By midafternoon Angelica had already switched to her second battery pack. But the data entry was going well. She’d gotten up several times, walked around outside the cabin for some fresh air, checked on the blizzard and brought in firewood.
Nate had gone back to bed, happy to sleep his day away. She understood, but, at the same time, there was work to do. She was determined to get as much done as she could.
Steve, on the other hand, alternated between doing yoga stretches and singing songs. That was enough to get on anybody’s nerves. He had a decent-enough singing voice, but he butchered the songs. And he seemed happy doing so.
Hannah had made some food, done a little work, grabbed a book and gone back to bed to read.
Whereas Angelica couldn’t stop working. It gave her something to focus on and was the whole reason she was up here. Sure, she could do all that data entry after she returned home, but, this way, at least she got some work done while trapped in the cabin. Her back was sore and stiff from sitting in the same place for too long; it was already four-thirty, and darkness had settled in.
She straightened, put the ever-consumed water back on the stove and realized it was time to get more snow. She walked out of the cabin with the pot, found a clean spot and piled up some of the fresh snow, packing it in tight. It always melted down to very little. Whenever she got the water heated, everybody wanted a drink. She scooped up a large bowl at the same time and brought it in with her. With the stove once again melting the snow, she added more snow until they had a pot of boiling water. She yawned. Something about living in the cold air like this made her want to sleep more.
She’d been outside a dozen times already today, but she still couldn’t see any farther than a couple feet in front of her. It would be a cold night too. Another reason she hadn’t wanted to spend the day in bed. It was much harder to acclimate once the temperature dropped if you spent all day tucked into your sleeping bag.
With the water ready, she walked over to her reserve pack of food. If she knew for sure when they could leave, she’d eat heartily right now. However, considering they might be here an extra two days, they needed to restrict their intake of supplies each day. She had a lot of freeze-dried food just for these occasions. She looked at her options. “Irish stew or chili?”
“Irish stew please,” Steve called out. “Protect the rest of us from you having beans.”
She snorted. “Only as long as you do the same.”
“I didn’t bring any chili,” he said. “I’ve got some megalicious gourmet packs this time.”
“Yeah, what kind?”
“They’re military-grade freeze-dried packs,” he said. “I think I’ve got something like corned beef hash and maybe lasagna in there.”
“I don’t know. Freeze-dried lasagna doesn’t sound too appetizing.” She called out, “Nate, are you awake? Do you want some dinner?”
“That’s a good idea,” he said.
With the food divvied up for their evening meal, she opened hers, added water as directed, stirred it and then squeezed it into one of the bowls that came with the cabin.
Finally, with all of them sitting around the tiny table, they had dinner together. When the meal was done, she reheated more water and sat in front of the fire with a cup of herbal tea, enjoying one of her last evenings up here. “I don’t know when I’ll be back,” she said. “It always feels weird when we get to this point.”
“I know. It’s serene here,” Steve said. “And yet, at the same time, you realize just how small you are in the world.”
Hannah checked her phone. “Still no reception.”
“Not going to be any until we get down to one of the cabins on a lower level,” Nate said. “It’s not that clear out.”
“I wanted to take more measurements.” Angelica frowned. “We were hoping for another set of data.”
“Doubt it’ll happen. Today was a bust, and we’re set to go down the mountain tomorrow if we can.”
“I did build in a two-day contingency plan,” Angelica tried.
“Only if we contacted them tonight. By not contacting them tonight,” Hannah warned, “they’re expecting us to connect tomorrow from the lower cabins.”
Angelica groaned and nodded. “I know. I was just hoping.”
Nate chuckled. “You always try to stay longer.”
“It’s my life’s work,” she said simply.
“Whereas we just have lives,” Steve said in a mocking tone.
She shrugged. She’d heard it all before.
Before too long, the chamomile tea did its job. After they settled the fire for the night, they all climbed into their bunks. But sleep was a long time coming.
Hannah still read by flashlight, and one of the guys played games on his phone. For herself, she’d rather not waste her batteries because she never knew when she might really need them.
It wasn’t the ending to the trip she’d hoped for, but it was what it was. If she got down to the other cabins and could arrange to stay for an extra couple days, she’d stay alone.
She knew it went against protocol, but they only had so many days available to do this research. And, sure, they were running out of supplies, and the others were probably more than happy to be heading home now, but she would like to squeeze in those extra few days. Still, she’d have to deal with whatever Mother Nature dealt. Some things you just couldn’t argue about.
She slept fitfully, waking several times in the night to hear the winds gusting around the small cabin. She got up once to throw more wood onto the fire and then turned the damper down to hold in the heat overnight.
When she crawled back into bed, she thought she heard something outside. She got up to look out the window, but saw nothing. If anyone or anything was out there, they were out of luck finding shelter. The cabin would be impossible to see—although she’d certainly had other hikers and climbers find their way to her cabin at odd times. It was an unusual occurrence, and usually the people were in tough shape and more than desperate for a warm place to stay.
Because she’d heard something once, she strained to hear it again throughout the night. But never did. When she woke up the next morning, the skies were gray and cloudy, but it looked like the snow and winds had stopped.
She stepped out of the cabin and looked around. Fresh snow had settled everywhere, putting an absolutely gorgeous blanket of white on top of the hard and crusty snow below. This would make it harder to trek though. It’d be soft and thick, but then you’d hit the crust and break through.
They’d have to proceed carefully, as the blizzard had dumped well over a foot of fresh snow. She headed back inside and started packing up. A little food was prepared for breakfast, so they could get on the road fast.
Her gear was all packed up, with her work boxed up and placed into a custom-made bag with front straps, so she could carry her big pack on her back and the work pack on her front. Then she put water on to boil and brought out the coffee.
With the others slowly waking and packing up their own gear, she sat in her corner and sipped her coffee, watching them. She’d worked with all of them many times over. This was a routine they knew well. But an air of excitement was around them today because this was their last morning here. There was always excitement when they arrived. But the excitement soon turned to the drudgery of living in a small cabin in these temperatures. They were more than ready to leave now.
With the cabin cleaned up, the garbage stowed away in their own packs, they left nothing behind except extra canned food that any traveler might need. So they put the cabin back to rights, filled it with firewood that could dry for the next person and stepped out, locking the door with a crossbeam—so it didn’t blow open in storms—but not leaving it locked so any traveler who needed shelter could have it.
And, with a glance around, she made the decision. “We’re tying up, just in case.”
Not one of them grumbled. The weather could change in a heartbeat up here. Once they got to the next cabin, it wasn’t so bad. But the trek would take them hours. With the ropes lashed firmly between them, she took the lead. She tired quickly because she was breaking ground with a fresh trail.
Steve stepped up and took over the lead. She stepped into second place, and they continued this rotation, everyone taking the lead to ease the workload on breaking ground.
They were about an hour and a half in when she thought she heard something. She glanced around and said, “Did anybody hear that?”
“Can’t hear anything up here,” Steve said, his earmuffs half covering both ears. But he had one lifted so he could hear her better. “I prefer to keep my ears covered all the time.”
“I thought I heard voices,” she said.
He laughed. “We’re the only idiots out at this altitude and this temperature.”
She shrugged. She couldn’t say a whole lot about what she had heard, but it sounded to her like men’s voices.
They carried on for another half hour, but she kept looking around. As if they were being watched. Finally they stopped for a break at the two-and-a-half-hour mark.
They stood for a few minutes, shaking out their legs and then sitting down to give their legs a bit of a rest. With the earmuffs off, Steve said, “It feels weird today.”
She agreed. “Honestly it feels like we’re being watched.”
The others looked at her in surprise.
She shrugged. “That’s just what I feel.”
“You’ve been doing this long enough,” Nate said, “that I think you should listen to your intuition.”
“I can listen all I want,” she said. “It doesn’t help though because I can’t see anybody. It seems like that tree line we’ve been walking along is a good thirty feet across. It’s a great place to hide. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if we go over there and find footprints.”
“We tried walking the tree line once, didn’t we? And we found it easier in terms of the snowpack underneath, but the trees kept dropping snow on top of us, making us wetter and colder than we thought possible.”
She laughed. “I remember that. Now we avoid the trees and just walk along the edge.” She bounced to her feet. “We’ve got another two hours—maybe one and a half if we can keep up a solid pace.”
“Which we can’t,” Nate said. “We’ve made good time so far. But we’ll be a couple hours more, and that’s just the facts of life.” He got to his feet, willingly enough. “I’ll lead.”
She nodded happily. “I’ll go second.”
With Hannah pulling up the rear, they marched off again. Quickly they fell silent, preserving their energy for the trip.
She lost track of time. So focused on placing one foot in front of the other, she suddenly realized something had shifted around her. She lifted her earmuffs to listen. When she heard a crack, she expected to see a tree branch fall. Instead, Nate tripped and went down. She stepped to his side. When she got there, all she could see was blood.
She crouched beside him and was suddenly flattened to the ground by a heavy weight. A man spoke against her ear, whispering, “Stay down.”
*
Anders’s heart damn-near stopped when he caught sight of a sniper rifle poking through the trees, and that had been before he’d heard the shot. It had been all he could do to drop his packs and get to her side before it was too late. He didn’t know her well, but he knew enough. She was a hell of a woman, and this was the last way she should go down. Flattened in the snow, both wearing bright gear to be seen in case of blizzards or disasters, they were easy targets.
She gasped for breath.
He rolled off her and whispered, “Angel, stay where you are.”
She stared at him. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Trying to save your life.” Her mouth slowly closed, and he admired her ability to process information quickly.
“Nate?” She twisted and tried to get to him.
Anders pressed her back down. “Stay here. I’ll check on him.” She shot Anders a mutinous look, and he shrugged. “Nate’s been shot. You could be next.” He shook a finger at her as her glare continued. “I don’t give a damn if you like it or not,” he said, “but you will follow my orders.” He scrambled up, staying low. He hadn’t come alone, and, as soon as the sniper had taken his shot, he had triggered everybody’s alarms.
Behind Anders, he could hear her two other team members calling out, but Anders focused on Nate. Anders rolled the man over to see blood welling up from an injury high in his chest. He was out cold, but the injury itself didn’t appear to be fatal. When he realized the man carried a flask that had deflected the bullet, sending it at a slightly different angle, Anders sighed in relief. Just enough that it had missed his heart.
That shot wasn’t meant to simply hurt somebody; it had been intended to take out everyone around her. And the sniper would have, if she’d been alone. But Anders’s team had changed the sniper’s plans. Anders applied pressure to Nate’s wound, whispering back to her, “He’s hit high in the shoulder, but it’s not fatal.”
“Well, thank God for that,” she said. “But, up here, it might as well be fatal.”
He thought about her words and winced. “Depends on the weather.”
“We’re probably another forty minutes from the next hut,” she said. “He has to get inside where he can be warm. His body temperature will drop so fast up here that he’ll never wake up.” She pushed herself to her feet.
He glared at her. “You never did listen worth a damn.”
“Well, the last time you were yelling at me, you were telling me how my fiancé was an asshole and how I should leave him for you.”
He stared at her blankly. “Funny, I don’t remember that,” he murmured.
She snorted. “Maybe too many gin and tonics were the reason.”
He shook his head. “No. I rarely drink to that point.”
“You might have had reason,” she said. “I’d just told you that I was engaged to Mark.”
He snorted. “That asshole?”
“Yes, that asshole.”
“So how’s married life going?” he asked caustically. “You would have been better off married to me.”
“To get ordered around all the time? Like hell.”
“You didn’t bother answering about how married life is going.”
“It’s not going because I never got married.”
He froze for a moment, then turned to look at her. “Really?”
“You were right. He was an asshole. He betrayed me at the next conference. I found him sleeping with one of the staff in my own hotel room that I had paid for.”
“Wow. Okay. So that’s a serious kind of asshole.”
“Exactly.” She glanced around. “Did you come alone?”
“No. I’m waiting for a signal that they’ve taken out the sniper, or at least that it’s safe to get up and move.”
She snorted. “We need to get Nate down to the cabin fast.” She motioned at the others. “We all need to get inside where it’s warm.”
“That might be, but we’re not taking Nate anywhere and getting you shot in the meantime.”
“Speaking of which, why the hell are you here?”
“Your father.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want anything to do with him.”
“You don’t have a choice,” Anders said tiredly. “Somebody is trying to use you to get at him, possibly to kidnap you for leverage over your father. If a bullet hole in your friend here isn’t enough proof that you’re in danger, what is? I highly suggest you stop fighting me on this.”
“Why the hell would I do that?” she asked with spirit. “If anything, I’m even less likely to take orders from you.”
“I thought you’d have seen what we had,” he said, his voice low. “But apparently you can’t see past your own nose.”
A hawk’s cry ripped through the air.
Finally the signal. Anders stood, packed Nate’s wound tight with a bandage from his pack. He then hefted Nate high on his shoulder, staggering under his weight, then set out. The other three crowded around him.
“What the hell happened?” Hannah cried out.
He glanced at her, recognizing her face from the conference where he’d met Angelica. “It’s Hannah, isn’t it?”
She shot him a hard look. “Yes, it is, but I sure as hell don’t know you.”
“Meet one of our fine American military officers,” Angelica said, “always out to protect and to serve. Naval Officer Anders Renau.”
“No longer in the military, thank you very much.” He swore as his foot came down, reaching the crust and breaking through. This was treacherous footing. It would help a lot if somebody broke the trail for him, but he wouldn’t ask any of these guys. Once his own men joined them, it would be easier going. Anders kept up the silent march, packing Nate, who had to be at least 180 pounds himself. But, with all his gear, he topped the two hundred mark. “Keep an eye out for a blood trail behind us,” he said. “If you see it, make sure you bury it. We don’t want anyone or anything able to follow us.”
One of the other men stepped forward and said, “I’m Steve. Let me break trail for you.” He traipsed in front and moved ahead.
“Thanks,” Anders said. “I’m not sure how many miles we have to travel, but we need to get there as fast as we can.”
“I don’t even know where the hell you came from, let alone that bullet,” Steve said. “It all happened so fast. Next thing I know, Nate was down, and you were tackling Angelica.”
“He does that a lot,” Angelica said. “Apparently Carlo is in trouble again, and they’ve come to retrieve me.”
She had said it with such disdain that Anders groaned. “You know we’re trying to keep you safe …” And something more was going on with Angel and her father for her to resort to calling him by his first name.
“Sure. I wish you’d kept Nate safe instead,” she said bitterly. “If he’s been shot because of something Carlo has done, … I’ll never forgive him.”
“Your father is a member of parliament. He makes enemies,” Anders said, “but this is less about him and more about the danger you are in. As such, why not let us keep you safe?” He walked a moment. “I didn’t know who you were, you know?”
At that, he could hear her tone of disbelief with a single huff.
“Okay, fine. I knew your name, but I didn’t realize you were the daughter of a member of parliament.”
“That’s because I deliberately don’t advertise that,” she said. “You know what it’s like growing up with a political figure as a parent?”
“It would have been a different lifestyle for sure,” he said.
The going was treacherous with a slight decline, and his boots were slipping. The last thing he wanted was to drop Nate.
At the end of the line, Hannah said urgently, “Somebody’s behind us.”
He slowed his footsteps, opened his throat and sent out a wild cry. When the answer came back, he said, “Not to worry. It’s one of my men.”
“One of your men?” Hannah asked. “How many are here?”
“Four of us good guys. As for the assholes who shot Nate, I have no idea, but it definitely won’t be just one.”
“Did your friends take out the shooter?” Hannah asked.
“Not sure. None of us are safe here.” Anders’s tone was hard. “Somebody went to a lot of effort to come up here after you.”
“Here? Why? What have we done?” Steve asked. “And I get that you and Angelica have a history, but what kind of history? Details please,” he added with a big grin.
“The only history we have,” she said in exasperation, “was a moment of friendship.”
“Only so far as a friendship can go when you’re engaged to be married,” he said. “And that guy was a plain asshole anyway. If you’d listened to me, it would’ve saved you a lot of heartache.”
“Maybe I don’t like know-it-all men,” she snapped. “And you telling me to ditch my fiancé because you’d be a much better man for me wasn’t helpful.”
“Yeah. How about now?”
Steve, still breaking the path in front of him, started laughing. “You two are hilarious. If you were like this before, you must have ruffled her feathers plenty.”
“Angel definitely wasn’t an ice queen back then,” he said with a sigh. “There was plenty of heat. Which is why I knew she had no business marrying that idiot. Especially when he sat at the bar surrounded by women.”
“It was a business networking session,” she said defensively.
“Yeah, he was networking all right,” Anders said. “Body language doesn’t lie. He was networking into anybody’s bed he could get into.”
Angelica remained silent.
He realized that airing their dirty laundry in front of her research team was not a smart idea. “At least all is well that ends well,” he said in a conciliatory tone. “He’s out of your life. And you’re much better off.”
She groaned. “Okay. Can we change the subject from my personal life please?”
“Do we have to?” Hannah asked in an attempt at lightness. “It’s the most fascinating conversation we’ve had in the last week.”
It was a good way to keep people’s minds off the harsh pace Anders had set.
“And why is your friend following us anyway?” Hannah asked.
“He’s removing our tracks to make it harder to follow us.”
At Steve’s quick twist to look at Anders and then to immediately pivot back, walking a little faster, Anders realized the others understood.
“How much longer?” Hannah’s panic rode the edge of her voice.
“I’d say about fifteen minutes,” Anders said. He refused to keep checking the time. The hike would end when the hike would end.
He was accustomed to marching, but the differing terrain, the snow and the hills made this trek a little bit more dangerous. The fact they were out in the open made it that much more dangerous. He could have gone to the tree line and stayed hidden for a little longer, but the end result was, they would still have to march out in the open at this point. The cabin was below them. Nate was still tied up with the connecting rope to the others, and, since Anders carried Nate, Anders was part of the rope chain. But, if one of them went down, … that wouldn’t be a good idea, considering Nate and Anders. And he couldn’t slide the next couple hundred feet either. Although they would move much faster, it could also cause them a lot more injuries.
Just then Steve tripped and went down. He rolled until his rope grew taut. Anders hit the brakes, knowing the rope around Nate would soon pull on them both. Anders grabbed it with his free hand and pulled backward to stop Steve’s stumble. The two women were caught up in the rope behind Nate. With Steve in the lead and now on the ground, the ropes were even more important.
Slowly Steve made it to his knees. He stopped and took a deep breath, looked around him and said, “Well, that wasn’t much fun.”
“Let me break the trail,” Angelica said.
“No,” Anders said. “You stay right at my side.”
“That won’t help us much,” she said in exasperation. “We have to get Nate to safety. And fast.”
“That’s fine,” Anders said, “but what I don’t want is anybody else falling. If we have to slow it down a little bit, then we will.”
“You’re the one carrying Nate. Aren’t you tired?” Steve slowly made his way to his feet. “I can’t say this is a pace I’m terribly comfortable with. My legs are already killing me and so are my lungs.”
“The cabin is up ahead,” Angelica said reassuringly. “This has ended up being quite the nightmare.”
Steve shot her a look. “You’re not kidding. If Nate doesn’t make it …”
“Nate has brand new twin sons at home,” she said firmly. “We’ll do everything possible to get him back to them once again.”