“The storm over the Atlantic Ocean is too strong. Other rescue pilots can’t penetrate the storm zone. We need your assistance immediately—please respond!”
“If you’ve encountered difficulties, notify us at once. We can send another aircraft to pick you up!”
Even though the helicopter had no fuel and one of my hands was ruined, if the team sent another aircraft, with a co-pilot’s help I might still manage to fly.
If I could just get to them… there was still hope for those stranded at sea.
I staggered to my feet, struggling toward the cabin.
But Chloe snatched up her stiletto heel and smashed the communicator to pieces.
“Answer what? Done playing pretend yet?!”
Jason lit a cigarette, smirking as he piled on.
“She only served two years in the Air Force, but acts like she’s some decorated veteran.”
“She probably doesn’t even know how to fly—she was likely just ground crew, sweeping hangars.”
“She bought a private helicopter with her family’s money, then pretends she’s a national rescue ace. What a joke.”
“What rich girl would ever volunteer for such grueling work anyway?”
I watched helplessly as my one chance to save those lives was destroyed.