Her Mistletoe Wish by Lucy Clark

focus on whatever Bergan had called them down to assist with. Professional. She needed to be professional. After all, she’d worked alongside Flynn before; in fact, they’d worked exceptionally well together in the Caribbean…and that had been part of the problem. Too good, too close, too quickly.
    Bergan cleared her throat and everyone around fell silent, waiting for her to speak. ‘The key players are here. We’re just waiting for Mackenzie but she’s just getting out of Theatre so we’ll begin without her.’ Bergan pointed to the computer monitor, which was revealing a picture of the main beach in Maroochydore. ‘We’ve had a report from the surf lifeguards that a shark has been sighted on the beach. They’ve closed the area but have just spotted a person, out to sea, floating. Onemale, approximately in late fifties to sixties. They’re sending out a boat now and request immediate assistance.’
    She turned to Flynn and Reggie. ‘You two, go in the chopper. You both have the relevant experience when it comes to shark attacks, having treated and operated on victims before. I want you at the scene, stat. The instant they have that body out of the water, you need to be standing by.’
    ‘Is there just the one victim?’ Reggie asked, her mind going through the different injury scenarios they might be facing.
    ‘That’s the report at this time. Go and change. Get to that chopper.’ With that, Bergan turned her gaze to the rest of the team. ‘Everyone else, listen for your posts.’
    ‘Change rooms are this way,’ Reggie said, before Flynn could ask. They walked quickly along the corridor, down the side of A and E towards the changing rooms. ‘Retrieval suits will be just inside the door. Once you’re changed, we’ll meet back in the corridor, grab the retrieval gear and head up to the chopper.’
    ‘I guess all that experience in the Caribbean has come in handy. I hope I can remember what we need to do,’ Flynn remarked as they hurried along. ‘I’ve been working very much inland for the past few years.’
    Reggie smiled at him reassuringly as they reached the changing room doors. ‘You’ll be fine and if you forget, just ask me.’
    ‘I’ll do that,’ he promised, as he punched in the code for the male changing rooms at the same time she tapped in the code for the female changing rooms. ‘See you in five minutes.’
    ‘Or less,’ she remarked, pushing open the door.
    Ten minutes later, they were both changed, seated in the chopper with their medical retrieval backpacks and ready for take-off.
    ‘Any word from the surf lifeguards?’ Reggie asked their pilot through the headset.
    ‘I’ll patch you through to Bergan,’ he replied.
    ‘What’s the latest?’ Reggie asked a moment later as they headed out towards the sea.
    ‘They’ve got the man in the boat. Left arm is partially detached, incision bites to left side of abdomen,’ came Bergan’s clear words. ‘There is also a report of a second victim. Young girl, twelve years of age. Lacerations to right side, unconscious, right foot missing.’
    Reggie closed her eyes as Bergan spoke, knowing full well that Flynn could hear every word through his own headset. She tried to picture the victims’ wounds, tried to keep her mind focused, imagining herself moving through the motions of treatment. At times like these they couldn’t afford to think about the personal, about those poor people who had suffered such horror. In order to remain professional, they needed to remain detached.
    ‘The boat should be on the beach in two minutes.’
    ‘What’s our ETA?’ Flynn asked the pilot, watching Reggie closely, whose eyes were tightly shut. He knew she was trying to think things through, to imagine the wounds and the treatment they’d require. He could also remember the first time she’d been like this. Their very first retrieval together.
    They’d been sitting in an ambulance, being driven from the hospital on Sint Maarten, towards a