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    Three tones blasted through the air and the men went instantly silent. The three tones chimed again and they were on their feet. The radio crackled and command central announced an injured climber on the cliffs of Sea Lion Cove just south of Fort Bragg.
    Ty and the others grabbed the rescue gear, loading it into the Huey as fast and as systematically as possible.
    "Ben, go to the Fort Bragg command center first, but I'll want you to get as close as possible," Brannigan, the helicopter pilot, told the fire apparatus engineer. Ben would drive the heli-tender carrying the fuel for the helicopter as well as extra stokes—the baskets they put the victim in—and everything else needed in emergencies. He would have to take the large truck over the mountainous route to reach Fort Bragg and it would take him at least an hour or more. The helicopter would be there in fourteen minutes.
    Ben nodded and ran for his vehicle. The helicopter devoured fuel and they never went anywhere without the heli-tender.
    The familiar rush of adrenaline coursed through Ty's body, making him feel alive again after living in his cave of a laboratory for so long. He needed this—the wild slam of his pulse, the adventure, even the camaraderie of the other firefighters. He took his place in the back of the helicopter with the other four firefighters, the captain and pilot up front. His helmet was fitted with a radio and the familiar checklist settled everyone down.
    "Commo check," Brannigan said into his mike.
    The crew chief answered, followed by each member of the team.
    "ICS isolation," Brannigan announced.
    In the back, Ty, along with the others, checked their communication box and turned off all radios to isolate themselves from all unnecessary chatter. During the rescue operation it was necessary nothing distracted them.
    Sean Fortune, the crew chief, answered. "Isolated."
    "Pilot is isolated except for channel twenty. All loose items in cabin."
    "Secured," Sean answered.
    Ty felt the familiar tightness in his stomach. He loved the danger and he craved the excitement. In a few minutes they would be airborne.
    "Doors."
    Sean inspected the doors. "Right door open and pinned. Left door is closed and latched."
    "Seat belts."
    "Fastened," Sean confirmed.
    "Rescue supervisor and crew chief safety harnesses."
    Sam and Sean checked the harnesses very thoroughly. "Crew chief secured. Rescue supervisor secured."
    "Rescuer rigging."
    Sam stepped forward to inspect the rigging, giving Sean the thumbs-up. "Secured."
    "PFDs." Brannigan continued with the checklist.
    Tension rose in the helicopter perceptibly. They were going over water and the pilot and crew chief were required to wear personal floatation devices or PFDs, as the pilot was more apt to be trapped in the helicopter should it go down over water.
    "Donned," came the response.
    "H.E.E.D.S. and pressure. Pilot's H.E.E.D.S. is on and pressure is three thousand."
    The H.E.E.D.S. was the Helicopter Emergency Evacuation Device, which was a mini-scuba tank with a two-stage regulator.
    "Crew chief's H.E.E.D.S. is on and pressure is good."
    Sam answered as well. "Rescue supervisor's H.E.E.D.S. is turned on and pressure is good."
    "Carabineers."
    Ty gripped the edge of the seat. This was it. They were going up and he hadn't done a short haul over water other than in training in two years. He'd kept up the training and was confident he wouldn't let the others down, but the rescuer was determined by rotation and today he had the short straw. He was going out on the rope.
    Sean responded to the pilot. "Unlocked." Over water they always flew with the carabineers unlocked as it would take too long to unlock them in the event the helicopter went down.
    "Airborne," Brannigan announced calmly to command center as he took the Huey into the air.
    The adrenaline poured into Ty's veins, a rush unlike any other. Nothing compared to it, not even the time when he unlocked the key to cellular regeneration and won a Nobel