The sound of bullets tearing thru Zoya's metal hull instantly woke Callen and he simultaneously looked for cover and the shooter. It didn't take him long to realize they were being fired upon from the outside the craft. Getting up off the floor, he started to make his way towards the cockpit to check on Sam and Peter. He could smell the smoke and could tell by the way the bird was flying that things weren't good.
As a second strike of shells raked the helicopter, the door in the cargo area flew open; one of the shots damaged the mechanism holding it closed. A warning light in the cockpit went off and Peter mildly suggested to Sam he'd better go check on Tom. "If he is still asleep he might roll out the door."
Callen saw the door slide open but he was far enough away that he wasn't in any danger; however it did make him vulnerable to the flack. He was starting to make his way forward again, away from the danger zone when the helicopter unexpectedly jerked, flinging him towards the rear of the compartment. Sam, who had just made his way into the cargo area, was also pitched towards the rear of the craft, stumbling into Callen.
Both men fell to the floor in front of the open cargo door when a third volley of bullets hit Zoya. Callen, who was nearest to the door, felt a hot slug pierce his left shoulder. It was traveling at enough velocity that it went through his body before embedding itself in the bulkhead. Callen staggered and Sam quickly reached out and dragged his hurt partner away from the open door.
"G!" he screamed and Callen would have liked to reassure him, but he couldn't get his brain to form the words. Sam cradled his partner's body for a few seconds before Callen feebly struggled to get loose.
The helicopter lurched again and rapidly started to descend. Finally able to put a few coherent words together Callen said, "Go check on Peter. Make sure someone is flying this thing."
Sam knew Callen was making sense so he propped him up against the wall and headed back to the cockpit. Callen found himself in a catch 22; he needed to lean against the wall to remain upright but that made his back throb along with his shoulder.
Up in the cockpit, Peter struggled to keep Zoya in the air. "She's not gonna make it. I'm going to have to land. I'm thinking it would be best if you two weren't onboard."
Sam considered the statement then nodded. "You're right."
Peter pursed his lips. "Am I correct in my assumption that you and your friend have jumped from a helicopter in a previous life."
"Yes," Sam answered succinctly.
Peter reached over on the instrument panel and flipped a switch. "Ok, here's the play. There is a lake coming up. I'm gonna go in low and slow and you guys are going for a swim. Sorry, but I can't hover Zoya for you."
"Understood. But what about you, when you land. What will they do to you?" Sam asked concerned for his friend safety.
Peter laughed lightly. "I have enough friends on both sides of the border to escape with a smack on the wrist and a warning. Especially if I promise to bring them some goodies. Trade is the language of forgiveness."
Sam clapped a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Good luck my friend." Sam slowly turned away and headed back to the cargo area.
"Drop me a postcard when you get home," Peter called over his shoulder.
Callen raised his head when Sam came back into view. "What's the plan?"
Frowning, Sam grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder before kneeling next to his partner. "Water landing, except we are not landing. You up for a swim?"
"I'm not a SEAL like you, but I can doggy paddle," Callen answered lightly.
Sam looked at the growing blood stain on Callen's shirt and got very serious with his partner. "G. I gotta know if you can do this."
Callen's pain-filled blue eyes bore into Sam's. "Is there a choice? We either jump into the water and swim or hold on tight when Zoya crashes. I like my odds with the water better." Callen and Sam were both able to fly helicopters and they knew that Zoya was going to crash. "Peter?" Callen asked.
"Maybe he'll bail. Maybe he'll go down with her." Sam reached over and helped Callen to his feet; the movement made his head foggy and he swayed and almost went down.
"G!" Sam said frantically.
"I got it Sam," Callen ground out between clenched teeth as fought back against the dizziness and pain. "I can do this," he murmured as much for Sam's reassurance as for his own.
The two men moved slowly over to the open cargo door, lowered themselves onto the metal floor and hung their legs out the opening. Sam grabbed onto a support handle and leaned further out the door to see where they were located in regards to the water. He spotted the deep blue lake about one mile head. "About a mile," Sam announced glancing over at his partner and noticing his eyes were shut again. Sam had to make sure he quickly got to his injured partner's side once they hit the water; he had serious doubted Callen could swim for long.
The lake was fast approaching and both men scooted closer to the edge of the cargo bay in preparation to jump. They felt the helicopter slow down and Peter yelled back from the cockpit, "30 seconds boys."
Sam glanced over at his partner again; his eyes were open and he was staring down at the passing ground. Sam grew concerned when he detected a shadow of uncertainty in Callen's face. It scared him that Callen seemed to have some doubts about his ability to make this jump. He reached over and placed a gentle, reassuring hand on Callen's good shoulder and G turned his head and gave him a tight smile.
The land was now replaced by water and the copter was flying low to the surface. As they neared what Sam estimated to be the center of the water mass, he held up three fingers and did a silent countdown. When his hand became a fist, they leapt into the lake.
Folding his arms across his chest, Sam hit the water feet first and nearly vertical. He sliced thru the surface of the cold water quickly becoming fully submerged. Once below the surface, he unfolded his powerful arms to stop his decent and stated stroking upwards being sure not to lose the backpack. When his face cleared the water, he gulped in a few lungs full of air while he scanned the surface for any sign of his partner. Treading water and rotating in a circle he grew increasing anxious when Callen did not emerge.
When Callen jumped, he used his good hand to grab his injured arm and haul it has close to his body as possible, trying to get a streamlined entry to the water. He hit a little less than vertical but close enough that he cut through the water fairly cleanly plunging rapidly towards the bottom. The problem came when he tried to open his arms to stop his decent and couldn't do so on his injured side. Only being able to stroke with one arm caused his body to tilt and he quickly lost his orientation to the surface. The coldness of the water numbed his mind, muddling his thinking and he fought to curb his rising panic as his lungs started screaming for air. He let a little of his precious air out to form bubbles and looked to see which way they traveled. Determining which way was up, he used his right arm and both legs to kick towards the surface.
Sam saw a disturbance on the water fifteen feet from his current position and he quickly swam in that direction. As Callen's head broke the surface, Sam reached out and provided flotation support. Gasping for air, Callen tread water with his feet while holding on to Sam with his good arm for extra support. When he finally got his breathing under control, Callen started looking around for the shoreline.
"That way," Sam said jerking his head to the east.
Callen followed his motion and saw where the water met the land. Though he estimated it was less than a half-mile away, he had serious doubts whether his remaining strength could take him that far. Suddenly, a large boom echoed across the water and instinctually the men turned towards the sound in time to see a fireball light up the sky.
"Zoya," Sam said mournfully.
Staring into the distance Callen asked rhetorically, "Do you think he got out?" not expecting and not receiving an answer.
Sam shook himself out of his reverie to re-focus on the living. He could see Callen was struggling to tread water without the ability to use of both arms. "We have to head for shore, now." He started moving in the water closer to Callen to tow him to land but before he could reach him, Callen flipped on his good side and started using a modified lifesaving stroke to propel towards the shore keeping his injured shoulder and arm tight against his chest. Sam paced him, ready to lend support if needed, but his partner, independently stubborn as always, resisted any sort of assistance.
The area of the shore closest to them was strewn with large boulders and to get on land would require some climbing. When they got close, Sam pulled ahead and tested the water depth. He could stand with his shoulders and head out of the water which meant Callen, being four inches shorter, would also be able to stand.
From the aching and the coldness of the water, Callen's hold on reality was slipping by the time they reached the edge of the lake. It took a few seconds for him to process what Sam was telling him to do but eventually his brain got it and he stopped swimming, let his feet touch the bottom and found he could stand.
Searching the area around him, Sam found what he deemed was the best spot to try to climb up the boulders. There were a few lower rocks then a larger one which had enough jags in it that one could scale it. Sam successfully clambered out of the water and the rocks then turned and looked expectantly at his partner.
"Come on G. I'll help," Sam coaxed as he took off his pack and laid it aside before bending down and extending one his muscular arms down the boulder's side.
Callen sluggishly made his way through the water to the lower rocks and after several tries, ungracefully hauled his body on top of them. Raising unsteadily to his feet and leaning heavily on the neighboring boulder he looked up at Sam with vacant eyes as if he didn't know what to do next.
"Try to climb. I'll help," Sam instructed as he dropped to his stomach so he could extend his arms further down the side of the rock.
Gritting his teeth Callen used his good arm to secure a hold, found toe holes for his feet and used his bad arm to brace as best as possible against the rock's rough surface. This got him about four feet up the face of the boulder which was enough for Sam to be able to secure a hold on G's right wrist.
"I'll pull and you find new toe holds," Sam told his partner.
As Sam used his considerable strength to pull Callen up, Callen scrambled for higher crevices into which he wedged his feet. They successfully moved Callen another three feet upwards though Sam could see the toll this was taking on his partner so stretching his arms as far as possible, he latched on to the back of Callen's jeans with one hand to help haul him to the top. In doing this, his forearm bounced off Callen's back before coming to rest against it.
Callen's brain lost track of reality and slipped back to a few days ago, interpreting the fact he was suspended by his arms and something was painfully hitting his back as being tortured. His mind screamed escape and he flung his body weight backwards, yanked his arm from Sam's hand. Sam, who wasn't expecting his partner to try to break lose, was caught unawares and lost his grip. Callen broke free and tumbled onto the rocks below, hitting his head, knocking himself unconscious and sliding back into the lake.