Under Fire: The Admiral Read Online Free PDF Page A

Storm is
moving too fast.” She flung him the edge of the biggest tarp and
together they shook it open. Using the hammock as a centerline,
they draped the high-tech waterproof material to create a roof. The
wind blew a good twenty knots now and Walsh fought to hold the
lightweight material down as she secured the corners and edges.
Gemma worked quickly to spread the second large tarp underneath,
bringing up the edges on the open sides to create walls. Stinging
rain mixed with a screeching wind as they dragged the cloth with
their items to the shelter.
    She pushed Walsh to the opening. “Get
in.”
    “What about you?” he called as he scrambled
inside.
    “Right behind.” She shoved the bags and tarp
in then secured a water collector, took a last look around and
joined Walsh, drawing up the tarp behind her and sealing the
gap.
    She pulled a light stick from her pocket, and
a snap later the space was flooded with a horror movie green
glow.
    “Reminds me of home,” Walsh said as she hung
the stick above them on the hammock cord.
    “I’d like to see that.”
    “Survivor woman, are you fishing for an
invitation?”
    Lightning lit the space like day. They both
ducked reflexively and once again a second later when the thunder
reverberated in the dense air. Another flash followed immediately
with a boom that sucked the air from Gemma.
    “Holy shit,” Walsh said. “That was
close.”
    “Yeah.” She nodded. “Once the leading edge is
through it should get better.” She had a feeling they were in for a
long night.
    “Here.” She handed him a protein bar and
jerky package. “Eat another one of these crappy protein bars. I
don’t know about you but I’m shaky coming off my adrenaline
high.”
    Walsh grasped her wrist. His fingertips
pressed her pulse point.
    “You feeling dizzy? Are you sweating?”
    “I’m fine, Doc. Not dizzy, still sweating.
I’m hungry and getting tired. It’s been a long day.”
    “Okay.” He released her wrist.
    “Well?” she said, tearing open a packet of
jerky with her teeth.
    “Well what?”
    “Am I going to live?” She cautiously put her
tongue to one of the jerky strips.
    “Survivor woman has a strong and steady
pulse.” He used the deep voice again and watched her bite a piece
of jerky off. “Is it safe to assume these things taste better than
the protein bars?” he said and flapped a jerky strip around.
    “Mmm,” she said and shook her head as he took
a huge bite.
    Rain came hard and the tarp began to take
debris pings. Coconuts and the occasional palm fronds dropped,
sounding like faraway artillery fire between the thunder
boomers.
    “We safe from those coconut bombs?” Walsh
asked.
    Gemma grinned. “You’re more worried about
coconuts than lightning?”
    “Yeah. Way more coconuts than lightning.”
    He had her there. “I picked a spot away from
palms.”
    “Those ropes going to hold?” he asked after a
strong gust.
    “Yes. If I learned anything . . .” She
hesitated and reworked the sentence without in the Coast
Guard , “it’s how to tie knots. It’ll hold.” To give him
confidence she crawled the interior edge, inspecting and tightening
the cord in one spot where wind forced in the occasional mist of
rain. “We’re good.” She sat and wiped her hands on the sides of her
thighs. All in all, she was pleased with the shelter considering
the amount of time spent putting it up. They had enough room to lie
down and the center peak allowed head room for them to sit or
kneel. Tomorrow, as soon as dark clouds appeared on the horizon,
she’d stop and set up a proper shelter off the ground.
    The waterproofed tarps popped with increasing
ferocity but did their job keeping the wind and water at bay. When
the pelting rain sounded like pebbles hitting, she forced Walsh to
move to the center of the shelter for safety. She retrieved the
rain collector, filled their bottles and returned the collector
outside, the rain stinging her arms each time.
    She gave a bottle