Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
They should be dead.
All of them. Nothing but pieces of twisted metal on the ground. Their bodies reduced to ash and charred bones. Black streaks of death against the blinding white snow. No chance at pulling some crazy rescue out of her ass, just their remains scattered across the ice.
Olivia wasn’t sure what had happened. If whoever had been targeting her had missed, or if something had gone wrong with the missile. Only that, what was likely an RPG had just exploded behind her.
She’d been overly cautious all day, constantly watching the FLIR screen in the hopes of catching any anomalous heat signatures early.
Give herself a chance to avoid a deadly situation before it had unraveled.
And she’d been more than vigilant, fully aware that a ground-to-air ordinance was the greatest threat.
There had been flickers on and off, but nothing that suggested anything other than an elk. Maybe a cougar or black bear.
Until now.
She’d just reached the leading edge of the ridge when a flash of red has registered on the screen—the kind of blob that screamed danger.
Registered in the operative part of her brain that knew it was human.
It had taken her a second to get her hands to react.
Shove the cyclic down and over as she dropped the collective.
Had the helicopter barreling toward the ground.
There had been grunts and curses, but none of the men had questioned her.
Miller had joined her on this last run—something about the group she’d picked up.
The backup Bishop had requested. She hadn’t asked, and Gib hadn’t elaborated.
But he was sitting next to her, one hand grasped around the frame, the other clenching the seat.
He didn’t seem scared, wasn’t white knuckled, just holding on. Gaze focused out the window.
Then, he was back with her, calling out distances and air speeds. Counting it down until she would have plowed into the ground. She didn’t answer, just took it all in before pulling up—damn near dragging the skid gear along the snow. Cocooning the machine in a blanket of white.
The horizon vanished. Just winked out as any loose snow got swept up—spun around the helicopter like a cloud of confetti.
She punched out of the swirl of powder a second later, the fuselage parallel to the ground.
Everything stable. She kept the nose forward, the machine a few feet off the surface.
No time to react if there was a mechanical emergency, but getting hit by another missile guaranteed they’d all die, so.
.. She simply chose the action that might keep them all breathing.
The pilot in her had enough sense to try the radio, cursing the blast of static. The total lack of communication from the base. Surely, they’d witnessed the explosion. Were watching her streak across the plateau. Yet, nothing. Not so much as a click of a mike through her headset.
In the background, her mind registered Gibson doing the same. Trying to raise someone on the satellite phone, then one of his burner mobiles.
He mumbled, then keyed up the intercom. “Comms and radios must be down at the source. Do us a favor, Livy, and do a flyby. Just to be safe.”
She’d be landing up at that shack Ethan had been occupying all day if she had her way. Somewhere far removed from another attack. At least until they reached Bishop. Knew it was safe to land at the lodge.
Olivia banked left, still screaming just above the ground, when movement caught her attention. She glanced up, blinking at the flash of light on the rocks. The sun reflecting off something metallic.
That had her inhaling. Angling in the other direction—avoiding what could be a sniper shot coming her way—when a figure rose above the snow, quickly sprinting out of sight.
Ethan.
Like on the snowmobile the previous night, she recognized his silhouette. The glimpse of his shoulders. The way her heart kicked over hard in her chest.
She didn’t know why he was on that ledge, unless…
The RPG! That’s why it had missed. Why they weren’t in a thousand pieces on the ground.
Ethan had neutralized whoever had fired it.
Maybe not with a kill shot, but he’d at least clipped the bastard.
Knocked off the guy’s aim enough they’d lived.
Had that missile going wide. And all at some insane distance, in gusting winds with his tango standing in a thicket of trees.
But, then why had he just disappeared as if something was chasing him?
It wasn’t like him to abandon his overwatch before his team had reached safety.
Specifically, until she’d landed. Even if he thought the threat was over.
He’d been obsessive that way. She’d heard some of the other men comment on it in the field.
That Ethan was the guy you wanted guarding your retreat. That he’d never wane on his duties.
It didn’t make sense until she looked farther up the mountain.
Saw the wall of snow. The sound of the explosion must have set it off.
Caused the large accumulation collected along the upper face to break away, tumbling the snow down the side with crushing force.
If Ethan had still been in the cabin, he’d be dead.
Buried, because the avalanche just consumed the tiny wooden building. There one second, gone the next.
Damn, it was moving fast. Eating up the distance to that ledge with alarming speed. Two seconds, and it was already halfway there. Was bearing down on wherever Ethan had gone.
Why wasn’t he moving? Surely, he’d driven the snowmobile to that position.
Saw the avalanche advancing. Why wasn’t he racing down that open area to his left?
Cutting across the slope—trying to outmaneuver it off to one side.
It wouldn’t be easy. He’d likely run out of viable real estate before getting clear of that leading edge, but he should be trying. Anything to stay alive.
She was heading his way. Determined to do whatever was necessary to get him clear, when he appeared on that ledge, his sled pointed directly at her. She barely had enough time to inhale—process his next move—before he was flying off the edge. Plummeting down the side of the cliff toward the bottom.
Dead.
That’s what he’d be in exactly three more seconds. Nothing but a splat of white camouflage clothing at the bottom. Maybe a splatter of red where his blood simply shot out through the fabric. And she was going to see every moment of it. Have it forever burned inside her head.
Gibson muttered something that sounded like, “Bloody, hell,” calling out orders in the comm. Instructing the other men how they were going in. Would drag Phoenix’s sorry arse out of there. How failure wasn’t an option.
There were a series of, “fuck, yeahs,” then silence. Everyone staring out the windows, watching that snowmobile impact the ground. Disappear beneath an explosion of snow as if a bomb had detonated several feet below the surface.
Having the machine reappear moments later, still barreling down the slope had her gasping. Instinctually heading toward him, because, against all odds, he was still on the sled. Standing up as he must have maxed out the throttle. Had that snowmobile bounding along the surface.
Did it feel as insane as it looked? Was he halfway as scared as she was?
Because she was sweating. Sweating and panting and damn it, shaking ever so slightly.
How he wasn’t thrown off was a mystery. One worthy of being the eighth wonder of the world because the sled was skipping along the snow.
Dipping in deep, then flinging forward. Like she’d witnessed last night only a hundred times worse.
Like she’d envisioned riding a bronco would be.
And all at an angle that should have flipped the machine over on itself.
Ethan didn’t seem to notice. Kept that snowmobile heading straight down the mountain.
What was the steepest route possible instead of weaving back and forth.
What might have saved him from being catapulted over the steering column.
Maybe crushed by the machine when it ran him over.
While she was certain it had a kill switch, there’s no way it would stop in time. Momentum carrying it forward.
Seeing a blast of snow crash over the ledge, then follow him down explained his reasoning. That avalanche wasn’t stopping. In fact, it looked as if it was picking up speed. As if the fall had released a bunch of latent energy, all of which was being converted into velocity.
Was gravity stronger on that ridge? Maybe some kind of scientific anomaly? A black hole within the snow that was accelerating the churning snow toward him?
Ethan wasn’t glancing back. Was completely focused on driving that sled down the slope. Seemingly oblivious to how precarious it was. That he could be flung off at any second.
That, or he was going to get overrun. Swallowed up by that wall of white quickly gaining ground behind him.
Olivia flew past him, then banked over, trailing behind. Willing his snowmobile faster, despite knowing it would probably kill him. Buck him off, and he’d die from a broken neck before the avalanche could suffocate him.
Gibson was talking to the men. Organizing.
Something about getting a rope ready. About doing a snatch and grab.
Hell, she didn’t even know if they had a rope.
Had anything remotely useful in the chopper.
She was too focused on flying. On getting closer.
Watching how the snow moved. What might happen if Ethan couldn’t outrun it.
Ready to input a waypoint on the screen if he went under.
A reference point to begin searching. Though, the force of the snow could easily carry him hundreds of meters down the mountain. Could bury him forever.