Forget Me Not (Love in the Fleet)

by Ashby, Heather

  Once the rain lightened up, Sky and Mikey assessed their surroundings and saw only ocean in all directions. Except for east. “Holy shit, Sky. Is that what I think it is?”

  Sky turned as best he could from his tethered position on the flotation. How could he have any adrenaline left in his system after that death-defying egress? But apparently he did, because all of it dumped into his system the second he saw the fins.

  Chapter 30

  “Romeo, Romeo, Wherefore Art Thou, Romeo?” screamed Saturday’s headlines.

  Yesterday’s news reported a Navy Seahawk MH-60R “Romeo” helicopter had been shot down by Narco-Terrorists off Central America and that three crewmembers who had bailed out had been rescued. Daisy fought the nausea that climbed up her throat as she read the latest update. The pilot and co-pilot were still missing. Along with the helicopter. There was speculation that all were at the bottom of the Eastern Pacific Ocean. Her blood turned to ice.

  Lillian patted Daisy’s shoulder as they read the newspaper spread out on the reception desk. “Look, you don’t even know if it’s Cap’n Crawford and his co-pilot.”

  Daisy swallowed hard, not trusting her voice. “Well, they’re somebody’s husbands, boyfriends, brothers, or sons.”

  “And look, it says ‘a vast array of small islands and atolls in the vicinity.’ So maybe—just maybe—the pilots are holed up on one of them. And the Navy just hasn’t found them yet.”

  “Right, Lillian. Even with radios, flares, dye markers, and all those other things Jack told me pilots carry in their flight suits and survival gear.”

  “Listen, if you want to close the clinic today, everyone would understand. I mean, I don’t know why we bothered to open on a holiday weekend. We could go to my house and follow the news.”

  “No, I want to work. It keeps me from thinking. I have to stay busy. I’ve got all those lab reports to go over and then the first client at…” Daisy flipped through charts on the desk. “Nine o’clock. Come on. There’s nothing we can do about a flight accident except pray for those involved. I’ll be in the lab.” Daisy headed down the hall, then stopped and added, “But, Lillian, you will let me know if there’s any news, won’t you?”

  Lillian was right. What in the world were they doing open today? Daisy had said it kept her from thinking, but now that she was there, all she wanted to do was finish reading the paper, surf the net, glue herself to CNN, or run to Panama and find Sky herself. She kept jumping to the conclusion he was part of the downed crew. And that Little Girl was the lost Romeo. No names of the aircrew had been released yet. She knew they usually waited until—

  Do not go there, Daisy Schneider.

  This could not be happening to her twice in one lifetime. Sick fear coiled in her stomach as she tried to focus on the lab reports for Mrs. Stevens’ cat, Camille. Daisy chastised herself. She should have shared the results with Mrs. Stevens before the holiday. But no, she’d been completely discombobulated ever since the break-up with Sky. And now with the lost Romeo…

  Lillian didn’t know it, but ever since the news broke late yesterday, Daisy had been busy checking on her lost Romeo. She’d emailed and texted Sky several more times, asking him to please let her know he was okay. She reassured herself he hadn’t responded because he was out searching for the lost helo and wouldn’t have time to check his messages. Had they even gotten through? Wasn’t he in international waters or something?

  She’d driven to Sky’s apartment, ostensibly to check on Daisy Mae, but also to question Sky’s roommate about Sky being the lost pilot. She got the old military runaround answer: “I can neither confirm nor deny that, ma’am.” Daisy Mae appeared to be in good hands—and hissed at her—so Daisy did not take her home as planned.

  She had even called the Hellcats’ office on the Navy base, although she knew that drill too: the squadron would be on lock-down about releasing any information concerning a mishap. Daisy had grown to hate the word, mishap. Like it was an official term for an oops. An oops that had already claimed her first love. But she also knew from Jack’s death that squadron mates sometimes unofficially bent the rules as long as it didn’t compromise safety or an investigation.

  She got as far with them as she did with Sky’s roommate. The Squadron Duty Officer wouldn’t tell her anything because she wasn’t a relative. When she admitted she was Sky Crawford’s girlfriend, she was certain she heard a snicker. It was entirely possible half the women in Jacksonville had considered themselves the Skylark’s girlfriend at one time or another. Daisy shuddered when she realized she might not have even been the first woman to call and check on him.

  Focus, Daisy, focus.

  She snapped herself back from staring at the walls of the lab. Camille’s cholesterol looked a little high, but since his creatinine was within the normal range, her kidneys were probably functioning normally. And total protein looked good so...

  It probably wasn’t Sky and Mikey anyway. Whoever was lost, she hoped they would be found safe. Sky would come waltzing back into the clinic in a month with Daisy Mae as if nothing bad had happened between them. So why was she so torn up, waiting to hear news about the lost Romeo, hoping and praying that Sky had not been aboard?

  But as much as she tried to tell herself otherwise, she knew the answer. Because she loved him. She loved how he radiated positivity and how he made her laugh. She loved how he said the sweetest, most natural things without thinking first, how he interacted with children and Captain Duncan. How he’d honored Jack’s memory by refusing to make love to her. She loved what an affectionate and considerate lover he turned out to be. And how a white picket fence was part of his dream—to keep her dogs in the yard.

  So she dropped all her defenses and offered up the prayer that was as old as time itself, “God, if you let him be okay, I’ll do anything you ask. I’ll take him back. I’ll forgive him. I’ll even marry him. Just bring him back safely to me.” Caution reared its ugly head when she remembered she didn’t even know if he was one of the lost pilots.

  But then Daisy remembered that she had certainly been lost.

  And Sky had found her.

  And brought her back to the world of the living.

  Checking her watch, Daisy saw it was after nine. She filed the lab reports and walked down the hall to Exam Room One, pulling the file from the door. It would have to be Mr. Miller. Poor man was always in the wrong place at the wrong time. His schnauzer apparently had an abscessed paw today. Daisy took a deep breath. She could do this, even though the pain in her heart nearly paralyzed her as she reached for the doorknob. One foot in front of the other.

  She pasted a smile on her face and greeted her client. “Hello, Mr. Miller. What seems to be the problem with Bonzo today?”

  “He got into a fight with the neighbor’s dog last week, Doctor Schneider, and I think this paw is infected. It just won’t heal.”

  “Let’s take a look.” No matter how hard she tried to focus on checking Bonzo’s vitals and examining his paw, and even chatting mindlessly with Mr. Miller, Daisy’s mind was elsewhere. She could call Sky’s friend in Norfolk. Bill Gates? No, his real name was Philip something. Philip what? What was Hallie McCabe’s married name? Daisy had tried all their names on Facebook. Forget calling Information. Most people didn’t even have house phones any more. Anyway, Hallie McCabe Whatever would certainly be unlisted anyway.

  “It does look infected, Mr. Miller. Let me clean it up a little for you and we’ll get him on some good antibiotics.” She reached for the sterile water and gauze, and proceeded to clean out the wound, against the better judgment of Bonzo, who squirmed and whined.

  But her mind was on another mission. Wouldn’t it be a little too weird if Sky had gone off upset with her and been shot down, just like Jack? She better plan on becoming a spinster for the rest of her life if that was the case.

  Ol’ Bad Luck Dais
y Schneider.

  And she’d better focus on Bonzo. What was it today? Oh, that’s right. Abscessed paw. Prescribe antibiotics.

  “Everything okay, Dr. Daisy? The last time I was here, um...” Mr. Miller radiated concern.

  “I’m so sorry you had to be privy to that, Mr. Miller. It was totally unprofessional for me to deal with personal issues at work. I apologize again for my friend. It’s true. My husband was killed in Afghanistan—oh, it’s okay. It was several years ago, but my friend just found out that day and was understandably upset.”

  The door burst open and Lillian flew in. “Doctor, there’s a Lieutenant Philip Johnston in Norfolk on the phone for you. He says it’s urgent. About Cap’n Crawford.”

  “No!...No! No! No! No! No!” And then turning to Mr. Miller, she continued. “Shit!...Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!”

  And then she cried to no one in particular as she ran down the hall to the phone, “Damn you, Cap’n Crawford! You promised! You said you’d always come back and I was stupid enough to believe you!”

  But a plan was already formulating in Daisy’s head as she raced toward the phone.

  “Forgive us, sir, for disrupting your holiday weekend.” Daisy patted Belle’s head while staring across the desk at the Hellcats’ Commanding Officer.

  “Don’t give it a thought, Dr. Schneider. We’re here until the Romeo is found. I understand you have some information for me.”

  “I was just informed my fiancé was on board the lost Romeo.”

  “You mean…?”

  Daisy glanced down at the diamond ring glittering on her left hand. Thanks, Jack. She’d been frantic, digging through the boxes on her dresser when she rushed home to grab the dogs’ harnesses, their credentials, and Jack’s engagement ring. “Sky Crawford, sir.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “Sky? Engaged? Well, we have been in touch with his next of kin. Didn’t they inform you?”

  “That’s not important, sir. Finding him is. I want permission to bring my tracking dogs and join the hunt.” She dug out the dogs’ papers, prepared to share them with Sky’s CO.

  “You want to bring your dogs?” Commander Andrews leaned over and pressed a button. “Chief, call the Commodore’s office. I need to talk with him ASAP. It concerns our current search and rescue effort.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Then turning back to Daisy, Sky’s CO continued, “Ma’am, I’ll take any help I can get, but the Commodore, Captain Christensen, is my boss and whatever we choose to do he’d find out sooner or later. And if he finds out sooner, he could override my authorization. And if he finds out later, he’d probably fire me. Plus we’d need his pull to get you on another squadron’s aircraft if he gives us the go-ahead. Besides, I can assure you we’re already doing everything within our power to find them.”

  “I know. I know. But it’s not enough. We want to help.”

  “You and your dogs?”

  “This is Belle.” Daisy waved Belle’s training records at the captain. “Not only is she a certified tracker, but she knows Sky. Hopefully my other dog, Godiva, will not be needed. She’s a trained cadaver dog.”

  He winced. “I hope that won’t be—”

  They were interrupted by the arrival of the Commodore. Commander Andrews came to attention. “Sir, we would have come to you, but thank you for joining us.”

  “Sit, sit, John. I needed to get out of my office. And I heard you had some interesting visitors. Now what can I do for you and Ms...?”

  She shook his hand. “Daisy Schneider, sir. Dr. Daisy Schneider, DVM.”

  Captain Christensen pulled up a chair and listened to Daisy repeat her offer. He then briefly explained the various open ocean search plans utilized by the Navy and Coast Guard. And filled her in on what was being done so far in the search for the lost Romeo. He concluded with a tentative smile. “Ma’am, I understand your concern, but I’m afraid we can’t give you authorization.”

  Daisy leapt from her seat. “Screw authorization! My first husband died when his Cobra was shot down in Afghanistan! He had no business even being on a second deployment, because of his PTSD! But I minded my own business and did not go to his CO to keep him from deploying. I played it safe. Didn’t want to make waves. But not this time. I’m not going to stand by and let Sky die too! I want to help. And I will not let the lack of any fucking authorization get in my way. My dogs and I want in on this mission and we want in now!”

  Belle jerked her head at the outburst, but otherwise did not move since she was in working mode. Godiva whined but also remained still. Daisy sat down and caught her breath, unsure of what unearthly power had possessed her, but secretly glad of it. Her pulse pounded in every cell of her body, reminding her she was alive and dammit all, she would do whatever it took to make certain Sky was too.

  The Commodore raised his palms in defense. “Ma’am, you’ve got to understand. We’re doing everything in our power to search the waters. I don’t know how your dogs could even help. Do you have any idea how many square miles of ocean are out there where they could possibly have been shot down?”

  “And what are you doing about the atolls and islands? Do you have any idea how many obscure tropical islands are out there in your square miles of ocean? You have to let me help. Please,” Daisy pleaded.

  Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes but she would not give in to them. She didn’t want these men feeling sorry for her. She wanted them to sign her on. “Please, let me at least try. You don’t understand. I couldn’t save my first husband, but I just might be able to save my second, if you will just give me authorization.”

  Captain Christensen steepled his index fingers, brought them to his mouth, and meditated on them for a few seconds. Then he fixed his gaze on Sky’s Commanding Officer. “I’m going to authorize a dog handler and either a search dog or a cadaver dog.” He turned to Daisy. “You choose, ma’am. There will only be room for one dog on the mission.”

  Daisy instinctively reached for Belle, who symbolized life.

  The Commodore stood and addressed Commander Andrews one more time. “There will be no mention of any relationship between the handler and one of the missing pilots. That’s something I never knew. And neither did you, John. Are we clear?”

  “Aye, aye, sir,” he replied.

  “Thank you, sir,” Daisy added.

  “You have to understand, ma’am, even though the frigate was on the scene within an hour, it took another three hours for other air assets to arrive,” the aircrewman onboard the Navy P-3 explained to Daisy on the flight to Panama. “Add to that the fact that the Romeo was flown beyond the line of sight and beyond hearing distance of the crewmembers who bailed out. And there was a really rough squall in the area when they ditched the aircraft. So even if...” He cleared his throat. “I mean, when they got out of the helo, they could have been miles away from where their crewmembers jumped out. And they may have drifted in a totally different direction. All these factors exponentially expand the area of uncertainty as to where they could be now.”

  Daisy understood the Navy was still trying to ascertain exactly where the helicopter went down. Assuming the pilots bailed there, then that point of egress would be considered the “datum,” or the central point from which all search patterns would radiate.

  “Initially, we were using the location of the Mayday call as the datum, even though we know the aircraft didn’t impact the water in that immediate area. But we’ve decided the location of where we picked up the first three survivors is a more accurate starting point. Again, we don’t know which direction they went after that. Or, more importantly, how far the pilots took the aircraft after their crewmen bailed out. But obviously the aircraft didn’t impact the water in the immediate vicinity of the Mayday call.

  “Anyway, the first SAR is the Sector Search, that looks like this.” He drew a pattern as
he explained. “We take one-hundred-twenty degree slices, like pieces of pizza, with the point of each piece radiating from the datum. Each time we finish flying that sector, we fly across the datum once again. This is primarily used when we’re fairly certain what we’re looking for is near that point, but we’re not certain of drift direction.”

  Everything began to run together in Daisy’s head. Datum, egress, sector, Mayday, pizza for God’s sake. She stroked Belle’s head repeatedly to ease her tension.

  “Next is the Expanding Square Search.” The petty officer placed a dot in the middle of a piece of paper. Then starting at the dot, he drew a square maze around it, each side increasing in length as it made its way around the datum. “This is the one they’re primarily using now, as it gives them an intense search area expanding out from a relatively well-established datum.”

  “What about a Parallel Line Search?” Where in the hell had that come from? The aircrewman looked at her with renewed respect. “It’s something I remember my late husband explaining to me. He was…a helicopter pilot.” Although Daisy’s heart slammed in her chest, she pushed aside all thoughts of Jack. She needed to focus on finding Sky.

  The aircrewman glanced up at her nervously. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry, ma’am. If we knew where the pilots might have been headed, we could use the Parallel Line Search or Creeping Parallel Line, as it’s sometimes called. Here, let me show you.” He sketched out the pattern until Daisy was lulled back to high school Geometry class and it was too much for her to absorb. All she wanted to know was what she could do to help.

  “Anyway, you’re going to leave all of that to the ships and aircraft, okay? And focus on dry land. Because, yes, it is possible they made it to one of the atolls, although highly unlikely. Sorry, ma’am, but that’s just a fact. I mean, they each had a survival radio and flares, but there’s been no...” He cleared his throat and glanced around the cabin, looking anywhere but at her.