“Commander,” Renée gasped. Cam lay curled up against the opposite side of the raft. Valerie was stretched out between them.

“The commander’s conscious, but I don’t think Valerie’s breathing,” Felicia shouted, hurrying back to rev the engine. “We need to get them to the boat.”

Renée scarcely noticed as the small, crowded raft tossed and spun from crest to trough and back up again. Kneeling beside Valerie, she opened her blouse and pressed an ear to Valerie’s breast. She heard a distant heartbeat but she couldn’t detect any movement of her chest. Cupping Valerie’s chin, she tilted her head back, covered her nose with her opposite hand, and sealed her mouth to Valerie’s. As she blew into her lungs, all she could think was that Valerie was cold. Cold as ice. Cold as death.

“Come on, Valerie. Come on.” Renée blew another breath. “Breathe. Goddamn it. Breathe.” She felt the barest flicker as Valerie’s chest rose beneath her hand and she hurriedly pressed her cheek to Valerie’s breast again. This time the heartbeat was slow and even fainter than before. Far slower than it should be. Frantically, she yelled over her shoulder, “She’s breathing, but I’m not sure for how long. Hurry up or we’re going to lose her!”

“This is Staff Sergeant Donaldson reporting,” Donaldson’s voice announced through the speakers.

Paula straightened up abruptly. “Where is everyone else?”

“The agents are engaged with resuscitation efforts, ma’am. I have the conn, and we are returning to base.”

“Status?” Paula snapped.

“Two casualties.”

“Put that launch right up on the beach below our location. Do you copy?”

“Loud and clear.”

Paula signaled to Mac as she spoke and he nodded, murmuring instructions into his radio. “Donaldson—ETA?”

“Ten minutes.”

“How badly are they hurt?” Blair said, standing so close to Stark she could hear her rapid breathing. “Are they burned?” Behind her, she heard Diane groan softly.

“What’s their condition?” Paula asked.

“Major hypothermia. That’s all I can tell you, ma’am.”

“Roger that. Bring them home, Donaldson.”

“Yes ma’am. I’ll be pleased to do that.”

As Paula instructed Mac to call the marina for additional resuscitation equipment, Blair grabbed Diane’s arm and dragged her toward the door. “Come on. We need to get fires going in the bedrooms and fill the bathtubs. We’re going to have to get them warmed up.”

“Shouldn’t we call for an ambulance or something?” Diane asked, hurrying along beside Blair.

“No time,” Blair said, taking the stairs to the second floor on the run. “The most critical thing for an exposure victim is to get them warm as quickly as possible.” Blair stopped outside Diane’s bedroom. “Are you okay?”

Diane stared at her as if she were insane. “This is a nightmare and I keep praying I’ll wake up. But until I do, I’ll do anything I have to. I’m not going to let her die.”

“Don’t worry,” Blair said grimly. “No one is dying tonight.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

It was too dark for Blair to see exactly what was happening on the beach, even with the floodlights on the boat spotlighting the people swarming all over it. When she had attempted to run down in search of Cam, Paula had informed her that both she and Diane were confined to the house until further notice. Blair would have argued, but that only would have delayed Paula in organizing the teams to get Cam and Valerie up to the house. She was acutely aware that Paula was doing everything possible to take care of the injured, even though she had to be crazy with worry over Renée.

Despite understanding the reasons behind the protocols, Blair couldn’t control what she felt, which verged very close on panic. She just wanted to see Cam, and waiting was agony. She alternated between stalking out to the rear deck and pacing in the kitchen. Diane waited at the window, watching the activity on shore in pale silence.

“Here they come, finally,” Blair said when she was able to make out a clutch of figures transporting a still form on a stretcher toward the house. Only a single stretcher. Her chest tightened. What did that mean? Where was the second casualty? Where was Cam?

“I’m sure they’ll take them right upstairs,” Blair said, concentrating on what she could do rather than letting the terror swallow her. “Let’s go up so we can help.”

Within minutes, Felicia and Wozinski half-carried Cam into the bedroom. She was wrapped in an emergency thermal blanket and, other than her shoes, appeared to be naked. Her face was gray and her skin looked rubbery from the cold, but Blair was nevertheless enormously relieved to see that she was conscious and making some effort to walk. Blair pushed back the covers on the bed. “Over here.”

“I’ll get the IV set up,” Wozinski said, as Felicia and Blair helped Cam into bed.

“No,” Cam rasped. “You and Felicia give Savard a hand with Valerie.”

“Stark had supplies brought over from the emergency aid center at the marina,” Blair said, replacing Cam’s damp blanket with several layers of dry ones. “I heated four liters of saline in the microwave. Greg, I can help you get Cam’s line started while Felicia assists in the other room.”

“Yes ma’am,” Greg said.

Cam shook her head weakly. “I can wait—”

“No, you can’t,” Blair said firmly. “Go ahead, Greg.”

Felicia said, “I’ll be next door with Valerie.”

When Greg left to get supplies, Blair sat on the edge of the bed next to Cam. She cupped her cheek, shuddering inwardly at the icy touch. “Are you injured anywhere?”

“Bumps and bruises.” Cam’s teeth chattered. “Fire feels good. Maybe I can sit closer.”

“As soon as you get some warm fluids into you.” Blair stroked her face. “You know that rapid external rewarming can cause problems.” Blair had skied in enough remote areas to know the protocol for exposure and hypothermia. So did all of her security staff, and every shift contained at least one agent who was an EMT like Savard and Wozinski. Many hypothermia victims died during the initial resuscitation attempts because warming the outside of the body without raising the internal temperature led to cardiac collapse. “We’ll get you warmed up as fast as we can, but we’re not taking any risks.”

“Right now I’d take my chances,” Cam said, shivering violently. “Christ, I’m cold.”

“I’ll get some more blankets.”

“No,” Cam said, grasping Blair’s hand. “It won’t help. Just…stay close.”

“I can do better than that.” Blair kicked off her shoes, shed her jeans, and got under the covers. She cradled Cam’s head against her shoulder and wrapped her arms and legs around her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Cam had drifted off by the time Wozinski returned. He silently and efficiently started an IV in Cam’s right arm and hung a liter of warm saline. “That will run for about ten minutes. I’ll be back to hang the second liter then.”

“Thanks, Greg.” Blair said, stroking Cam’s hair. “For everything.”

“It’s an honor, ma’am.”

Alone, Blair closed her eyes, even though she wasn’t tired. She wasn’t planning on sleeping. All she wanted was to listen to Cam breathe.

“Glad you’re here Greg,” Renée Savard said, applying EKG pads to Valerie’s chest. “Start another IV in her left arm, would you. We need to get another bag of the hot stuff into her. Her temp’s ninety-two.”

“Got it.”

“Tell me what I can do,” Diane urged, pressing close to the side of the bed near Valerie’s head, trying not to interfere but wanting desperately to do something. Valerie looked so white, so still…so lifeless. “Please.”

“Here.” Felicia tossed Diane a thermal towel from the emergency kit brought over from the marina. “Dry her hair and when that towel gets cool, I’ll get you another hot one.”

Valerie moaned, her body twitching reflexively when Diane touched her. Diane blocked out the sound and concentrated on doing anything she could to get her warm and dry. “Is she going to be all right?”

“Yes.” Renée placed an oxygen mask over Valerie’s face. “Here, hold this on. It’s really important. The warm air will heat the blood in her lungs and help raise her core temperature.”

“I’ve got it,” Diane said, taking the mask from Savard. When Valerie moaned again and jerked her head away, threatening to dislodge the mask, Diane leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Valerie, darling, it’s Diane. You’re all right. You’re safe. Let us help you.”

Valerie’s eyelids, so bloodless that the blue of her irises shone through the skin, flickered and opened. Wordlessly, she stared into Diane’s eyes.

Diane smiled and caressed her forehead above the re-breathing mask. “You’re going to be all right. I love you.”

Valerie nodded almost imperceptibly and closed her eyes again. Diane shivered, not from cold, but from the pain of losing that brief connection. “Tell me what to do. Tell me how to help her,” she said desperately.

Renée slid an arm around Diane’s shoulders and hugged her briefly. “You’re here, and she knows it. That’s exactly what she needs.”

“Do we know yet what happened out there?” Renée said, slumping into a chair in the command center. Mac and Paula hunched over the monitors. Printouts spewed from several nearby machines.

“Theories—no confirmation.” Mac said, looking over his shoulder. “How are they doing upstairs?”

“Both stable. Valerie’s in for a rough ride for a while.”

“Mac,” Paula said, pushing away from the computer console, “take over here for a second.”

“Sure thing, Chief,” Mac said.

Paula grasped Renée’s hand and gently guided her to her feet. Then she wrapped an arm around her waist and led her toward the hall. “You need to change your clothes. They’re wet.”

Renée looked down as if realizing for the first time that her shoes and jeans and shirt were dripping. She shivered. “Yeah. Good idea.”