An arduous thirty minutes later,
Hatch and Hill brought Cruise and team to the landing zone, a plateau east of the glacier. Members of the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team rushed toward them. Hatch was surprised to see one of the operators was a female.
The woman introduced herself as Agent Babiarz and her partner as Medina. They then assisted with the sled.
"Where's the medical chopper?" Hatch asked.
"Tied up. It's a real shit show everywhere right now." Babiarz locked eyes with Hatch as she took the rope from her. Medina swapped out Hill's end. Fresh legs picked up the final sprint to the finish. "But one of our guys is a fully trained paramedic. They’ll be in good hands. Can’t guarantee anything, but our guy will do his best."
Hatch jogged alongside. She looked down at the three men being carted in Hill’s sled. Their bodies shook as they rumbled across the flatland toward the awaiting helicopters.
"What are we looking at?” An HRT operator by the name of Wren greeted Hatch and Babiarz under the rotating blades of the first chopper.
"One dead. Two critical." Hatch shouted over the whomp-whomp
of the rotors, never looking up from Cruise. She squeezed his hand and willed him to hold on.
"Put the two critical on chopper one with me." Wren set out three backboards on the wet ground beside the sled.
Hill undid the bindings. He moved Taylor's corpse out of the way, transferring him to the furthest gurney while the others worked on moving the other two. Wren and Medina strained while moving Hertzog.
Hatch gripped Cruise at his boots while Babiarz took his shoulders. They hoisted him up and over to the stretcher board in one smooth motion. Wren finished strapping in Hertzog and made his way over.
Hatch looked down at Cruise's combat boot and tried not to allow her mind to wander to all the battlefield crosses she'd seen over the years. She focused on the six uniquely designed whisper-quiet retractable crampon claws inlaid within the bottom of its sole. Cruise was her height. And looked to be about her boot size, give or take half an inch.
Wren made the final adjustments to the straps and then went back to Hertzog. Wren and Medina hustled as fast as they could to manage Hertzog's dead weight. Hatch removed Cruise's bloodstained boots and set them beside her.
"What are you doing with those?" Babiarz asked.
Hatch sat on the wet ground beside Cruise and took her boots off. She stood back up after completing the footwear swap. "I'm going back."
"The hell you are!" Hatch turned to see an imposing man with steel eyes and the weathered look of a seasoned operator. "You and your team had your chance. Time to let us get it done. Should've been ours to begin with."
“Who are you?”
“Cal Roe.”
“So?”
“I’m HRT Commander.”
"Where's the assault team?" Hatch asked.
"On standby in Anchorage." Roe was fuming.
"Anchorage? It's going to take your team over an hour to get here."
"Two. We still have to fly back and refuel." Roe eyed the chopper Cruise and Hertzog were being loaded into. "Hell, that's if we get the green light. After this fiasco and the unstable ground situation, who knows how long that'll be."
"Thank you for making my case." Hatch walked closer to Cruise. She removed the Kimber Custom II semiautomatic pistol from the dropdown holster on his right leg.
"Don't even think about it." Roe stepped in Hatch's path. "I already spoke with Tracy."
"I don't work for Talon." Hatch stepped around Roe.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Hatch."
"And you think you're just going to walk in and save Lawson all by yourself? With nothing but a pistol?" He laughed. “Damn crazy woman.”
"There's more gear in their SUV." Hatch tucked the pistol at the small of her back and then jogged off. "And who said anything about walking?"
Roe crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. "The next time these choppers come back, it’s gonna be with my assault team. You understand me? There will be no rescue mission for you. We will not be returning for you."
Hatch ignored Roe’s threat and picked up the pace of her jog. She slowed when Burton Hill ran up alongside her on the left. "Where to next, partner?"
"Sorry, this next part I do alone."
Hill looked hurt. "I could be an extra set of eyes. A lookout, ya know. I keep watch and you do whatever Greatest American Hero thing you do."
"Those men on that chopper owe you for saving their lives. And I owe you for all you've done. But I will not repay that debt by sending you to your grave.” She stopped and faced him. “Mind if I borrow your keys?"
Hill stared at her for a minute without speaking as he processed what she was asking. His lips drew tight, and he began nodding. "Spare is on the back." Hill handed the keys over. "Take care of her for me."
"I'll have Jessie back in one piece."
Hill slowed and dropped back. "Fair winds and following seas."
A loud crack like that of a bullwhip the length of the Mississippi River filled the air. Hatch was thrown into the air and landed on the wet ground. She regained her footing and looked back. A twenty-foot divide now separated Hatch from the others. She looked on without any way to assist as a helicopter fell into the void.