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Luckily, the area plotted in today’s search was very familiar. Cahill’s Crossing was on the flight path for the scenic route; the twenty-minute whistlestop tour that most of the tourists chose. Ellie also knew it from the ground; she and Dad had often fished for barramundi at the crossing when she was growing up.

They were low enough to see several huge crocodiles basking on the sand in the late afternoon sun. She swallowed, hoping the missing tourists had been smart enough to stay away from the water.

A gust of wind buffeted the helicopter as she glanced across at her offsider. His gaze was fixed on the ground, but it was his utter stillness that caught Ellie’s attention.

Strong hands clutched the piece of paper she’d picked up at the office in the hangar. The edges were crumpled in his grip, and his knuckles were white.

She lifted her gaze to his deeply tanned face and saw perspiration beaded on his forehead, even though it was cooler up in the sky with the breeze from the rotors coming in the air vents on the doors. Not to mention the fact that his shirt was unbuttoned.

It was hard to ignore the glimpse of muscled arms and tight abs when she looked across to his side of the chopper. It was a long time since she’d been up close and personal with a body like that.

Maybe never, if she was strictly honest about it.

Suddenly he pointed. ‘Over there.’

Ellie jumped as the deep voice intruded on her thoughts. His dark eyes met hers for a second as he swivelled in his seat and leaned across her, indicating a large stand of sandstone rocks a couple of kilometres to the east of the crossing. His bare arm and chest pressed against her shoulder and she leaned back a little, keeping a firm grip on the cyclic. His eyesight must be acute; she had already scanned that side of the river and seen nothing out of the ordinary.

She peered across to where he was pointing. Sure enough, two figures were hunched together in the lengthening shadows beneath the rock.

‘Good pick-up.’ Credit given where credit due.

She swooped down as low as she could go so they knew they’d been spotted.

‘Shit, there’s only two down there. They must have split up.’ She flicked on the radio and waited for her boss to respond. ‘Jock, we’ve spotted a couple of them.’

‘Roger that.’ The Scottish burr was muffled by the noise of the fresh air rushing in despite her headset. ‘Location?’

‘We’re closer to Ubirr Rock than Cahill’s Crossing.’ She looked back to Kane. ‘Coordinates?’

As he read them to her, she relayed them to Jock.

‘Thanks, I’ll let them know at the park base. Well done.’

Kane’s dark eyes held her gaze for a moment, and then he looked down again as he shoved the paper into his pocket. ‘We’re going to have to go down. Look.’

Ellie tipped the bird and leaned to the side, using one hand to hold back some hair which had come adrift from her braid. On the ground, a tall man was waving his arms frantically and gesturing to the rocks.

‘Damn it, looks like there’s a problem.’ Ellie stared down at the scene playing out beneath them as Jock’s voice came through her headset, relaying their position to the national park rangers on the ground. ‘The others must be there out of sight.’

‘There’s a search crew three kilometres west of Ubirr Rock.’ Jock’s voice came through clear. ‘They were searching closer to where the vehicle was found. They’ll be able to get to them in half an hour or so. Thanks, Ellie, great work. Head back to base now.’

‘Negative, Jock. Looks like someone’s hurt. We’re going down to check it out.’

‘Watch out for those crosswinds. The wind’s picked up over the last couple of hours.’

‘Will do.’ She noticed Kane brace himself as she lowered the front of the bird and dropped them fifty feet in one swift dive. A gust buffeted the machine and she glanced at his white-knuckled fingers gripping the edge of his seat. She looked up and caught his eyes. He was watching her closely as she gripped the single T-bar cyclic between them. For a split-second, he lifted his hand from his seat as though he wanted to take control, but he dropped it again as she held the bird in a hover.

The wind buffeted them from side to side, but she held the bird steady. ‘Don’t worry. She’s a reliable machine. Most accidents are usually caused by pilot error.’ Ellie kept her eyes on him a moment, then dropped the front down and prepared to land on a large flat patch of sand between the tourists and the river.

‘R44s are hard to hold in a hover pattern.’ His voice held a tinge of new respect.

‘You don’t say?’ She lifted one hand briefly and patted his leg. Kane’s thigh muscles were taut beneath her hand. ‘No need to worry, babe. This here is child’s play. Wait till you see how hard it is up in the real gorges of the park.’

The bird dropped as a strong gust of wind tipped it end to end. ‘Hang on. I’m taking us down.’

*

By the time she put the chopper down on the river flat, the trepidation that had been roiling in Kane’s stomach was replaced with a grudging respect. Despite the difficult crosswind between rock pillars, Ellie had handled the bird as well – almost as well – as he would have.