CHAPTER 38

Lucien watched with amazement at the destructive power of the avalanche, tossing trees and boulders into the air, a massive white wall gathering up everything in its path, growing in size as the cloud of snow expanded and rumbled in a rapid vertical line. Lucien felt the vibration of the slide from where he stood, mesmerized by the thunderous sound. He had read about the phenomena, but never witnessed anything like the havoc and devastation that occurred below him. Lucien and his men were the last ones to see Claudia Kohl alive, he was sure of it. The thugs were lined up across the top of the cliff, watching as the violence of the slide rumbled and grew, devouring everything in its path. Enthralled by the carnage, they watched as the three men and Claudia were picked up and swallowed into the belly of the massive white beast.

The mammoth roar grew quiet, and the earth was once again still. What remained was a gentle white pasture of snow, silent, with no trees or rocks in its way, creating another chute in one of nature’s homemade ski runs.

All around them, the woods were at rest.

As if nothing had happened.

Lucien, as intrigued as he was by the destructive power of the avalanche and its aftermath, understood that his problems had just begun. Without Claudia Kohl, the scientist knew his financier would be upset, very upset. Mohammed was not a man to trifle with. His tentacles were vast and could reach across the globe.

There would be no place for Lucien to hide.

He tried to think of a remedy, and touched the updated treatise he held in the small of his back. Perhaps there was a way, he thought. The Committee scientists had worked with the treatise. They had been foolish and rushed to conduct physical tests. They had been too anxious. He was better than all of them, all of them except Claudia, of course. She was gone now and he had to think of a way out.

Hamid was quiet, but gave Lucien a knowing look when the avalanche settled and they realized Claudia was gone. They had failed in their quest and there would be consequences to pay. Mohammed was a God to him, and failure was not an option for this great man. Allah knew, he thought, the suffering for one or all of them involved in this chase would be great.

If that was Allah’s will, so be it.

Lucien was still, lost in thought as he stared at the flat wide chute the avalanche had created beneath him. His trance was broken by the concrete grip of Hamid on his arm.

“Sir? We must leave before the authorities arrive.”

“Damn it; we lost her,” said Lucien, his voice angry, kicking a rock off the cliff.

Hamid pointed at the vehicles.

“Alright,” said Lucien. “Load up.”

Hamid signaled to the remainder of his men. Their movement hidden by the thick trees lining the mountain road, they fled the cabin in their two vehicles, invisible to any aerial surveillance.

***

John dialed Todd’s cell phone for the fifth time. They were in the loud helicopter cockpit, headed for the cabin. John was anxious to hear something, anything from Claudia. He looked at Professor Blackstone.

“They must be out of range. If I know Claudia, she and Todd are in the middle of the woods in some great powder.”

Blackstone had a worried look on his face.

“Over there,” the Professor pointed. “Right after that clearing is the cabin.” He tapped the pilot on his shoulder. “Take it lower.”

John scanned the area next to the cabin, looking for some sign of Claudia or Todd. “Look! Over there,” he pointed. “Tire tracks in the snow. And there is the Jeep.”

“I hope she’s alright,” said Blackstone.

John noticed other footprints and tracks next to the cabin. “Look, ski tracks. If they jumped off before those vehicles got here, there’s no way anybody could catch Claudia and … Oh my God.”

“What is it?” said Blackstone.

John tapped the pilot. “Over there. NOW! Take us over there, into that bowl.”

John was silent as he surveyed the white chute that led from the top of the cliff to the bottom of the bowl. The helicopter followed the path and was about to land at the bottom when John tapped him again. “No,” he pointed, “not on that snow. You’ll hamper any rescue efforts. Land on that rock plateau, over on the side.”

Professor Blackstone was confused. “Rescue efforts?”

John’s face was dark as he pointed at the chute marking the slide. He gently touched the Professor’s shoulder.

“An avalanche.” John pointed. “That white path of snow. …There was an avalanche.”

“NO.” Blackstone shook, unable to control himself.

The helicopter landed and John stayed with the pilot as the Professor struggled to climb out. The seventy-year-old scientist rushed as best he could across the snow, stumbling and falling as he headed to the slide area. John spoke on the radio to the civilian search and rescue team, giving them the satellite coordinates and location of the avalanche. He gave the pilot the name of a Swiss general. He told the pilot to radio the military, to use Blackstone’s name, and try and get them to send a military rescue team. John passed off the microphone, jumped out of the helicopter, scrambling after Blackstone.

The Professor continued to stumble and fall as he pushed through the snow, making his way over to the scraped off area that marked the path of the slide. The helicopter motor shut down. The wooded area around them was silent; a natural aftermath of the slide.

John was breathing hard as he caught up with Blackstone. The Professor was bent over, digging something out of the snow.

“I notified Search and Rescue. I also called the military, they –”

Blackstone did not reply. He pulled something out of the snow, but John was behind him and could not see it.

“What is it?” said John.

The teary-eyed Professor handed him a ski pole, identical to one that John had selected for Claudia. John took it, and was quiet as he rolled it over and examined the evidence.

John Webster was a man who had spent his entire adult life and professional career as a soldier. He had worked his way through the ranks, starting as an enlisted man, finishing college and then becoming a Special Forces Officer. By his military nature a stoic, he had been trained to steel himself against his emotions, to face death and carnage as an occupational hazard, and to stay strong for his men.

But this was more than any man could fathom. John felt a sharp pain contract the muscles in his stomach. He cringed, and bent over, half falling as he dropped to his knees, cradling the ski pole, crying out in anguish for a compassionate God to come and save him from this earthly hell.

“Oh God, no, please. No no no no.”

“Tell me this is a dream,” he tearfully spoke, “and that she is still with us.” His mind raced with a picture of Claudia. In his mind she was the most special person to have ever walked this planet, someone that Divine Province had as part of a master plan.

Someone that John Webster had loved with all his heart.

Claudia Kohl was dead.

Blackstone fell to his knees and cradled the distraught soldier’s head against his chest. Tears streamed from the physicist as he rocked back and forth, thinking of the brilliant young woman he had lost, the only daughter the elder man had ever known.

Their sobs echoed across the still winter silence.