In a Prison Trapped - Cover

In a Prison Trapped

Copyright© 2009 by closetfan

Chapter 16

"I'm baaaaaack!" Virgil bellowed, as he burst through Walt's open door, his arms flung wide.

"So I hear." Walt concentrated on his paperwork.

"Didntcha miss me?"

"Huh?" He looked up. "You say something?"

"I've been gone for three weeks and that's all you hafta say?"

"Three weeks, huh? You been gone that long already? Seems like only yesterday."

Walt stood abruptly and extended his hand to shake, "Course I missed you!"

He slapped him on the back. "Let's get a cup of coffee, I'll bring you up to date."

The two men were pelted with "Welcome back, Virg!" as they entered the claustrophobic coffee break room.

He looked puzzled at the dozen or so coworkers. "What's this?"

"Sorry, Virg. No way could I keep them from doing this. But hey, it's free bagels and coffee, so don't complain."

As the stories of all the excitement of the past three weeks waned, Virgil looked to Walt and rubbed his hands together. "So when can I go back out?"

"Not until you pass the physical."

"Aw, c'mon, Walt. I'm fit. And my doc gave me a clean bill of health."

"Virgil, you know the policy. Anyone out for more than five days on sick leave needs to be rechecked for physical fitness. I can't have you run out of steam in the middle of a rescue. If our doc tells me you're fit enough for full duty, then you can take the next rescue. Until then, you're desked."

"Oh, man. How long will it take to get an appointment with her?"

Walt looked at his watch, "You have eight minutes to get down to the infirmary."

"Yeah? Cool." Delighted, Virgil bolted out the door.


As soon as the physical ended, Virgil made a beeline to his boss's office. Walt motioned him to sit down. He was on the line with Jack, who was manning dispatch while his arm mended.

"Virgil, I told you the next rescue was yours if you passed the physical, and Doc Gorman called a minute ago and said you're fit as a fiddle. I got the perfect job for you. Rob'll partner with you until Jack's back in the air." He handed Virgil a paper with the details.

"A HORSE?" Virgil shouted.

"You said you wanted the first rescue after you passed your physical, and this is it. We're the closest group with a helicopter strong enough to get it out. Take the new chopper; it has more power than the Bell."

Walt hesitated, deep in thought before he added, "Take Dave and Janet as well. You may need the extra manpower and Janet knows horses. She's got a few herself."


As Virgil flew towards the rescue site, Rob asked, "So how did this horse get stuck in the mud?"

"According to the report, the rider tried crossing a stream that had recently been flooded. The banks were steep and very unstable. Before they could decide if it was safe or not, the sides collapsed. That's about all I know right now. Don't know about the rider. This call was for the horse."

Rob looked down at the coordinates. "We should be almost there." He looked up and out the window and pointed to a hill, "Over there."

Virgil looked at the stark landscape, "I don't like the looks of this."

"Me, neither."

Janet, not having the same view as the pilots asked, "What is it you don't like?"

Rob answered, "The coordinates we're given is just a hill in the middle of nowhere. No stream. No horse. No people. Nothing." Then as an afterthought, he added, "I wish the Trooper came with us."

"Virg, isn't this how you and Jack got ambushed? A false report?" Janet asked, getting nervous.

His knuckles were white on the stick. "Yeah,"

"Why don't we have the Trooper with us?"

Rob responded, "Another call came in minutes before this one and Walt sent him on that one instead."

"I thought all teams were supposed to have a cop with them. What happened?"

Rob shrugged, "Don't know."

He called base, "Hey Walt, there's nothing here. But before we all panic, give me those coordinates again."

As Walt repeated the coordinates, Rob suddenly stopped him, "Did you say eight?"

"Yeah, why? Is your printout wrong?"

"No, not wrong, just poor. The eight looked like a three. Time for new toner in the printer."

Trying not to let anyone know how tense he had gotten, Virgil relaxed the death-grip on the stick and headed in the new direction. The numbers were off enough to have added five miles to the trip.

He said more to himself than the others, "I don't need shit like this first time back into the field."

"Hey, Virg, I'm sorry. I should have questioned this light printout before we took off."

"Don't sweat it, Rob. I'm fine. And that..." he pointed ahead, "looks more like what we wanted."

Virgil came upon a small group of people, some in a creek and some on the bank. He hovered for a moment looking things over, then landed a few yards away. All four rescuers got out and walked over. Greeted by a large, disheveled man who held out his hand, Virgil ignored the fact that there was more mud on his hand than in the stream.

"M'name's Gene. I'm with the local fire department. You know, you guys are legends,"

Virgil, uncomfortable with praise, simply said, "Glad to meet you. Now where's our victim?"

"Over here." Gene ushered the foursome carefully to the edge. Below them several people stood in the creek. Two more on the far bank; one woman comforted another who was crying.

Virgil nodded towards the sobbing individual, "Rider?"

Gene nodded, "Owner/rider."

The rescuers' attention focused down to the stream when the horse, previously invisible to them, thrashed. So mud covered, it blended in with its surroundings.

Seeing the gravity of the situation, Virgil commanded, "Janet, you're the horse person. Go down and try to keep it quiet. Dave, get the sling from the chopper. Get those guys down there to help you get it under the belly. Rob, you come with me. You man the winch."

Janet found a spot a little upstream where she could use rocks to hop over to the other side which had better access to the distressed animal. She was a woman of average height, but built a little stocky. Typical of the people of her Hopi Tribe, her hair hung long and raven black but was always tied in a tight bun during work hours. Although not raised on the Reservation, her family still valued the old beliefs, including having respect for all creatures. And her sincere love for and experience with animals came in handy in situations like this.

Having a difficult time maneuvering in the muck, Dave could see why the horse was stuck fast. Four men were already down by the horse and it was obvious by their appearance that they had been trying for a while to get it out.

Dave held out the sling. "Let's start digging under the horse and try to get this harness under it. If we can get the ring under him, we can put our weight into pulling the whole thing through."

Three quarters of an hour later, Virgil took the call that they were ready. The chopper lifted up in a smooth, effortless motion. He hovered high so that the rotor wash didn't scare the horse more than it already was. Looking out the window and listening to instructions from Rob, he centered the chopper over the rescue site and gave Rob the signal to send down the winch.

The tall lanky flight engineer felt the cable glide through his gloved hand. Tethered to the aircraft, Rob had no fear of following the line down in an unplanned fall.

Virgil listened to his flight mechanics commands, "Left ten. Left ten."

After the pilot moved the chopper ten feet to the left, he heard, "Hold. In position."

Dave waited while Rob fed the clip down to him. As the men struggled to get the sling attached to the winch, one of them slipped and fell taking Dave with him. The hook went flying and Gene ducked to keep from getting hit in the head, but with quick reflexes, he caught it on the back swing. Gathering the two rings again, Dave fastened them. He called up to Rob to take up the slack.

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