No Return

3

“You’re lucky.” the search-and-rescue paramedic applied ointment to Wes’s forearm. “A little singed hair, first-degree burn, a few bruises, and that scrape on your arm. Could have been a lot worse.”

Wes owed two people for his life that day: the pilot for changing his plane’s course, and Dione for delaying him. Those few critical seconds she’d blocked him from running back to the jet had kept him from being caught in the flames.

He stared at the wreckage while the medic continued to work on him. The fire was out now, and several members of the naval rescue team were working to remove the pilot’s body, while others were moving around the plane, some taking photographs, others searching for God knew what.

“Excuse me, Mr. Stewart?” Wes pulled his gaze away from the wreckage. Standing a few feet away was a naval officer. He was wearing a khaki uniform, not the olive green jumpsuits of the rescue team. “I’m Lieutenant Miller. When you’re through, there are a couple of questions we’d like to ask you.”

“Of course,” Wes said.

The medic taped a piece of gauze over Wes’s burn, then stood up. “He’s good to go.”

“Please,” the lieutenant said, “if you’ll follow me.”

He led Wes to the helicopter farthest from the plane. A canopy had been set up beside it, and several portable stools were scattered about underneath. The other members of the Close to Home crew were all there, even Alison and Monroe, who’d been left back at the Pinnacles when the others had followed Wes to the crash site.

The moment they saw him, those who weren’t already standing jumped to their feet and ran over.

Anna was the first to reach him. She looked at the gauze bandage on his right arm and grimaced. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” Wes said. “I’m fine. Nothing major.”

“Jesus, Wes, you could have been killed,” Dione said, not for the first time.

Wes shrugged, but didn’t reply.

Danny gave him a lopsided grin. “You going to be able to hold your camera up with that?”

“Danny, seriously,” Anna scolded.

“I was just joking,” Danny said.

Alison glared at him. “Now might not be the right time.”

The lieutenant put his hand on Wes’s back. “Sir, if you’ll please step into the helicopter.”

“Are you taking me somewhere?”

“No, sir. Just more privacy inside.”

“They just want to know what you saw,” Dione said. “They’ve talked to the rest of us already. The guy inside said once they finish with you, we can get out of here.”

The lieutenant stopped at the open door of the helicopter and motioned for Wes to pass through.

Inside, another man sat on the bench seat that ran along the back of the passenger space, glancing at the top page of a notepad. He, too, was dressed in khakis, but he was older than the lieutenant, probably in his mid-forties. On the collar of his uniform were the silver leaves denoting a commander.

The commander set the pad down as he rose from the bench, his back hunched slightly to compensate for the limited space. “Hello, Mr. Stewart. My name is Thomas Forman.”

Wes shook his hand. “Good to meet you, sir.”

“Have a seat.” Forman settled back on the bench, motioning to a spot near him. As Wes sat, the commander glanced toward the door. “That’ll be all for the moment, Lieutenant.”

Lieutenant Miller saluted, then closed the helicopter door, leaving the two of them alone.

Forman gave Wes a smile. “First of all, I want to thank you for reacting as quickly as you did. Your colleagues told me you didn’t hesitate to rush to the scene. Not many people would do that.”

Wes shook his head dismissively. “I don’t know about that, Commander. It didn’t end up helping, anyway.”

“I think you’re undervaluing your efforts, Mr. Stewart.” Forman picked up his notepad. “As much as I wish it wasn’t, my job is to investigate this accident, and try to find out what happened. Part of that means interviewing witnesses such as yourself and your colleagues.”

“I’ll help however I can,” Wes said.

“Thank you, I’m sure you will.” Forman smiled briefly, then turned serious. “As you can imagine, what you witnessed here is an event we consider very sensitive. It’s always a matter of national security when one of our planes goes down, but today we’ve also lost a member of our family.”

“Of course,” Wes said. “I understand completely.”

“Thank you. I promise I won’t take up much of your time. Just a couple of questions and you can go.” The commander glanced down at his pad. “Mr. Stewart, why don’t you start by describing what you saw?”

“You can call me Wes, sir.”

“All right.” Forman paused, his eyes seeming to assess Wes anew. “You’re a Navy brat, aren’t you?”

Wes looked surprised. “Yes, sir. How’d you know?”

“You called me Commander. Then the ‘sir,’ ” Forman said. “One of your colleagues, Miss Li, I believe, mentioned you’re actually from around here.”

“That’s right,” Wes said. “I grew up on the base, then moved to Ridgecrest during high school.”

“Hell of a homecoming,” Forman said.

“You can say that again.”

“Were your parents in the Navy?”

“My dad made lieutenant commander.” Wes hesitated. “Retired when I was fourteen and took a job with one of the defense contractors in town.”

“Was he a pilot?”

Wes shook his head. “No. He did something out at the airfield, I think, but he never really talked about it.”

“He still in town?”

“He’s dead,” Wes said matter-of-factly.

“I’m sorry,” Forman said.

“Thanks. It … happened a long time ago.”

Forman gave him a sympathetic nod, then said, “The crash. Tell me about it.”

With a deep breath, Wes did just that, telling the commander about the noise, Danny’s initial reaction, running down the hill to see what was happening, then the realization that the plane was heading right for them.

“You’re sure about that?”

“I’m not an expert,” Wes said, “but I think he must have seen us.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, it seemed like at first he was going to hit us, then I’m pretty sure the engine flared, and he pushed past us and angled out here. At least that’s what it looked like to me.”

The commander took this in for a moment. “And then what happened?”

“I knew he was going down, so I ran for the car. But he hit before I got there. He skidded across the ground, then I took off to see if there was anything I could do to save him.”

“I applaud your courage, Wes,” Commander Forman said. “Your father would be proud of you. But you should know the chances of surviving a crash like that are basically zero. There was little you could have done. The pilot most likely died the moment he hit the ground.”

“Actually, that’s not true, sir,” Wes said.

“I’m sorry?”

“The pilot wasn’t dead. When I reached the cockpit, he was still alive. But his harness was stuck, so I went to get a knife. Before I could get back to him, the cockpit caught fire.”

The commander stared at him for a moment. “Was he conscious?”

Wes shook his head. “Not when I first got there. But he had a pulse, so I did what I could to bring him around, and he eventually came to.”

“Did he say anything?”

Wes struggled to remember. “Told me his harness was jammed. Then he was muttered some other things, but nothing clear.”

“He was alive,” the commander said. Not really a question.

“Yes,” Wes said. “I think Danny even recorded it.”

“Recorded what?” The commander checked his notebook. “Danny DeLeon?”

“Yeah. He’s our second cameraman. He shot everything.”

The commander leaned back, his head nearly touching the wall of the helicopter as he stared past Wes. Then he suddenly sat forward again.

“It would be a huge benefit to me and my team if we could see what was shot.”

“Of course,” Wes said. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

The commander stood up. “Maybe we should take care of that now.”

“Sure. No problem.”

Forman opened the door, then let Wes exit first. Once they were both outside, the commander motioned to Lieutenant Miller. “Come with us.”

Wes and the two officers headed toward the far corner of the awning, where Danny was standing with Dione and Alison.

“Mr. DeLeon?” the commander asked.

“Yes?”

“Your colleague tells me you have footage of the plane from right after the crash.”

“Um, yeah,” Danny said. “I’ve … uh … also got some from while it was still in the air, too.”

“We’d really like to see that,” Forman said. “It could help the investigation.”

“I can show it to you if you want,” Danny offered.

“I was hoping we could take it with us,” Forman said. “I’d like some of our experts to take a look at it and see if it might help determine what went wrong.”

Danny looked uncertain. “We don’t have any way to make you a copy right now. We could do it on one of the laptops back at the hotel.”

“Copying’s not a problem. If you’ll just give us the tapes, we could-”

“Digital card,” Danny interjected.

Forman smiled. “Digital card, then. We can make the copies back on the base.”

Dione took a quick step forward. “Hold on. That footage belongs to the Quest Network. It’s not leaving our hands. If you’d like a copy, you can send someone to pick it up at the hotel.”

“Miss Li, I totally understand your reluctance,” the commander said, his voice calm and accommodating. “I promise you, we will return your original as soon as possible.”

“Oh, no. No one’s giving anything to anyone,” Dione told him. “There’s a certain thing called freedom of the press.”

“Again, I understand your reluctance,” the commander said patiently. “But this isn’t a matter of press freedom. It’s a matter of finding out why one of our men is dead, and trying to prevent it from happening to someone else. All I’m asking for is your help.”

Before Dione could say anything else, Wes jumped in. “Sure,” he said. “No problem. We can get you the card.”

Dione glanced quickly at Wes, her jaw clenched. “This isn’t your responsibility. It’s mine.” She turned her attention back to the commander. “That footage is network property.”

Wes locked eyes with her. “They said they’d give it back as soon as they can. You know it’s the right thing to do.”

She held his gaze for a moment before finally turning away. “Fine,” she whispered.

Wes turned to Forman. “Danny can get you the digital card.”

“But we want it back tomorrow,” Dione demanded.

“We’ll do what we can,” Forman said.

She frowned, then gave Danny a single terse nod.

“Please give it to Lieutenant Miller,” Forman said.

Danny led the lieutenant over to the SUVs.

“I’m going to lodge a formal complaint,” Dione said.

The commander smiled sympathetically. “If you feel that’s necessary, then by all means do so.”

She pulled away from them and marched off to where the others were gathered.

“Sorry,” Wes said as he stood waiting with Forman.

“It’s okay,” the commander told him. “She’s just doing her job. That I can understand.”

A few moments later, Danny and Lieutenant Miller returned. In the lieutenant’s hand was a digital card.

“Thank you,” the commander said. “If we need to speak to you further, we’ll be in touch. But you’re free to go now.”

He started walking back toward his helicopter, Lieutenant Miller falling in step behind him.

“Excuse me,” Dione said.

The commander looked back. “Yes, Ms. Li?”

“Don’t you need to know where we’re staying? So you know where to return the card when you’re done?” There was more than a little accusation in her question.

“Of course. I’m so sorry. Sometimes I get too focused on the task at hand. Where are you staying?”

“At the Desert Rose Motel on China Lake Boulevard,” Wes said.

“Thank you. We’ll get the card back to you as quickly as possible.”

“We appreciate that.”

“Again, thank you all for your help.”

As the crew climbed back in the SUVs, Wes took a final look at the mangled remains of the plane. He was trying to think of something more he could have done, but he knew deep down there was nothing. He got behind the wheel, then headed back to Ridgecrest.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Dione said to Wes once they’d reached the highway.

Wes remained silent.

“They had no right to take our footage.”

“I don’t know if they had a right or not,” Wes said. “But it wasn’t worth arguing about. We watched someone die out there today, remember?”

She took a deep breath. “I realize that. It’s just I don’t like being taken advantage of.”

“So you’re taking the moral high ground on this?”

“Damn right I am.”

“You thought it was perfectly fine to have Danny shooting footage of the trapped pilot?”

“Don’t get righteous on me, Wes. News teams shoot that kind of stuff all the time.”

“Last I checked, we weren’t a news team.”

“It doesn’t matter that we’re not a news team,” she said, getting heated. “We witnessed a news event, and were the only people on the scene.”

“So it was our obligation,” Wes said.

“Absolutely.”

Wes caught Danny’s eyes in the mirror and shook his head. Danny arched an eyebrow, but gave a slight nod and remained silent.

The truth was, they did have the footage. Wes had gotten the auto-backup system working that morning before they’d left the hotel. It was set up to wirelessly transfer everything from the cameras to a flash hard drive in the back of the Escape at fifteen-minute intervals without the operators needing to do anything.

They’d tell Dione in a few days. But not now. If she knew they had the shots, she would have Wes send them to L.A., and they would be on all the networks within an hour.

But that wasn’t really what made Wes keep his mouth shut.

He had been right beside the pilot, had actually talked to him. He’d had the chance to save the man’s life and failed.

This wasn’t news to Wes.

This was far more personal than that.