by Vivian Arend
“Agreed.” Tim passed back the contracts. “I’ll focus on providing medical attention first and foremost, which means I expect to be given preference when it comes to saving lives. I don’t make suggestions casually.”
“That’s how it’s always worked with the team.” Marcus handed over a set of keys and a card with a handwritten five-digit number. “Door is coded for a silent alarm—the entire building actually. If it goes off, the RCMP and I get a call, and someone will be here in under ten minutes. There’s an extra key there for the supply locker. Go through and familiarize yourself with our layout. If you need to change things up, be sure you do a session with Tripp so there’s no hesitation when it comes to heading out on a call.”
“Narcotics stored here at headquarters?” Tim asked.
“Some. We’ve had a few break-ins with people looking for drugs, so we keep a minimal supply on hand and double-lock them.” Marcus pointed to the second key. “I’ll show you where we keep the contact numbers for the hospital when you need refills. Also . . .”
He handed Tim a metal whiskey flask.
Tim raised a brow, unscrewing the lid and sniffing. Marcus’s expression didn’t give anything away, so Tim took a small shot, sucking for breath as the high-test alcohol cruised past his tonsils.
Marcus grinned. “Medicinal purposes only, of course.”
“Now, you’ll be one of me best-ever bosses, I’d be thinking.” Tim passed over the hooch, drawling out his brogue. “’Tis a sweet dram.”
“You know it.” Marcus tipped back a hit, coughing momentarily as he returned the flask. “Keep it, it’s yours. Welcome to the team—if you make it through probation.”
Tim chuckled as he tucked the container into his pocket. “The presents usually come after I’ve finished hell week.”
Marcus rose to his feet, gesturing toward the door. “You might need that whiskey to make it through, but I have a feeling about you, Tim. I think you’ll do fine.”
Just outside the boardroom doors, Tim jerked to a stop. The entire team stood before him, shoulder to shoulder, arms crossed, expressions set into unreadable neutrality.
“They’re your team now.” Marcus spoke from behind him, the words quiet but clear. “Everything hangs in the balance depending on how well you work together. Do you trust them?”
Tim examined each member one at a time, from the tall and muscular Tripp to the petite blonde Alisha, who seemed too delicate for the task of rescuing.
Appearances were deceiving. This group had proven themselves many times over the years—he was the unknown, the one who had to fit into the puzzle.
It looked as if that started right now. A test of some sort.
“I trust them with my life,” Tim answered.
Anders nodded.
Something about the way they stood gave it away. Tim’s smile grew as he spotted the items carelessly discarded on the floor by their feet. It appeared he was in for an adventure.
“Training games?” Tim asked, not bothering to hide his amusement.
“It seemed a good way to get to know us better,” Devon smirked. “You ready?”
There was no time to answer. A flash of anticipation lit Erin’s eyes a split second before darkness blocked her from view. Tim jolted, every muscle tightening as the fabric bag Marcus dropped over his head left him blind.
“Be gentle with me,” Tim teased, his voice echoing into the silence of the room. “I’ve never done this before.”
A broad shoulder pressed into his stomach, and he was lifted into the air. Tripp, he assumed, or Anders perhaps. No voices, no noise. No hints of where he was being taken. A blanket or something heavy settled on him, but the cold air snuck under the edges as he was carried outside.
Tim relaxed, allowing his rescuer to support him more fully. He maintained enough tension to stop from being a dead weight, but not struggling or making things more difficult.
With nothing to see, Tim relied on his other senses more. The cold sharp feel of the wintry air, the dryer-sheet scent clinging to the blanket.
Ahead of them a van door slid open.
Just because the rest of them were staying silent didn’t mean he had to, but for some reason it seemed right to wait. To let them take the lead in this strange initiation. Tim settled into the seat where he was placed and waited for the ride to be over.
When they arrived, it was a place with solid concrete underfoot as he was led from the van and guided up a short flight of stairs.
A gymnasium. There was the unmistakable scent plus the hollow echolike sounds as they entered. Tim was placed in position, his hands pressed to the back of a chair.
“If you expect a lap dance, I’m afraid I’m not very good.”
That pulled a snort of laughter from someone in the room.
Small noises tickled his curiosity, but he held back from removing the blindfold. He would play the game all the way to the end.
Anders finally broke the silence. “We’re happy to have you join us, but we thought it would be good to run a short training session together. The team follows four guidelines, Tim. You saw them up on the wall at HQ?”
He listed them quickly. “Have patience, move decisively. Trust your team. Give one hundred ten percent.”
That earned him a hum of approval. “You’re observant. That’s part of what we need from you. We hope you’re also creative and innovative.”
“And at least somewhat amusing,” Tripp added, his voice coming from a long distance away. “A sense of humour is key when we’re stuck slogging through some mess for hours on end.”
Tim grinned. “I’m not good at stand-up comedy, but I’ve been told I can turn a tale or two.”
“Right now you get to show your talents in a different way.” All traces of teasing vanished as Anders snapped out the order. “You’ve got ten minutes to assemble the team, beginning now. Take off your blindfold.”
Damn. Okay, they’d managed to surprise him—this wasn’t at all what he’d expected. Tim slipped off the head covering and glanced around the room.
Given that he had a deadline, his first impulse was to instantly head toward the first team member he spotted. The mention of the team rules reminded him to pause. Assessing the situation was always the first step. He had to take the time to judge the situation and not simply fly into it blindly.
He’d been right about the location. It was a gymnasium, probably at a local school. The floor was covered with equipment of all sorts. Gymnastics, climbing frames. Old lockers.
The other members of the team were scattered around the room. Alisha was the easiest to spot where she hung suspended on the wall near the ceiling. Her eyes were covered with a thick swatch of dark material—even though she was safely roped in, she’d have to be directed to the floor.
In the farthest corner Tripp was also blindfolded, an absolute tangle of ropes and clutter standing between him and a clear section of floor in the middle of the room.
That was where Devon was found. He sat on the top of a gymnastics pommel horse. He waved at Tim, in the process showing off that his hands were tied together in front of him, extra lengths of rope leading downward and vanishing down around either side of the heavy structure he sat on.
“Jeez, you guys have a wicked sense of humour yourselves,” Tim noted, turning to face Anders, who stood only a few feet behind him. Nothing tied up, nothing holding him back. Had to be something simple and yet terrible. Anders was the heaviest team member, probably two hundred pounds of sheer muscle. “Let me guess. You’re not going to walk beside me, are you?”
Anders grinned evilly and batted his lashes. “Afraid not.”
Tim took another quick glance but had no luck in spotting the final member of the crew. “Where’s Erin?”
No answer. Bloody hell. He had no time to waste.
“Okay, big guy.” Tim reached for Anders’s hand. “Time to go for a ride.”
He pulled Anders forward while bending at the waist, reaching between the othe
r man’s legs, and with one smooth motion Anders was draped over his back in a fireman’s carry.
Anders chuckled. “Nicely done.”
Tim ignored him, twirling toward the wall where Alisha hung and carefully working his way through the obstacles. “Devon, I need you to talk Tripp through the maze. Got it?”
“No problem.” Devon twisted, and his clear voice rang out. “You’ll need to do some ducking and crawling, Tripp. Quarter turn to your left to start.”
Tim eased his burden a little before lifting them both over a bench blocking the way. “Anders, look around for Erin. Do you see her anywhere?”
“Nothing visible, but I’ll keep checking.”
Devon continued to drone directions in the background. Tim’s burden was heavy enough that his legs were shaking slightly by the time he made it to the wall below where Alisha waited.
“I’m lowering you,” he warned Anders.
A second after settling the man on the ground, Tim had the belay rope wrapped around himself, a backup loop around his leg. “Alisha, you ready to come down?”
She adjusted her stance and securely grabbed the rope. “Lower.”
Hallelujah, he didn’t have to talk her down. “Lowering. Walk slowly, you’ve got a clear path.”
He kept one eye on her, glancing momentarily to the side to see how Devon was coming along with “rescuing” Tripp from the maze. The two of them were nearly together.
“Once I’ve got Alisha down, we’re going to head over to Devon,” he informed Anders.
“Still no sign of Erin,” Anders warned, glancing at his watch.
How long had it been? At least five minutes, maybe more. “You’re touching down in three, two, one . . . now.”
Alisha bent her knees to absorb the landing as Tim slowed her to a stop. “Nice ride,” she complimented him.
He was already working her rope loop free from her climbing belt. “You’ll be walking in front of me toward our target. Listen to my vocal cues, and I’ll guide you over the debris.”
“Got it.”
His heart was pounding, but he took a deep breath and did it again. Picked up Anders, put Alisha in front of him, and stepped slowly toward his penultimate target.
Ahead of them one more challenge was nearly accomplished. “Nice going, Devon.”
Tripp stepped through the final tangle and into the clear. “Am I there?”
Devon laughed. “Almost. Three paces, toward eleven o’clock, and you’ll hit my station.”
They met at the same time. Tim lowered Anders to the floor again. Tripp waited expectantly, Alisha as well, both of them with their eyes still covered. “Give me a second, and I’ll fill you guys in,” Tim offered.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Tripp muttered.
Tim eyed the platform Devon sat on in disgust. “Your rope is too short for you to come and help us lift the anchor rope free.”
“Sorry.” Devon shrugged. “Two-minute warning.”
Shit. “Alisha, I assume your balance is good?”
She snorted. “Umm, yeah.”
Good. Tim got Tripp and Anders into position before doing anything else. “When I say, I want you to lift straight up,” he instructed them.
Alisha waved a hand. “I don’t have anything to lift.”
Tim chuckled. “Don’t be so sure of that. Devon, lean back.”
The man’s eyes widened in alarm, but he obeyed.
Tim caught him before he fell, easing him safely off one side. “Alisha, you’re giving Devon a lift for a couple minutes. Brace your hands on the wood in front of you to help.”
Time ticked away as he arranged Devon over Alisha’s shoulders, her added height allowing the man’s trapped wrists to remain at a safe level.
“Devon, we need to talk about cutting back on trips to the pub,” Alisha muttered, and the rest of them snickered.
“In position, and . . . lift,” Tim ordered.
The entire wooden box of the pommel horse shifted position, a scant two inches, but that was enough. “Devon, drop your hands, now.”
The rope pulled free from under the wood frame, and Devon cheered.
“Put it down, boys.”
He had to be cutting it close. Time would be up, and he still had to find Erin. He helped Alisha lower Devon to the floor, unknotting the rope from the man’s wrists. Then he pushed himself on top of the horse. Tim twisted slowly, examining the room, the obstacles. There seemed to be nowhere large enough for a person to hide. “Erin’s in the room?” he asked.
Anders nodded in confirmation.
Tim collapsed, sprawling on the padded surface of the pommel horse as a sense of deep satisfaction hit. “Then I call time. Mission accomplished.”
Alisha and Tripp removed their blindfolds. Devon checked his watch. “Thirty seconds.”
“That’s our time to spare. Well done, everyone.” Tim clapped in approval.
Anders and Tripp exchanged glances. “You’re missing one team member,” Anders commented.
Tim shook his head. “You said to assemble the team. We’re all here.”
For one second he worried he’d guessed wrong, then Alisha smiled. “How did you figure it out?”
Tim hopped to the floor. “Bigger than a bread box. It’s the only spot in the entire room with enough space to hold her. Also, I’ve been on too many rescues with kids who hid when they got scared. It was the only thing that made sense.”
He motioned for Devon to help him, and together they lifted off the uppermost section only of the pommel horse.
Erin beamed at him as she uncurled herself from inside the wooden box, crawling over the edge and brushing off the dust. “Thank you. It was getting a trifle close in there.”
“Glad you’re not claustrophobic,” Devon teased.
“Do I pass muster?” Tim asked the members who had gathered around him.
“You’re quick on your feet,” Anders admitted. “I liked how you got Devon to deal with Tripp. Good use of the team there instead of assuming you had to do it all on your own.”
“He did assume I needed more help than I did, though,” Alisha pointed out. She faced him straight on, chin held high, her attitude one of competence and power. “You could have asked if I was able to start without you.”
Tim nodded slowly. “You’re right, I didn’t think of that. I underestimated your abilities—I won’t do it again. You’re capable of doing a self-belay, even blindfolded.”
She held up a hand and gave him a high five. “You did well.”
“Thanks.”
“Now the real test,” Tripp warned. “Final, most important decision of the afternoon.”
Tim lifted a brow. “Yes?”
Tripp grinned. “Teriyaki or buffalo wings?”
CHAPTER 8
Easy conversation flowed around the table as everyone on the team got to know Tim better over a relaxing evening at the team’s usual watering hole.
The staff at the Rose and Crown pub had greeted them happily before leading them to the area they’d claimed as their own. Comfortable couches slightly away from the rest of the bar and the live music. A place they could sit and relax.
Erin alternated between lazing and madly assessing exactly what needed to happen next.
They shared rescue stories—a bit of one-upmanship with a twist. Sad stories were in the mix as well. The victims who weren’t reached in time, the heartbreak of having to bring home not a found loved one, but their body.
Everyone who worked in search and rescue knew it could go either way at any time. The flip of a coin, a moment’s chance, and it didn’t matter how skilled the rescuers were.
The unexpected could take even the best of them to their knees without a moment’s notice. It was part of the reason that Tim was there in the first place, replacing Lifeline’s badly injured paramedic.
“What’s the latest word on Xavier? Anyone heard this week?” Anders asked.
Devon waved. “I stopped in the last time I was in Calgary.
He’s okay. A little depressed, but slowly recovering.”
Damn. “Seeing Xavier a little depressed is like seeing a kicked puppy. Anything we can do?”
Devon shook his head. “He needs more time and therapy. He’s still got a good chance of walking again.” Devon turned to Tim. “Our man who got hurt back a few months ago.”
“Tough to see a teammate suffering that hard.” Tim nodded slowly. “If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”
“Will do. Mostly, we keep in touch. Let him know we’re thinking of him.” Alisha stared at her drink. “Try not to feel too guilty that he’s the one who’s there, and we’re still here.”
Devon caught her hand and squeezed her fingers, but the sentiment was there, in all of them.
Sometimes the bad things that happened were inexplicable and wrong, and all you could do was move forward the best you could.
Erin waited and watched, some of her concerns easing as Tim talked about situations where he’d not only accomplished amazing things, but often placed others he’d worked with into the spotlight. The man sitting with the Lifeline team was a different man from the cocky, occasionally arrogant bastard whom she’d lived with years ago.
Working with him wouldn’t be a problem. The skills were still there, the additional years of maturity adding a touch of well-deserved confidence to everything he did.
No, there were other areas she needed to focus on. Other questions.
How far should she take things with Tim? How fast? It was now a given that they would be getting involved, but staying in control was important, and unless she planned ahead she was afraid of losing sight of that, even if Tim appeared to be going along with his promise.
Devon broke in with a change of topic. “Heads up for the holiday season. It’s likely to get crazy around here starting any day now.”
“You’ve got your calendar screwed up.” Anders leaned back on the couch. “It’s still two weeks until Christmas.”
