CHAPTER 10
January
Five A.M. looked rotten no matter which side of the clock you came at it from. Tim rolled from his bed and shuffled his clothes on, the emergency call-out having shattered yet another incredible dream.
He was more pissed off about that than the fact it was five in the bloody morning.
One solid month he’d worked with Lifeline now. He’d trained with the team and worked with them, relaxed and played. The job was going great, and he was far more invested in the lot of the team than he’d actually expected.
Erin?
Was driving him absolutely batshit crazy.
They fooled around at least a couple times a week. He’d been doing everything he could to give her space. To allow time for her to figure out that what they had right now, while hot and satisfying on one level, wasn’t the end goal.
One moment he would consider ceasing being patient. Just make his demands, and let her discover for herself what he already knew. Then the years they’d been apart would register, and his lingering uncertainty about why she’d left in such a panic would return, and he’d be tossed right back to square one.
Following her agenda, which was unforgettable red-hot sex. Like he should complain.
But . . .
He shook off his frustration and concentrated on the job waiting for him. Early morning or not, a call-out in January was probably going to involve freezing his ass off at some point in the next couple of hours.
Tim pulled into the parking lot at HQ surprised to see that the chopper wasn’t being prepped. Instead, a small plane waited on the airstrip.
Something different. Something big was going down.
Marcus met the team in the prep room. “Coastal call-out. There’s a tourist excursion gone down in the Pacific Rim Mountains, and the weather is making it impossible to approach the crash site. We’ll use the plane to get you out there, then as soon as there’s a break in the weather you’ll move in. Erin, you’ll have a bird waiting at the base out of Comox. Pack ropes and climbing gear, and extra winter equipment in case.”
“Coastal should mean less snow, right?” Devon asked as he grabbed bags off the shelves and unzipped them in prep for loading.
“Probably,” Marcus slipped back to the radio station. “But you’ll cross over glacier territory, so pack for anything. I’ll work on getting more details.”
The flurry of motion around them moved in waves. Gear being loaded, clothing shoved into packs. Tim pulled aside his prepacked case of supplies from the medical stash, double-checking he had extra of everything. He took the bag along with one from the gear lined up by the hangar door and carried it to the transport.
Erin was already on the plane, chatting with the pilot. She waved briefly, then ignored him. He did the same until the entire team was settled in the transport seats. The engine revved higher as they buckled in.
Dawn hadn’t gotten farther than backlighting the eastern mountains before they were off. Mount Rundle grew smaller as the pilot raced the plane forward into darkness and away from the rising sun, following the TransCanada highway through the Rocky Mountains toward the coast.
A soft touch on his arm pulled him from staring out the window.
Once she’d gotten his attention, Erin leaned back in her seat, her voice over the speakers to his ears. “I need to sleep for a while. Wake me when Marcus has more information.”
Tim nodded. Erin turned off her headset and closed her eyes, her breathing slowing as she settled farther into the seat. He snuck her fingers into his, then looked out the window to avoid meeting the gaze of anyone on the team.
He wasn’t going to let them stop him from doing this much at least. She was going to know that he was there for her.
Only by the time the headphones rumbled, the noise pulled him from the light slumber he’d fallen into as well. It took a moment to become alert, especially as Erin lifted her head from his shoulder. Her warmth had blanketed him during the time they’d rested. The lingering heat was nice, and made him want to keep her close at all times.
Only now they needed to concentrate.
Anders waved from across the seating area. “Time to wake up, everyone. We’ve got fifteen more minutes to the airport. Erin, they have a chopper warming up for you. You can finish getting her ready while we transfer supplies.”
“This is the one that I used last summer?”
“Yes. Fueled, cleared, and ready to roll.”
She gave him a thumbs-up.
“What’s Marcus got for us?” Tripp asked.
“They’ve spotted the crash site, but it’s taking a long time to get the local SAR into position going overland. Winds were too high earlier to access the range, and while the conditions have improved a little, they’re worried about exposure if the rescue is put off much longer.”
“Tricky flying situation?” Erin grinned harder when Anders responded in the affirmative. “Lovely.”
Alisha joined them over the microphone system. “Your idea of a good time needs work, my friend.”
“Right,” Erin drawled. “As if you’re not itching to be tossed from the transport hold into a spinning descent at the end of a rope. You’re as much a freak as I am.”
The women grinned at each other before focusing back on Anders.
Tim took mental notes as they planned their next steps. The plane set down and taxied rapidly toward where the helicopter waited.
Confidence. Camaraderie. Even, yes, a sense of excitement at the rush of the unknown. Tim had always enjoyed his job, and taking chances, but something was different now.
It wasn’t him going it alone this time. It was there in the team, and Tim was growing to crave the sensation of being a part of the whole. Wanted to be in a position to gain the admiration of them all.
That in itself was strange. He wasn’t usually the one to go looking for pats on the back.
* * *
The first part of the approach was straightforward as far as she was concerned. Once they had crossed the Strait of Georgia and started down Bute Inlet, the sharp edges of glacial-topped peaks faced them like a row of massive sentinels, guarding the wilderness interior. Dark green pines broke to dusted white on the front row, the warmer air off the ocean keeping the snow from settling over the entire face. But beyond that, as elevations soared, winter held the landscape in a tight-fisted clutch, beautiful and deadly.
Flying into them was like facing an ancient power—one to be respected and feared at the same time. Friend or foe? From the safety of her chopper, she was a more powerful supplicant than the people they were headed to rescue, yet it could all turn on a breath.
While Alisha and the others strapped themselves into harnesses, Erin brought the chopper closer to the mountain face. Below them the torn carcass of the missing plane desecrated two sections of the steep, rocky crags, the transport torn in two uneven pieces. Broken debris scattered between the main sections clung precariously to the precipice. One person waved, arms moving rapidly as they stood over the still form of another.
Erin eyed the rescue location where she’d have to hover. Of course, they were right at the narrowest section, with two long valleys leading off in different directions. The ultimate worst situation in terms of crosswinds and back eddies off the steep ridges.
It was one of those situations she both loved and hated. The challenge of keeping the chopper in the right spot, of guiding the massive machine over the varying terrain and dealing with shifting wind patterns was something Erin never got enough of.
The fact that they were there because people were suffering wasn’t as thrilling. She was glad her skills helped save lives, but the reality of why the team was needed was horrid.
On the more intimate side of the equation, knowing there was someone at the end of the winch line whom she cared about changed the situation all over again. It lent an extra edge of fear and adrenaline that made it more exciting in some twisted way.
Erin listened carefully as Anders called out instructions, guiding Alisha down. The instrument panel gave feedback as well, but Erin’s attention remained on her forward focal point. Nothing to distract her. Nothing but the rescue and the victims below her who were waiting to be brought to safety and taken for needed medical attention.
Which reminded her that Tim was there as well, and for one second the whole idea of sleeping with a team member became a terrible, horrible idea.
She had grown used to being responsible for Alisha’s life. For the lives of Devon and the rest of the team—used to, yet not complacent. The sense of awe in the trust they showed never left her. It might make no sense, but with Tim, it was different. There was a sense of something—other—lingering every time they worked together.
If something happened to Tim, she wasn’t sure what she would do. How she would respond.
Then there was no time to worry because Alisha was on the ground, and Erin had to make rapid adjustments to keep them level. Pressing forward with the controls, listening to the response of the chopper with not only her ears, but her body.
“Tim, drop second,” Alisha ordered as she hurried through triage. “Then Devon can bring a stretcher. We have at least one who will need a ride.”
“On my way,” Tim responded.
He’d barely cleared the doors when it happened. A hard gust of wind hit from the north. The change in air pressure shuddered across the chopper, and they dropped a few feet. Erin fought to level them, countering the strong crosswind.
A muffled masculine curse carried over the line.
“Tim, you okay?” Anders demanded.
The pause before Tim answered was painful to wait through. “Fine. Lower me.”
Erin clenched her teeth and focused straight ahead. Eyed the rocky walls ahead of her as they narrowed. Adjusted an inch at a time toward the north wall to bring Tim closer to where Alisha waited to guide him to safety.
The chopper danced with her. The subtle changes in altitude registered not only on the gauges, but under Erin’s hands. A rhythm developed as she finessed the massive machine past the narrow rock walls. Easing back, sliding forward. Watching for danger signs and following the steady stream of verbal direction Anders breathed at her as Tim approached the ground.
“I got him,” Alisha shouted. “Clear.”
Erin let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“Take us up for a moment, Erin,” Anders ordered. “I’ll get Devon in position.”
The short time of respite was long enough to let her pounding heart settle a little. Then she had to do it all over as Devon was lowered, the spinal board with him. Once again there was that sense of anticipation mixed with dread. Erin had to acknowledge what she’d always known yet had become so much more apparent this time around.
What they did mattered, but what they did was dangerous, and there was no way around that fact. It was their life on the line as well. That her job put her in charge over them was unlike anything she’d experienced elsewhere.
She watched the team hustle below her and soaked in the wonder and the thread of satisfaction that rose at the thought. She was powerful. In control. A lifesaver, and in charge of her own destiny.
That wasn’t going to change.
* * *
Tim caught Alisha’s wrist and allowed her to drag him to a safe perch on the rock wall. His hips and thighs hurt like a bugger where his harness had jerked around him—no amount of padding could cushion that kind of blow completely—but he was already on to the next thing.
Alisha snapped out a rapid report. “Peter is the ambulatory victim. He stabilized his friend, but Tony needs your attention stat. I’ll help Devon, then climb up to find the pilot. Devon and Tripp can load these two for liftout.”
“Stay safe,” Tim acknowledged as he detached his cable harness from the winch. He left Alisha and hurried up the mountain to where the first two victims were located, climbing over the jagged terrain with his medic kit in hand. Temperatures had to be hovering around freezing, with the wind slamming the cold against him like icy daggers.
The sound of the chopper echoed off the nearby peaks as Erin moved into position, and this time Devon was lowered. Then Tim turned away from the others to focus on his patient.
Pain skittered across the victim’s face as Tim checked his limbs. Possible broken femur, severe lacerations to his right thigh.
“I had pressure on it to stop the bleeding,” offered Peter, the one who’d been waving earlier. Tim eyed him quickly, but other than dirt and scratches he seemed in okay shape. It was his friend in trouble.
“You did great. I’ll just wrap him up a little extra for the trip out,” Tim assured him, working rapidly. He looked into Tony’s eyes. “Stay nice and still, and we’ll get you out of here in no time.”
“What about the others?” Peter asked. “I couldn’t leave Tony, but I haven’t seen any sign of the rest of the passengers. When the bouncing stopped, we were the only ones on this section of the mountain.”
Others? “How many were with you?”
Peter looked confused. “The plane was full. Another half dozen? Maybe a couple more?”
Fuck. Tim engaged his radio. “Anders, Alisha. We’ve got trouble. There were more passengers on board than the three on the manifest.”
“Great. Hang tight. I’ll contact the airfield to see if they can dig up more info.”
“Anders and I are heading to the upper site,” Alisha announced. “Join us when you can.”
Overhead the steady sound of the rotors echoed off the walls to produce a syncopated rhythm. Devon joined him, and for a couple minutes they were occupied loading the injured man onto the stretcher.
The man on the carry board had gone silent once the painkillers kicked in. Tim completed putting down a dressing while Devon tightened security straps.
Anders lowered the connecting cable and the stretcher rose skyward.
“I’m heading after the others.” Tim pointed uphill. “Alisha’s setting fixed ropes.”
Devon gave him a thumbs-up, then returned to completing his task.
Tim hurried over the uneven rock toward the back of the half-moon-shaped amphitheater. He paused, examining the area closer now that there were bodies to put the view into perspective.
Above them, Alisha and Tripp were closing in on the nose of the aircraft. The bright red section was wedged into a section of rock, the broken body in twisted shreds as if some giant dragon had used its claws on a new toy. Below him were the tail and part of the body. Cabin walls and padded seats lay in mangled bits, destroyed by their tumble down the ragged mountain face.
There wasn’t enough rummage to make a plane. Not if he put all the pieces together in a morbid balsam wood model construction.
He moved to the north, gaze darting over the scene. Looking for the missing clue. A narrow, dark line drew him away from following the team, headed instead farther to the side. He cautiously approached the fissure and peered over it. The rough scree rock had been recently disturbed, a darker trail visible that led down to one side and out of view. Signs screamed loud and clear that something had slid that direction.
Tim eyed the incline warily. “Erin, take a swing higher and come at this wall from the other side. I have a suspicion someone went down a side route, and I’m hoping it ends somewhere in the open. Look for wreckage, red paint.”
The chopper lifted before he’d even finished speaking.
“You find something?” Devon asked.
“We have missing people, and missing plane. It’s got to have slid off in a different direction.”
“Tim, we’re at the cockpit. Pilot is dead.” Alisha’s somber announcement made them all pause.
“Damn.”
“No other passengers in this vicinity. Tripp and I are coming back down.”
Devon had joined Tim, and he spoke off radio. “Wait for Alisha and Tripp to return.”
Tim nodded. “Let’s see what Erin finds. No use crawling into dark places without a reason.”
A solid hand clasped his shoulder in agreement as they turned to wait while Alisha and Tripp made the descent and rejoined them on relatively stable ground.
“Getting off this piece of rock is going to be a pain in the ass,” Devon muttered, pulling his coat closer around his face.
Tim eyed the cliffs. “We could hang glide.”
A burst of laughter escaped his partner. “We can go off Mount Rundle in the spring. Other than that, I’m not into free fall.”
“So BASE jumping is out? Damn, you’re a lousy date.”
Devon winked in response. Normal, everyday chatter between the moments of dealing with life and death—it was what they used to combat the stress. Tim glanced up as the chopper volume increased.
Anders came online. “Oh joy, oh bliss, what we’ve got is a sightseeing tour. Pilot registered two for the flight, but had room for more. So either he was pocketing the extra fares, or he booked them on for some special low rate fare as a favour.”
“Some favour,” Tim muttered, looking around the crash site.
“There’s no crash evidence on the far side, Tim.”
Erin’s smooth tones stroked him, a subtle brush against nerve endings that were set on high when it came to anything about her. Even in the middle of the tense situation he was always aware of her, and not only because the sound of the chopper followed them everywhere.
“They have to be somewhere,” Alisha complained.
“Unfortunately, I think I know where.” Tim gestured to the ravine.
A whirl of activity followed as ropes and anchors were set, and Alisha made the first descent over the edge.
Devon waited impatiently, Tim holding his safety rope. “Tell us what’s happening, Alisha,” Devon ordered.
“Come on down. You’re not going to believe this. It’s like the entire belly of the plane surfed down here and—oh shit. Devon, haul ass, I need you. Set lines and descend. All hands.”
The radio cut out and if they’d moved quickly before, they were now in high gear, blurs of motion.
“I’ll belay you, Devon. Fast trip, call out when you need to slow down,” Tim offered.
Alisha was talking steadily again, information regarding the other passengers coming in over the radio as Tripp locked down ropes and tossed lines. Tim focused on the weight in his hands as Devon vanished out of sight below him, the rope skipping out at what would be an alarming rate for most people.
All he got from Devon was a calm, “Ready to slow. Slow down and stop in three, two, one . . .”
Tim braced himself and gripped the rope tighter to bring his teammate to a standstill.
“Nicely done. I’m down. Tie off and descend.”
Tim was in midair, dropping toward the others, before he got to see what had caught their attention. The crazed dragon that he’d imagined had clawed apart the plane had taken the middle section and spit it out here. The nearly perfect oval had slid, or rolled, but had jammed to a stop half on a rock lip, half off.
The reason for Alisha’s call for speed was clear. There were moving shapes in the wreckage, but the entire mass was close to tipping the final distance. There would be no way anyone would survive that kind of a fall to the watery rocks below.
Alisha had already reached the edge of the plane. “Everyone stay put. We’re going to place some anchors, and then we can get you out.
A mass of raised voices greeted her announcement, but she swore, raising her hands in a full stop position. “Guys, anyone speak Japanese?”
“Shit, really?” Devon was up against the rocks, slamming climbers’ cams into the cracks as rapidly as his fingers would move. “Head count. We need them out of there.”
He gestured at the two passengers who had crawled from their seats earlier and sat huddled together to the side of the wreckage, attempting sign language to make them stay put.
“I see seven, and five are still in the cabin.” Alisha dug in the gear bag and began looping chest harnesses to her body ropes. “Do you have a good anchor for me yet, Devon? I’m going in.”
“The plane’s not secure,” Devon shouted.
“She’s the lightest,” Tripp cut in, not a slap down at Devon, but a reminder of the goal. “Alisha, single rope on each, but we’re not going to take anyone out until you’ve got them chained together. I don’t want to tip the balance more than adding your weight.”
Tim caught Devon’s eye. Confidence was there, but fear as well, as Devon had to watch his fiancée move into terrifying danger. He caught the rope Devon tossed him and waited for the moment he could guide it carefully to Alisha.
She moved with a steady grace, even half buried under her equipment. A hushed silence fell over the area. Excited voices stilled as the plane rocked, a horrifying metallic moan rising from where the metal rubbed the granite mountainside.
One person. The next. Alisha used a strange sort of hands-on comforting and gentle manipulation, but she was getting ropes around each passenger. After she’d done the first, chatter sprang up again as the passengers realized what she was doing. They worked eagerly to help her, arms rising slowly, fingers wrapping around ropes.
The plane settled a foot, and the low murmuring turned to screams. Tim bolted forward as well, unable to stop the knee-jerk reaction.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. Just stop moving.” For a tiny thing, Alisha could sure shout when she had to.
Tripp passed Tim a rope end. “Tie on. I want you ready to move if needed.” He spoke softly enough not to be overheard.
There wasn’t enough oxygen in the air. Not until Alisha turned from securing the final person and gave the signal.
“I’m going forward,” Tim announced. “I can help get them out of the wreckage.”
Tripp nodded, then belayed him down the edge. Tim took the time to set his own anchor in the rocks at his feet. A short rope, just enough room on it to manoeuvre.
A dangerous version of a child’s playground game began. Standing on the teeter-totter, attempting to balance it, but with the additional stress of working with shifting weights, Alisha directed the passenger farthest from safety to move toward Tim.
Everyone’s eyes were wide as he shuffled slowly toward a safer perch. As the first civilian passed him, Tim looped an additional carabiner around the harness Alisha had fastened, and Tripp took control, lifting the man rapidly to a secure ledge. Rinse, repeat. None of them had time for a break, one muscle-aching moment following another.
On the opposite side from where they were removing passengers, Devon held Alisha’s rope ready. She turned to the final tourist, and their luck vanished. The plane began a slow, grinding tilt that was too determined to end in anything but a complete disconnect from its perch. Chunks of rock supporting the plane broke away with horrifyingly loud cracks that echoed off the wall behind them.
Tim regrasped the cable he had waiting and made a decision. He snapped the carabiner into his palm, kicked his anchor rope free, and gave Tripp as much heads-up as he could.
“Free fall,” he shouted.
Tim jumped, aiming for the open space in front of the two bodies left in the plane. A loud shout rang in his ears as Tripp responded, almost too quickly. Tim slammed the carabiner through the chest loop around the last passenger, then twisted and held on tight to Alisha. She grabbed him with one arm and caught her rope with the other, and the mountainside gave way, taking the empty remains of the plane with it.
Tripp pulled the final passenger over the cliff lip. Alisha and Tim ended suspended in midair, Devon securing them in place. Their ropes slowly twisted together.
A deafening roar rose from the base of the mountain as the plane settled into its final resting place.