Damaged

CHAPTER 63

Liz wiped at her goggles. It didn't help. Just as she could see, the spray clouded her sight, again.

The wind yanked her up and down, whipping her from side to side. Once she almost made contact and Kesnick pulled too far up. Finally, her feet hit the deck. Kesnick slackened the cable. She dropped and rolled as a wave swallowed the boat. It almost pushed her overboard. She felt the cable go taut just as she grabbed on to a railing. Before Kesnick could change his mind, Liz waved that she was okay.

Communication would be tough. Almost impossible. Her hand gestures might become invisible as the rain intensified. But if the boat swirled out of control, she was still connected to the helicopter. And at the first sign of trouble Kesnick would pull her up.

She crawled along the deck, grabbing on to hooks and cables attached to the boat. She couldn't see anyone at the helm. She focused on her task. She was in control. There was no room for panic.

Liz pulled at the cabin door. The wind fought her. She hung on and ducked just as another wave came crashing over the top. The hoist cable tugged at her waist. Kesnick was impatient, nervous. She took the time to wave up at him. Could he see her thumbs-up?

The time between crests grew shorter. She had maybe a dozen seconds. She yanked at the cabin door again, using all her strength. It popped open.

No one was at the wheel. The engines were turned off. The owner must have realized there was no fighting the waves.

"Hello," she yelled and stood still, listening for a response.

Nothing. Static behind her. The radio.

"Anyone down there?"

She pulled off her goggles. Let them dangle around her neck. She waited to catch her breath then she started down the steps.

The gun was pressed against her left temple before she even saw it.