Chapter 37
Thirty-Seven
When would this self-imposed mission be over?
Her heart still pounded with the aftershock of the avalanche and the near tumble to the cave floor, which would have killed her, no doubt.
Broken her back, her neck, or cracked her skull.
And if it didn’t kill her, she would have broken something, and then how would Ryder get her off this mountain? Yeah, it would have killed her.
Exhaustion pressed down on her, and pain weighed heavy on her heart.
It wouldn’t be over until the moment she held Jeremy in her arms. This nightmare wouldn’t end until he was somewhere safe.
This incident brought her attention to the fact that her son might never be safe in her proximity. But she couldn’t think about that now.
All her focus had to be on finding him. I don’t even know where to look.
But that wasn’t true. She’d start by finding anyone connected to a rogue CIA operation run by Reid Maddox.
Ryder hiked ahead, descending the mountain now, and it seemed a lifetime ago that they’d started out on this venture to climb the mountain.
They began at that trailhead—what was the name?
Lost Signal Trailhead. That was the one.
And that meant something to her now. The name struck her in a way it hadn’t before.
It wasn’t just a marker on a map, but she and Ryder had lived it.
They’d been cut off and tested. Stripped down to who they really were when everything else fell away.
And until they found Jeremy, as far as Sarah was concerned, she was still in this grueling test of her soul, her life.
She followed Ryder along the snow-packed rim—the tree line down below them getting closer.
Somehow she’d come to associate those trees with safety, but obviously that wasn’t true, and hadn’t been true for them in Ryder’s grandfather’s cabin, even.
Still, getting closer to the forest meant they were getting off this mountain and were closer to civilization than when they’d been near the summit.
Closer to her son.
But the tree line she viewed disappeared as they climbed one final slope. Snow crunched under her boots and every muscle ached as she followed the guide she’d secured—and he’d become so much more than that, though she hadn’t figured out exactly what.
Maybe Sarah was alive right now because Ryder had refused to give up. She had a feeling he would have tumbled down the rock face along with her before he let go. And that settled deep in her heart.
At the top of the slope, Ryder paused and Sarah stopped to catch her breath.
She glanced back at the cave they’d escaped—just part of the snowy landscape along an avalanche-scarred slope that had once again buried secrets along with more bodies.
Some of those men might have escaped the avalanche like she and Ryder had been able to.
They had better keep an eye out for them. Still . . .
“We made it,” she whispered, mostly to herself.
Ryder, ever the realist, started forward. “Not yet, we haven’t.”
Right. This was no time to celebrate. But she couldn’t help but breathe deeply, couldn’t help but hope as they picked up the pace, closing in on the evergreens, making progress in their escape.
The wind howled across the rise behind them and down through the trees, cutting through her parka as if to remind her that danger was closing in.
Still? Or again?
Ryder led her into the densely packed evergreens of the surrounding forest, and she breathed in the scent of the thick woods. She watched where she stepped, over roots, small boulders, and fallen branches.
Then she bumped right into Ryder.
“Oh . . .”
His body was unmovable, and that alone sent panic through her. She took one step back, following his gaze.
Then she froze. A man stepped out from the trees. Hands raised. Calm. Wearing government-issue boots, a dark parka.
But she recognized him and released a breath. “Malcolm.”
Her old mentor. He’d warned her not to come and was a familiar face that she’d trusted with her life.
Before.
Ryder didn’t change his stance. “How’d you find us?”
Malcolm closed the distance—slowly, cautiously, hands still raised—and offered a half smile. A pained silence. Her gut clenched. She’d expected him to come, hadn’t she? To come to her rescue . . . but now she couldn’t be sure on which side he stood.
“I’ve been tracking you since you left the tent. You didn’t think I’d let you wander off with the most dangerous cargo this country’s seen in decades, did you?”
Ryder gripped the pack strap on his shoulder. The one holding the decoy canister. But he didn’t relinquish it. What was Ryder thinking? Planning? Oh, if only she could read his mind.
“I thought you’d gone back to Langley after you warned me,” she said.
“You bring up a good point. I did warn you, and you didn’t listen—which I expected. I’m glad to see you survived. I was on my way back but then had to turn around. I came the moment I realized you’d slipped containment.”
With those words, he’d revealed his hand. He was the one to send Reid Maddox after her. Oh . . . Malcolm. This wasn’t the man she knew.
Where’s Jeremy? But . . . she had to play this right. Ask too soon, and she could destroy her chances of ever seeing her son again.
Malcolm’s voice was smooth, casual. Too casual.
“I’m not the bad guy here, Sarah. I wanted this secret to remain buried, but here we are, and I’m just trying to fix things.
Let’s get you warmed up. There’s a secure place.
An abandoned ranger station a quarter of a mile away.
We can talk, and you can hand over the items in question.
I’ll take care of it. Make sure danger doesn’t follow you.
Think of it as my one last hurrah before I retire. ”
“I know just the one, and I’d rather head straight to Mercy Ridge,” Ryder said, his voice edged with a warning. “We’ve got people waiting. A sheriff who knows we’re alive.”
And Ryder’s brother, who never showed up? Ryder hadn’t mentioned him again. What had happened? Maybe they’d been too busy surviving to think beyond the next three minutes.
Malcolm’s eyes flicked to him, then back to Sarah. “You trust the local authorities with this?” He nodded toward the pack Ryder still clung to.
Ryder stepped back so he stood next to Sarah.
Sarah’s skin prickled. Malcolm was saying all the right things, but she didn’t know this man standing before them. He was different. He’d fooled her all along.
“Doesn’t matter who I trust, we’ll pass on the warm cabin,” Ryder said, shifting his stance.
Malcolm’s smile tightened. “It wasn’t a request.”
Behind them, two armed men wearing tactical gear stepped into view.
“You’re done playing wilderness hero. This is above your pay grade,” Malcolm said. “Hand it over.”
Sarah’s heart slammed against her ribs. “What are you doing, Malcolm? You said some things should remain buried. Why are you even here? Did you betray me? Are you the reason my brother is dead?”
Malcolm might have answered, but Ryder had unzipped the pack and held out the canister. Then he tossed it to Malcolm, whose eyes never left it.
“Go ahead and open it,” Ryder said.
“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” she said. “We wore hazmat suits when we retrieved it. You’re not wearing any protection.”
Malcolm stared at her, then nodded to one of the men. “Open it.”
She hadn’t fooled her mentor. But she could try again. “No, don’t! Are you nuts?”
The soldier picked it up, turned it over, then, without hesitation, opened the seal. “Empty,” the man said.
Malcolm’s calm shattered. “I figured you’d try something like this.”
“Call it survival,” Ryder growled.
Malcolm’s jaw tightened. The two other men closed in.
“Where are the vials?” Malcolm asked.
Sarah stood tall, despite her shaking legs. The vials remained buried, but he didn’t need to know that. “What, you think I would let you have the vials without getting my son back first? You kill me like you killed my brother, and you’ll never find them. Now, where’s my son?”
He blinked. Just once. His hesitation confirmed what she hadn’t actually known. But she knew now. Yes, he and Reid had been behind Aaron’s death. How could you?
“You didn’t realize that I knew, did you?” Her voice grew steadier as she confronted her mentor and former boss. “You killed Aaron because he got close. He knew where to find the truth and how to uncover it. But he wouldn’t give you what you wanted. So you sent someone close to him.”
Her mind struggled, grappled to focus in on that one piece she’d been missing all along. Sarah didn’t know why she hadn’t seen that truth long ago, and she couldn’t even process what was now plain as day to her.
Malcolm’s lips parted. “What are you saying?”
But Sarah was already staring past him at the approaching snowmobile. When it stopped, a figure slid off.
The figure smiled—cool, polished, calculating—and removed her helmet.
“Tessa? Are you okay? Where’s Jeremy?” But Sarah’s questions came out as a denial to what her mind had already been processing.
Please . . . prove me wrong! But the sudden realization slammed into her.
Aaron never would have gone to the lake .
. . unless pressed by someone he trusted and loved.
He never would have simply left a flash drive behind.
“Aaron left me no choice,” Tessa said.
Tessa had been working for Malcolm all along. Nausea erupted.
“You? You killed my brother?”
Sarah’s heart cracked, the mountain air too thin to breathe. “Where’s . . . my son?”
And this time, no one moved to catch her when she staggered.