! The umbilical cord might be compressed!"
Lena’s eyes went wide with sheer terror beneath the plastic oxygen mask. She gripped Victor’s hand with every ounce of strength remaining in her small body, her knuckles turning bone-white.
"Victor... save her... please save our baby..." she sobbed, her voice muffled by the mask.
Victor leaned down until his forehead was resting directly against hers. Tears slipped down his cheeks, mixing with the sweat and rainwater on her skin.
"Listen to me, Lena," Victor whispered, his voice cutting through the thrumming roar of the helicopter engines, through the frantic beeping of the heart monitor, through all the fear in the world. "Look at me. Look into my eyes."
Lena forced her tear-filled eyes to meet his.
"You and our daughter are my entire life," Victor said, his voice ringing with an ironclad, absolute certainty. "She is strong because she is yours. You are going to bring her into this world, and I am going to stand by your side every single day for the rest of my life to make sure neither of you ever feels pain again. Breathe for me, baby. Just breathe."
Lena took a long, shaking breath through the mask, her eyes locked onto his dark, fierce gaze.
Slowly, incredibly, the heart monitor’s frantic pace began to drop. Beep... beep... beep...
One hundred and fifty. Normal fetal baseline.
May you like
The chief flight medic looked up at Victor, nodding with a look of profound professional respect. "Good job, sir. She’s stabilizing. We’ll be over Albany Medical in six minutes."
Victor kissed Lena’s trembling hand, pressing her knuckles against his lips, refusing to break his gaze from hers for even a second as the helicopter carved its way through the dark clouds toward the hospital lights below.
