Reunion Pass: An Eternity Springs novel (10 page)

“The engine. I’m a decent mechanic. With any luck I’ll figure out what’s wrong and have us airborne in ten minutes. No sense scrambling the forces if we can get ourselves out of this jam.”

“Then let’s get busy and fix this bird.”

“What can I do?” Whitelaw asked. “I don’t know anything about helicopter engines, but I’m a great assistant. Want me to hand you tools?”

“Sure.”

They went to work on identifying the problem. Chase knew a little about engines, but he ran through that basic knowledge quickly. The fast, easy fix they’d all hoped for didn’t happen. Bradley kept at it longer, and after half an hour of trying one thing after another, he threw in the wrench. “That’s it. I don’t know what else to try. Sorry, boss.”

“I’m not your boss,” Chase muttered. It was an old argument, and one he figured both men found comforting at this juncture.

“What are we going to do?” Whitelaw asked, subdued.

“Engage the GPS beacons and get to work setting up a camp, just in case.”

“Just in case,” Whitelaw repeated, his voice glum. The kid shoved his hands in his pockets and turned in a slow circle. “Do you seriously think we’ll have to spend the night here?”

Chase pulled up the GPS function on his phone and checked their position. “I think it’s a fifty/fifty proposition.” To Bradley, he said, “You have a paper map?”

“In the pocket on the side of my seat.”

A longtime map aficionado, Chase appreciated the ease of electronic maps, but when he needed to study one, he liked to stretch out a physical version.

He pinpointed their position and whistled beneath his breath. “If we hadn’t made it over that ridge, we’d have been screwed. We were damned lucky to find this spot.”

“It’s because you were with us. You have the damnedest luck, Timberlake. That’s why I like piloting for you when shooting the show.”

Chase’s mouth twisted and his thoughts flashed to Lori. “A friend used to say I have an angel on my shoulder.”

Bradley snorted. “I wouldn’t go that far. I don’t see an angel coexisting with those horns on the top of your head.”

Chase flipped him the bird, then folded the map and absently stuck it in the pocket of his camera case. “How much water do we have on board?”

Bradley leaned into the helo and flipped open a cooler. “Four.”

“You have your pack?” he asked Bradley, recalling that Whitelaw had boarded the helo without one.

“Of course.”

Chase never went anywhere without his pack, so they were well equipped for an overnight on this high flat if they needed to access their water filtration supplies. “We need to recon a water source.”

Whitelaw asked, “Want me to do it?”

The kid was like a puppy, Chase thought. Eager to please, but clueless. He recalled an incident during a shoot in Switzerland when the poor guy came close to walking off the side of a cliff. He was definitely no mountaineer.

Bradley’s thoughts ran along the same line as Chase’s because he shook his head. “Let Timberlake look. He’ll find water faster than either one of us. Gonna pick a campsite for us, too, or do we stay with the ship?”

“We need to shelter at the base of the mountain within reach of higher ground. Hard to know where the runoff goes in a place like this if we were to have a toad-strangling thunderstorm.”

All three men looked at the sky where ominous dark clouds built to the west. His tone subdued, Whitelaw asked, “What do you want us to do?”

“Gather whatever we might need or be able to use from the helo and be ready to move when I come back.”

Chase grabbed his pack and slipped it onto his back. Out of habit rather than conscious thought, he picked up his camera bag, hooked it over his shoulder, and added, “Hopefully, this won’t take long.”

He started to strike out through the waist-high grass toward the mountain looming like Mordor in front of him, but after half a step, he paused. “Any weapons on board, Bradley?”

His friend shook his head. “Just my knife. You?”

“Knife.” Chase would have liked something with a trigger.

“Weapons? Why would we need weapons?” Whitelaw jerked his gaze around frantically. “Oh, jeez. You think there’re wild animals up here? Are we in danger from tigers?”

“I’m more concerned about animals of the two-legged variety,” Bradley observed.

Whitelaw’s brow knotted. “Why?”

“There is some bad mojo going on in this part of the world.”

“Not in Chizickstan!” Whitelaw protested. “The locals love Americans. This isn’t Afghanistan.”

“No wonder you get along with Chase’s lady so well. Let me give you a piece of advice, son. You need to start thinking for yourself.”

Whitelaw turned a worried gaze toward Chase. “Chase? Do you agree with him?”

Chase thought of the warnings that had precipitated today’s argument with Lana. They were still over a hundred miles away from Markhor Pass, and the last village they’d flown over had been in a valley over five minutes ago by air. This wasn’t a spot any mujahedeen were likely to be wandering around while they waited for the searchers to arrive. And yet …

“Chase?” Whitelaw repeated.

Damn, he looks young. And scared.
Chase attempted to reassure him. “Considering our particular landing spot, I suspect that the most dangerous thing we’re liable to encounter while we’re here is a mountain goat. That said, they can be inquisitive sonsobitches. Don’t forget they own the trail. Go at least fifty yards away to piss.”

“Fifty yards? Why?”

“They like the salt.”

With a wave, he headed out. Just before he disappeared into the high grass, Bradley called out. “Hey, Timberlake.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“I decided what I want as my prize for whipping your ass in darts last week.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I want a pan of your mother’s lasagna.”

Chase grinned. Bradley had accompanied Chase on a visit to Colorado a year ago, and of course, Mom had cooked for them. Bradley hadn’t stopped talking about her lasagna since—especially once he learned she sometimes sent frozen lasagna packed in dry ice to Chase in Manhattan.

“I can probably beg her to send some.”

“No. I want your mom’s lasagna fresh. I want to go to Colorado and have it there. With salad and hot bread and tiramisu for dessert.”

“Sounds like a plan.” It would make his mom crazy happy, Chase knew. She always loved it when he brought friends home to visit.

With a final wave, he moved into the grass. He traveled as quickly as was safe, physical exertion helping to chase the chill from his bones. The cold wind whipping across the grassland easily penetrated the T-shirt he’d pulled on that morning. Like him, Bradley would have a survival blanket in his pack, but with two blankets shared by three men, it likely wouldn’t be a pleasant night. He’d need to pick a spot out of the wind—and hope the direction didn’t shift in the middle of the night.

The grass was thick, difficult to penetrate, and higher the closer he got to the cliffs. Progress proved slower than he’d anticipated. He completely lost sight of the helo. The grass finally ended about twenty yards from the rock face, but the stretch of cliff directly in front of him offered less than ideal shelter.

He followed the perimeter of the grassland over truly horrible terrain and eventually identified a viable shelter and source of water. He turned around and wasn’t surprised to see that he would need to climb higher to view the helicopter and chart the best way back to it.

He needed to go about twelve feet up. No big deal. He identified a path up, but when he lifted his boot to take the first step, he hesitated. What the heck? Chase had climbed hundreds of mountains in his life, scaled his share of sheer rock faces. Relatively speaking, making this ascent would be a piece of cake. But for some weird reason, the climb filled him with dread.

“Don’t be stupid, Timberlake,” he muttered. And he climbed. Two feet. Six. Ten. A glance over his shoulder. Nope. The slight rise at the center of the grasslands meant he needed to take it a little higher.

Four feet would have done it, but he spied a ledge at six. Gaining it, he found his balance and turned around.

Oh, God. No.

Chapter Seven

Mac and Ali went home to Heartache Falls. The Callahans, Murphys, Raffertys, Davenports, and Celeste went with them.

The phone call from Lana had ended before she’d provided more than bottom-line information. Local search-and-rescue officials had needed to speak with her, so she’d promised to provide more details via Internet phone call in two hours.

They were the longest two hours of Lori’s life.

She hadn’t spoken one word since hearing Ali say that Chase was missing. In Chizickstan. It wasn’t like he’d gone off the trail on Murphy Mountain. He was in a part of the world where bad things happened. Really bad things.

The fear that gripped her was unlike any she’d ever experienced. Her insides had turned to ice, and she felt as if she stood at the very rim of Lover’s Leap, waiting for news that would push her over the edge. Conversation remained muted. Tension thickened the air in the Timberlakes’ family room where they’d all gathered, waiting for the call. Lori was inordinately grateful when her mother sat down beside her on the sofa and silently took her hand.

The two-hour mark finally came—and went. The computer remained despairingly silent. Finally, eight and one half minutes after the appointed time, the laptop signaled an incoming call.

Lana’s face came into view, and seeing her, Lori gripped her mother’s hand even harder. The woman looked haggard. “Mr. and Mrs. Timberlake, I’m so sorry. I—”

“Wait,” Mac interrupted. “Please repeat what you told Chase’s mother for my benefit.”

Lana visibly swallowed hard, and then in a shaky voice, she spoke of a helicopter trip into a remote mountain wilderness carrying Chase and two other men. No phone was on board, but at some point, they activated their emergency beacons.

“Miscommunication at camp meant that nobody was concerned when they didn’t return by dark,” Lana said. “I had left shortly after Chase, so I wasn’t there. I returned after dark and didn’t realize the helo wasn’t in the LZ. Nobody noticed the emergency signal until late the following afternoon, and by then, it was too close to dark to track them.”

“You didn’t notice?” Cam muttered.

Lana rubbed her brow, then shoved her fingers through her hair. “We took off at first light and followed the beacon right to the helicopter. It’s in a high meadow. It didn’t wreck. They obviously landed safely. Only—” She closed her eyes. “It’s burned. It’s burned and there are no bodies inside, but my men are not there.” Her voice broke. “There’s no sign of them.”

Mac dragged his intense gaze away from the computer screen long enough to look at his wife. “That’s good news, honey. If anyone knows how to survive in the wilderness, it’s Chase.”

Ali held her hands steepled over her mouth. She still didn’t speak, but nodded.

“What’s being done to find them?”

“We are searching by air, and we currently have twelve people on the ground searching the plateau. We have located the nearest villages and we have people looking for locals who are familiar with that area, but it is extremely remote. So far, we’ve struck out. Although…” She drew a deep breath and exhaled sharply.

A wave of dread rolled over Lori. She didn’t like the sound of that sigh one bit. Mac’s subtle stiffening told her that he sensed the same thing.

Lana continued. “I’m not sure they’re telling the truth. My crew members have picked up some rumors about the presence of strangers in the mountains. A completely different part of the mountains, mind you, but if Chase was right—”

“About what?”

“Outsiders. Chase believed that outsiders from other countries might be coming into the more remote areas of Chizickstan.”

Outsiders,
Lori silently repeated. What did she mean … oh. Terrorists?
No. Please God, no.

“So, what? My son decided to climb onto a helicopter and check out the rumors himself?” Mac snapped.

Lana opened her mouth to reply, then hesitated. After the pause, she shrugged and continued without responding directly to his question. “We haven’t substantiated any of the rumors. No one in the villages is talking about it, but we sense a threatened undercurrent. It’s as if they’ve been silenced.”

Ali swayed and Mac reached out to steady her. He continued to stare at the computer screen, and Lori could tell he hadn’t dragged his mind beyond the horrific possibility Lana had just presented. When his hesitation became obvious, Jack Davenport stepped up and asked, “Are you using dogs?”

“No. Not yet. We have to fly them in, and to be honest, I don’t think they’ll be able to help. This area has had a significant amount of rain in the past few days. Any trail they left has likely been washed away.”

“You will try, though,” Davenport fired back.

“Yes. Of course. They’re on their way as we speak.”

Mac finally found his voice. “What can you tell us about the fire? Was it set?”

“I don’t know. None of us here have the knowledge base to determine that. Again, I’m waiting on an expert to arrive.”

“Lots of waiting going on,” Lori’s father muttered.

“You need to send the coordinates of the position to me at this number immediately,” Jack said, then rattled off his telephone number.

That’s when Lori remembered that Jack had government connections. He’d
been
a government connection himself not too long ago.
Bet he can get access to spy satellites.
Hope flared inside her at the thought.

And she couldn’t forget about Gabe’s family, either. His brothers ran a security business of some kind. Mac and Ali Timberlake had many people on whom they could call for help.

Jack asked a few more terrain-specific questions, then nodded to Mac, indicating that he was through. Mac asked, “Did Chase—” He broke off when his voice choked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Did Chase have his backpack with him?”

“I’m sure he did,” Lana responded. “He never left camp without it and his camera bag, and neither one are in our tent. The helicopter pilot always carries one, too.”