member here, in every way, that’s why. Josh was a nice guy and probably extremely competent but Tama’s aura of confidence and ability and sheer…power was palpable.
This was the man Mikki wanted to work with despite whatever he might think of her.
And she wanted to work with him as closely as possible.
CHAPTER THREE
HE SHOULD have been more careful about what he wished for.
Things had started well enough. After a brief tour of the base, issuing Mikki with a pager and explaining how it worked, Tama had taken her into the hangar. One of the helicopters was already outside, with Steve busy checking it, which left plenty of space for them to stand back and admire the back-up aircraft.
‘New Zealand was the first place in the world where a helicopter was used for rescue work, back in 1970.’
‘Really?’ Mikki stepped closer. ‘I didn’t know that.’
‘It was only used for beach rescues for a long time. It wasn’t till 1983 that we started to use them for general rescues.’
Mikki nodded. She seemed to be soaking up the information and Tama found himself unexpectedly enjoying his role. He dismissed the reaction and took a quick glance at his watch. And that was when he started wishing that his pager would go off and give him an excuse to escape Mikki’s company for a while.
‘It’s got an eight-to twelve-seat capacity if it’s not used for medical evacuation but our stretchers and gear take up a lot of seating room. We’re set up to carry seven people and a stretcher or four people and two stretchers.’
‘What’s the range?’
‘Five-forty kilometres, depending on weight and weather and so on. We’ve got auxiliary tanks that extend that quite a bit. Its maximum speed is 278 kilometres an hour and it has a ceiling of ten thousand feet.’ She wasn’t really interested in the chopper’s technical data, was she?
‘So how far can we go on a job?’
‘We’. It still rankled that she was here. That Tama would have to spend so much time and effort allowing her to gain a qualification that she intended to take elsewhere. If she wasn’t Trevor Elliot’s daughter, this would not be a happening thing, would it? And ‘we’would not be going on any jobs for as long as Tama could keep a lid on this situation. He’d like to go on one, though, right about now. It wasn’t going to stay this quiet all day, was it?
‘Operations are normally kept within a 160-kilometre range of base, allowing forty-five minutes each way for travelling and thirty minutes at the rescue scene.’
Tama cleared his throat. He needed to get on with the training tasks assigned for the day. If it was going to stay quiet, then the sooner they got through them, the sooner he could get on with the backlog of journals he wanted to catch up on in his downtime.
‘How much do you know about helicopter safety?’
‘A bit. I worked in the ED of a hospital that had a helipad on the roof. I know not to approach or leave without pilot clearance and to stay in his line of vision. And not to go near when the engine is starting up or running down because the rotors change height.’
‘There’s a few other considerations when we’re out in the field. If you get blinded by dust or something, you have to stop and crouch or sit down. One of us will assist you. If you’re carrying any gear, keep it horizontal and below waist level.’
They moved to the rear of the helicopter where the clamshell doors were open.
Mikki looked impressed. ‘There’s a lot of gear in there.’
‘We’ve got a full set of what you’d expect in a well-equipped ambulance. Full resus gear, including 12-lead ECG monitoring, defibrillator with pacing capability. Suction, traction splints, scoop stretcher, IV gear, fluids, drugs. Usual stuff. Everything we need for initial stabilisation is in this kit.’ Tama touched the large, soft pack strapped near the back of the machine against a folded scoop stretcher and the lightweight stretcher used for winching. ‘Come and meet our pilot, Steve. He should be finished whatever he’s doing outside now.’
He was. And he seemed delighted to meet Mikki. Proud to show off his sleek aircraft.
‘Jump in,’ he invited. ‘See what it feels like from the inside. Ever been up in one of these?’
‘No. Lots of small planes but never a chopper.’
Small planes. Tama almost snorted. Gulfstream jets more likely.
‘I’ve got my private pilot’s licence,’ Mikki added casually, as she climbed into the copilot’s seat. ‘And I’ve done a bit of gliding.’
‘Phew! You’ll be flying one of these yourself next.’ Steve’s gaze was openly admiring and it irritated the hell out of Tama.
‘I’ll do that,’ he growled, moving past Steve before he could show Mikki how the safety belts worked. ‘Don’t let us interrupt your pre-flight stuff. We could get a job any minute, eh?’
He wished! It just wasn’t comfortable having this woman within the close confines of a helicopter, which became more noticeable when they moved into the back so she could see the various seating options and how all the gear fitted. Unbearably so when Tama helped Mikki put on and adjust a seating harness.
It was inevitable that he was close enough to discover that her hair smelt of…what, strawberries? Something summery and fresh, anyway. As fresh as the puff of her breath he could feel on his neck as he leaned in. And there was no way he could avoid brushing her body with his hands on more than one occasion.
This was why he didn’t like the idea of having a female crew member. It was distracting.
Alarmingly so, in this case. She didn’t simply have the usual kind of feminine attractions that any man was programmed to take notice of, she had kept up with him under gruelling physical challenges that would have destroyed a lot of men. She was intelligent. And she had a pilot’s licence as well? Sheesh!
Why wouldn’t that damn pager go off? Tama wished harder and his wish came true. The pager beeped stridently and when Mikki had silenced hers, she looked up at Tama and her face was glowing.
‘A job!’ Her gaze held a plea that would have melted virtually any man. ‘Will I be able to come, too?’
‘No,’ Tama snapped as he read the message on the pager. That was not part of the wish.
‘Why not?’ It wasn’t Mikki asking. Steve walked past the open hatch on his way to the pilot’s seat. ‘We’ve got the room.’
Tama quelled him with a look that warned his colleague not to interfere. ‘It might be a winch job,’ he informed Mikki. ‘You’ve had no training and you’d just get in the way. We’d end up dumping you in a paddock somewhere, along with all the other non-essential weight.’
The excitement drained from her face and a hint of colour crept into her cheeks. Mikki dropped her gaze instantly, presumably thinking she could disguise her disappointment, and her tone was light as she unclipped the harness.
‘That’s
