Chapter 15 The Avalanche #2
The dispatcher adjusted her headset.
Tried another channel.
Then another.
Nothing.
“We lost contact.”
The words spread through the room instantly.
Mason straightened.
“With who?”
The answer came far too quickly.
“Team Seven.”
Riley’s stomach dropped.
Team Seven.
Ethan’s team.
The room immediately shifted into motion.
Radio operators attempted alternate frequencies.
Satellite communication systems activated.
Nearby command posts were contacted.
Everyone worked the problem.
Nobody panicked.
Not yet.
Communication failures happened during storms.
Equipment malfunctioned.
Signals disappeared.
Temporary silence wasn’t unusual.
Riley repeated that fact to herself several times.
Temporary.
Nothing more.
Still, something felt wrong.
The feeling settled deep inside her chest.
Cold.
Heavy.
Persistent.
Minutes passed.
Then more.
No response.
Additional radio attempts failed.
The room grew quieter with every unanswered call.
Mason remained beside the communications desk.
His expression revealed nothing.
Years of leadership had taught him control.
Riley knew him well enough to see beyond it.
Fear.
Real fear.
The same fear she felt.
Neither spoke it aloud.
Not yet.
Another avalanche specialist entered the command center carrying updated reports.
His face looked pale.
The sight immediately caught Mason’s attention.
“What is it?”
The specialist hesitated.
A terrible sign.
Then he spoke.
“We’ve received reports of secondary slope failure.”
Silence.
The entire room froze.
Every experienced rescuer understood exactly what that meant.
Another avalanche.
Possibly larger.
Possibly catastrophic.
The specialist pointed toward updated terrain maps.
The projected slide path appeared immediately.
Directly across Ethan’s operational area.
Riley felt the blood drain from her face.
“No.”
The word escaped before she could stop it.
Nobody responded.
Nobody contradicted her.
Because nobody knew.
Not yet.
The uncertainty somehow felt worse.
Hours seemed to pass.
In reality, less than forty minutes elapsed.
Search teams attempted to reach the area.
Weather conditions prevented aircraft deployment.
Ground units faced impossible terrain.
The storm refused to cooperate.
Nature remained indifferent.
Riley stood near the operations center windows staring into endless snowfall.
Every scenario played through her mind.
Every possibility.
Every outcome.
None felt acceptable.
A hand touched her shoulder gently.
Mason.
She turned.
His expression remained controlled.
Barely.
The strain showed now.
The effort required to maintain composure had become visible.
“They’ll find him.”
The statement sounded more like hope than certainty.
Riley nodded anyway.
Because she needed something to hold onto.
Anything.
The next hour became unbearable.
Rescue crews gradually reached portions of the avalanche zone.
Preliminary reports arrived.
Buried equipment.
Destroyed vehicles.
Massive debris fields.
The slide had been enormous.
Far larger than initial estimates.
Each update chipped away at hope.
Not completely.
Just enough.
Then the rescue coordinator arrived.
The moment Riley saw him walking toward them, she knew.
Instinct.
Experience.
Fear.
Something told her.
The coordinator stopped several feet away.
His expression carried the kind of sympathy nobody ever wanted to see.
Mason immediately stepped forward.
“What did they find?”
The coordinator took a breath.
Slowly.
Carefully.
The hesitation said everything.
“Parts of the landing zone were completely overrun.”
Riley’s heart hammered against her ribs.
The room seemed smaller suddenly.
Harder to breathe inside.
The coordinator continued.
“Several personnel have been accounted for.”
Several.
Not all.
The distinction mattered.
Terribly.
Mason’s voice sounded rough.
“Ethan?”
The silence that followed felt endless.
Then came the answer.
“We haven’t located him.”
The words hit like physical force.
Riley stared.
Unable to process them.
Unable to understand them.
Because missing wasn’t real.
Missing was temporary.
Missing meant they just hadn’t found him yet.
Didn’t it?
The coordinator continued speaking.
Explaining search procedures.
Recovery operations.
Weather limitations.
Words blended together.
Meaning disappeared.
Only one fact remained.
Ethan was gone.
Somewhere beneath a mountain of snow and debris.
Mason lowered himself into a nearby chair.
The movement looked mechanical.
Automatic.
Like his body had forgotten how to function properly.
Riley had never seen him look that lost.
Never.
The coordinator remained silent for several moments.
Then delivered the final blow.
The one nobody wanted to hear.
“The longer this goes…”
He stopped briefly.
Searching for gentler words.
None existed.
“The survival window is decreasing rapidly.”
Silence consumed the room.
Heavy.
Crushing.
Final.
Outside, the storm continued raging against the mountains.
Inside, Riley felt the ground disappear beneath her.
Days earlier, Ethan had promised he would come home.
She had believed him.
God help her, she had believed him.
Now she sat beside Mason while rescue officials quietly prepared for the possibility that the man they both loved might never come back.
And for the first time since this nightmare began, hope felt terrifyingly fragile.
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