Mountain Challenge (Mont Blanc Rescue #9)

Chapter 9

9

Ry

R y finished inspecting Hugo’s harness, then waited while his friend checked his.

“All good,” Hugo confirmed.

Their equipment was regularly checked for signs of wear and deterioration, but they were about to use it to jump off a helicopter, so the redundancy didn’t bother him.

What did bother him was the fact that he’d to leave Isla in the middle of the night. Or four am, to be precise, when Beau had called the team together to join a search party for two missing hikers.

It was probably the first time in memory that Ry hadn’t been glad to get a call from his Commandant . He’d been awake anyway, his body curled against Isla’s slim frame, listening to her steady breathing, enjoying the way every so often she gave a little snore. He’d felt … content. For once in his life, he’d almost been looking forward to the morning after. No almost about it .

He’d been reluctant to wake her up when she was sleeping so soundly, but he hadn’t wanted to leave her apartment door unlocked. He smiled, remembering her dazed expression. Not a morning person . “You’ll be able to go back to sleep?” That wasn’t always easy for him, once he was awake, but Isla had looked at him like he was from another planet.

“I’ll be asleep again in sixty seconds.”

“ After you lock the door, right?”

“Right. After I lock the door.” She’d paused to give an adorable little yawn. “You’ll stay safe?”

Her words had warmed something inside him. And he realized he’d been pressing his luck, but he’d gone ahead anyway, taking advantage of her middle-of-the-night confusion. “Can I call you tonight?” She’d given him her sleepy agreement.

“What the hell are you smiling about, Ry?” Alex grumbled, bringing Ry back to the present. Alex had never been a morning person, less so now that he was living with Yvette. Ry could empathize. If it’d been hard to leave Isla in bed today, what would it have been like if she were his ? The thought gave him pause. He’d slept with many fun, beautiful women, but he’d never—ever—felt this level of possessiveness for any of them.

Though dawn would be breaking soon, right now everything was still dark. Hail pelted the windows of the helicopter. The wind blew loudly around them, every so often slamming right into them, shaking them in their seats like a well-mixed cocktail. Ry relaxed, not worried. He didn’t envy Tristan his job, but if anybody could fly this craft on a dark and stormy night, that was Tristan Devallé.

Their boss, Commandant Beau Fontaine, spoke up from the front of the helicopter, where he was sitting next to Tristan. “The weather is not looking good.” Understatement of the year, but that was Beau for you. “Tristan will drop us all on the path to La Jonction.”

Ry sighed. Sometimes, he wondered what drove people, or if they simply didn’t do enough research. He was as competitive as they came, when it came to outdoor activities, but even he wouldn’t consider climbing La Jonction in the middle of winter. Let alone when a storm was coming.

“Hold on,” Beau continued. “We’ve just received some more details on the missing hikers. Richard and Miles are in their mid-twenties, both British nationals. But they are not here on holiday. They’ve been living in Les Houches for years.”

That was good news. Men in their twenties would likely be in good shape. With the right clothes, an overnight stay in the mountains would be viable, particularly if they were locals, and therefore acclimatized to the altitude.

“Tell me they didn’t come up here with their snowboards,” Hugo grumbled.

“Do they have enough clothes and equipment to spend the night out here?”

Beau shook his head, for the first time betraying his frustration. “We have to assume they don’t. The girlfriend of one of the men was the one who called it in. She didn’t know exactly what the men had packed, but the three of them were supposed to have dinner together in town, so they didn’t expect to be gone long.”

Ry looked out the window. He could see their white, red and green position lights, but not much else. “We are as close as I can get you,” Tristan said from the cockpit. “If you’re going to drop, you need to do so now, before this gets worse.”

“Hugo, Ry, you go first,” Beau began, his words clipped. “Alex and I will follow.”

Ry and Hugo nodded and got into position, clipping themselves into place. Then Beau was there, opening the helicopter door. Hail rushed into the helicopter, assaulting them. Ry’s eyes watered from the cold, and he pulled his goggles down, bringing the neck of his jacket up to protect his chin and mouth. That helped some. Behind him, Hugo swore a blue streak. Only Beau seemed unaffected, even though he was closest to the door. An unmovable object.

When he was ready, Ry gave Beau a thumbs up and walked over to the edge. Beau leaned over, his mouth to Ry’s ear. And even so, it was hard to hear him over the roaring wind and the sound of the rotors. When he spoke, his voice was tight. If there was one thing Beau didn’t like, that was ceding control. “Take it slow and careful, Ry.”

Ry nodded to his commander, then waited for Tristan to give the okay—which he knew the pilot wouldn’t give until he was sure he could hold the craft steady for the required number of seconds. Finally, he got the go-ahead.

Ry didn’t look at the thirty or forty feet between him and the ground below. He paid no attention to the loud noise of the rotors, or the wind or the hail. It was just him and the rope now. A sense of calm exhilaration took over him. This moment, this rush of pure adrenaline soaring through his veins—this was what he lived for.

He took one deep breath to clear his mind, then let muscle memory take over, grabbing onto the thick rope. He remembered his PGHM instructor once telling him fast roping out of a helicopter was like abseiling. Except it wasn’t. Because in abseiling, you were always clipped in. Here, it was just you and the rope, flying through the air.

And it was so fucking fast. One moment Ry could see the colored lights of the craft, then they were gone. He felt the additional tension on the rope once Hugo’s weight went on, and knew that meant he was already twenty feet down. He kept going, readying himself for landing.

When the ground rushed up to meet him, Ry bent his knees to absorb the shock. His boots sank all the way to his shins. Fuck, but the snow was deep here. At least dawn would be breaking soon, so he’d be able to see the snow, and any holes, before he stuck his boots in. Searching in the snow in the dark was a recipe for disaster.

Ry confirmed his safe landing and stepped away from the rope to make space for Hugo, who joined him seconds later. Together, they waited for Alex and Beau to follow, but nothing happened. Eventually, Beau’s voice came through their ear piece—still calm, but not happy.

“Tristan can’t hold our position. He’s taking us to the next peak over, hoping the weather is better there.” That made sense. They could come at the valley from either end. “We will contact you when we’re there. In the meantime, you’re on your own.”

The rope disappeared from view as it was lifted back into the helicopter, and then the craft left. Around them, the wind still blew, but nothing like it had up there. Ry signaled he was taking lead. He saw Hugo look at his watch and knew his friend was checking the time so they could switch in a little while. Plowing through thick snow was hard work.

Ry kept his eyes peeled for any sign of the missing hikers. He didn’t expect to see any footprints in the snow—it’d been snowing too hard for that—but the hikers might have left some marks for them to follow, so he kept a lookout for clothes, piles of rocks, or anything that might be out of place.

An hour later, he had to concede defeat. There was nothing to indicate any other human being had been here recently. He wondered if the men were here at all. The girlfriend remembered them talking about it, but nobody had seen them all day. Ry tripped over the snow and only just managed to get his feet back under him.

“My turn to lead,” Hugo said, stepping up to Ry. He looked fresh as a daisy, and Ry’s competitive nature woke up. He took a sip from his water bottle. Out here, it was easy to get dehydrated. “I can keep going.”

“I know you can,” Hugo said easily. “But it’s my turn now. No reason why you should have all the fun.” Ry barked out a laugh. Hugo was not a man of many words, but he had his own brand of humor.

“If memory serves, we’re heading to the old bridge,” Ry said. He pulled up the image of La Jonction on his phone. Phone coverage was bad up here, but he’d downloaded the images ahead of time. As he looked at the map, he felt a shiver of excitement go through him. It was possible the hikers had never made it to the top of La Jonction, that they’d realized the weather was getting worse and decided to stay put. It was worth checking out.

“They’d better not have tried to cross the bridge,” Hugo said, his voice muffled by the wind. “I don’t think it could hold a chipmunk, let alone a person.”

If memory served, there were signs to that effect on the bridge, as well as colorful red and yellow tape that their sibling PGHM unit had placed there earlier in the season.

“Beau, Alex. We are reaching the old bridge,” Ry said. “No sight of the hikers anywhere near La Jonction, but we’re going to check the bridge.”

“Understood. We are coming in from the opposite side, but we are still ten minutes away. We’ll get visual confirmation from either end and regroup at that point.”

“Have we stopped to think those idiots might be holed up in some bar in town, drinking themselves silly?” Hugo asked.

“Think of the lovely early-morning walk we’re getting,” Ry said, smiling. “And we’re getting paid for it.”

“Not enough,” Hugo grumbled. “Anyway, what’s gotten into you? When did you turn into Little Miss Sunshine?” Ry laughed. He was about to reply when the old bridge came in sight. The words died in his mouth. “Hugo?”

“I see them.”

Two shapes, huddled together. Ry and Hugo took off at a run, all thoughts of tiredness forgotten. This was why they did what they did—because there were times when they could be the difference between life and death.

“Richard? Miles?” Ry asked, reaching the figures first. One of the shapes looked up, and now Ry could see a face. Pale and drawn. But alive.

“I’m Richard,” the man said, speaking slowly, as if even getting those two words out was an effort. Which it probably was, since the man looked half-frozen. He was wearing winter clothing, a thick winter jacket, mittens and a woolly hat, but ice and snow coated his thin mustache. He didn’t seem to notice the way his body trembled.

“We’re with the PGHM,” Ry said. “We’re going to get you out of here. We have emergency blankets in our pack, and will make you as comfortable as we can for the way down.”

Ry had said those words before, and knew different people received them very differently. But he’d never—ever—had someone look at him with such complete lack of interest.

“I could do with a smoke,” Richard said, his voice slurred. A classic symptom of hypothermia.

“Miles?” Ry asked, looking at the second man, who hadn’t yet said a word. “How are you doing?” For the longest time, he remained huddled, his eyes on the abyss in front of him. His winter jacket flapped open to his sides. Ry’s heart beat fast against his chest. He did not want to be moving a corpse out of here.

“Sir?” Hugo asked, his voice more forceful than Ry’s had been.

Finally, the man—presumably Miles—looked back at them, glassy eyes unfocused on his round face. A face that became even rounder when he broke out in an unexpected, jovial laugh. “Friends! You want to join us?”

Ry frowned. The man’s cheeks were red with heat rash. He had to be hypothermic—but he didn’t look it. The way his pupils were dilated, he looked?—

“High,” Hugo whispered, completing the thought. “They’re both drugged out of their minds.”

“Would you move away from the edge, gentlemen?” Ry asked, keeping his voice nice and steady.

“We like it here,” one called out.

“Come join us,” his buddy added, laughing gleefully, as if he’d just made a great joke.

“Yeah, join us here!”

Ry and Hugo exchanged a look. Though there was water below, it was over sixty feet down, and there were plenty of rocks in the way. The chances of a person surviving such a fall were infinitesimal. They had to get them away from the edge. “Please step away from the edge now,” Hugo commanded, coming to stand beside Ry.

“I’ll step away if you give me a cigarette,” Richard said petulantly.

Ry’s head pounded. He prayed for patience. “I have some in my bag back in town,” he lied. “I’ll bring you some as soon as we’re there.”

“Really?” Miles asked, sounding hopeful. “I’d like a cigarette as well.”

“Let’s get back to town and get you some cigarettes, then,” Hugo said. He typed something quickly on his device, no doubt letting Beau and Alex know they had found the missing hikers.

Ry held his breath as the two hikers crawled back from the edge. Hugo’s voice had done the trick. Now that the men were away from the edge, Ry felt marginally better. He kept his eyes on the pair but lowered his voice so the words wouldn’t carry to where the two men sat.

“Those two are in no shape to walk down,” Ry began.

“We’re not carrying them out of here, either. Not on our own.”

“What do you think they’ve taken? The girlfriend didn’t mention any drugs.”

“Maybe she didn’t know.” Hugo shrugged. “Or she thought we wouldn’t come find them if we knew. Anyway, there’s no way they came up here to shoot up, not in this weather. I think it’s something they smoked.”

“Well, they’re toast. We need to find a way to get them out of here.”

“What if we take them across the bridge? Meet up with Alex and Beau on the other side, and get them to the Plateau des Sacres. Tristan should be able to find us there when the weather clears.”

Hugo shook his head. “I already told you. That bridge won’t hold our weight. We’d end up pulverized on the rocks below.”

“Not if we use the cables on top of the bridge,” Ry said.

“Are you crazy?” Hugo said, shaking his head.

“Hear me out. The wood isn’t safe, but the cables are drilled deep into the stone walls. They should be able to hold our weight. We have emergency harnesses. We could strap them in with us, and bring them to the other side.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Or we wait for the weather to clear, until Beau and Alex can get here,” Ry whispered. “And hope they don’t freeze or decide to jump in the meantime.”

As if on cue, the slimmer man—Richard—looked back towards the edge. “Look at the way the water shimmers,” he oohed. Ry stepped forward and eased himself between the two men and the water. Hypothermia was their friend in this case—it would stop the men from making any sudden moves—but, even so, Ry didn’t want to risk it.

“Cigarettes are that way, gentlemen,” he said.

Hugo sighed, coming to join him, his boots spread wide on the ground, ready for anything. “Okay. We’ll do it your way, Ry,” Hugo growled, softly enough that the men wouldn’t hear them.

Ry nodded, but inside, his mind was going a mile a minute. A technical rope rescue of two intoxicated adults was not how he’d been hoping to spend the early morning. His mind thought back to the night before. He could have woken up next to Isla. He could have?—

He forced his mind back to the present and dug in his pack for the equipment they would need. “Gentlemen, we’re going to put these harnesses on.”

“And you’ll give us the cigarettes?” the one called Miles said sluggishly, looking confused. His hands were shaking something fierce, and Ry knew they had to get him off the mountain soon. Before it was too late.

“Of course,” Hugo said easily. Then, in a lower voice, “Call Beau and tell him what we’re going to do.”

Ry snorted. “What kind of friend are you, mate?” Their boss was not going to like this plan at all.

“Tell him it was your idea,” Hugo said, a rare smile crossing his face.

“ W hat are you doing ?” Richard complained nervously.

“Just checking your pulse rate,” Ry explained, though he didn’t think the man was in any shape to understand him. His heart rate was slow, but not half as sluggish as his friend’s. Miles was the one who worried Ry the most.

“How are they doing?” Hugo asked quietly.

“Not good. Even if they’re not feeling the cold, they’re dangerously hypothermic. We need to?—

“We’re ready on this side,” Beau said on the earpiece.

“So are we,” Ry said. “The winch is ready.”

“How are you going to do this? Tell us what to expect.”

Ry and Hugo had discussed this at length after getting the emergency harnesses on the two hikers. Miles was the medical emergency, so Ry would bring him over first. Then Hugo would do the same with Richard.

Hugo had argued he should be the one to bring Miles across, because the man was heavier and getting his weight across the gorge was going to be a bitch, but Ry had been insistent. He was the medic, so he had to stay with Miles.

“I’ll tie Miles in to my harness and pull our way across. Once we’re on the other side, Hugo will come over with Richard.”

Hugo’s jaw was tight, but he didn’t contradict him.

“Okay,” Beau conceded. He paused for an instant. “How are they behaving?”

Ry looked over at the two men, who at the moment were lethargic. Now that they were sitting far from the edge, Ry wasn’t as worried anymore.

“I think the hypothermia is making itself felt now. They’re not giving us any trouble.”

“Good. If they do, abort the operation. We can wait where they are until the weather clears,” Beau said, and though Ry knew it was Beau’s job to say this, and his and Hugo’s job to listen and obey, that didn’t mean he had to like it. Because staying here would be like signing their death sentence. “Understood?” Beau continued harshly.

“Understood,” Hugo said through gritted teeth.

“Understood,” Ry confirmed, running his hand through his hair.

“Good. Then get to it.”

Ry stood up and walked closer to the hikers, noting their hunched, defeated positions. Something icy slammed into his face. Hail? Now, of all times?

“Let’s get this done,” he said.

Hugo grunted, looking even less amused than normal, which was saying a lot.

Ry raised his voice. “Miles. Come with me, please. You and I are going to go over to the other side together.” It was testament to how high the man was that he didn’t bat an eyelid at Ry’s words. Good . Easier this way .

Hugo stayed with them while Ry looped himself into the cable above him, stretching to his full height until he finally got it through. He breathed hard through his nose as doubts assailed him.

Come on, you said it yourself, this cable could hold the weight of ten elephants. It’s been here for decades. It will not break now. Even so, letting go of his foothold was an act of faith. The cable wobbled … and held. Ry hung there for a few instants, willing his heart rate back to normal.

“Glad we’re not going to be picking up bits of your kidneys off the river floor,” Hugo said dryly, his jaw tight.

“I love you too, mate,” Ry laughed, sparing a look down at the water far below. Fuck, but this was a rush. He had the sudden feeling that everything was going to work out. “Okay, Hugo. I’m ready for Miles, if you can?—“

He never got to finish his sentence, because Richard was suddenly on his feet. He darted past Hugo, moving much faster than Ry would have thought possible in his condition. “The water is changing color—“ he babbled. “Look, Miles!” And then, Richard pushed his friend—hard—towards the river. Hugo turned and launched himself forwards, but he was in the wrong place. As was Ry, who had first-fucking-row-seats to the disaster unfolding.

Miles lost his footing, flying towards the abyss below. Ry twisted his body, angling sideways, wrenching hard on his harness, all thoughts of safety forgotten. The cable would hold, or it wouldn’t. He stretched his arm as far as it would go. His hand grazed the back of Miles’s hair, his winter jacket. Too slow. Too late. He wasn’t going to?—

Then Ry’s fingers found the back of Miles’s emergency harness. He curled them into a hook, bracing. And still the pressure caught him by surprise, when the man’s full two hundred pounds hung from his fingers. I got you . Ry’s shoulder wrenched. There was a moment of surprise, and then that instant when the pain overtook everything else. Because fuck, the man was heavy.

“Ry!” Hugo yelled. Ry looked up to see his friend had knocked the other hiker out. Knocked him out and dragged him away from the edge. Good .

Fire shot through his shoulder. Ry forced himself to breathe through the pain. With every second he held on, he could feel the muscles and tendons in his shoulder tearing. But he couldn’t let go. Because his curled fingers were the only thing standing between the man and certain death.

“Ry,” Hugo said, his voice loud but calm, and Ry appreciated the calm when his own brain was in chaos. “If you can swing him towards me, I’ll grab him.” As he spoke, Hugo moved confidently to the edge.

Ry nodded to let his friend know he understood.

He focused all his strength into that single movement—tensing his stomach muscles, pushing through the agony in his shoulder—managing the first swing.

Yes.

One more and he’d be able to reach Hugo. Ry focused all his strength … then felt the man below him move, wriggling like a worm on a hook. No . Please, no . If he kept struggling like this, Ry wasn’t going to be able to hold him.

“Stay still!” he yelled through clenched teeth, his words coming out garbled. “I swear I won’t let you go.” He hoped—prayed—he was telling the truth.

The man stilled, as if suddenly understanding his predicament. But the damage had been done, and they were now sliding in the other direction. Away from Hugo, away from safety, and towards the other side of the bridge.

Far, far away .

No. Fuck, no .

Ry couldn’t hold his position that long.

“ Merde !” Hugo no longer sounded calm. Ry heard him yelling into the ear piece. The thought calmed him. Hugo, Beau and Alex were there. They would figure this out. He just—he just had to hold on .

They began moving faster. Ry knew there was only one reason that would be happening. Beau and Alex were pulling them. Although it went against every instinct he had, Ry leaned his weight in the same direction, forcing them to move faster towards the middle of the bridge.

Not fast enough.

Ry whimpered. Black spots danced in his eyes, and he knew he was moments away from losing consciousness. Time lost all meaning, the seconds morphing into heartbeats. One heartbeat, then another, his heart beating in symphony to the throbbing in his shoulder. Ry bit the inside of his cheek, willing the pain to keep him awake. Just a few heartbeats longer. Then a few more.

Just when he thought he couldn’t hold on, he saw them. Beau and Alex, working hand-in-hand, pulling on the cable with all their considerable strength. Then Beau’s arm reached around him, holding on to the harness beneath Ry’s clenched fingers. He felt the weight lift, but still he couldn’t release, couldn’t force himself to let go of that hold that had become his only grip on reality.

“You can let go, Ry. I’ve got him.”

“Tell me you’ve got Ry,” Hugo croaked on the ear piece.

Ry wanted to answer, to tell his friend that he was alright. He even opened his mouth to do this, but darkness called to him in a way that left him no alternative but to follow.

R y woke to a loud, thick noise. Chuf. Chuf. Like his mother’s blender when she baked a cake. Except louder.

It took him a second to realize he was back in the helicopter. Flat on his back. He struggled to remember anything after the gorge, but it was all a blank. He must have passed out. He turned his head to see Hugo sitting next to him.

“How’re you feeling?” Again, that quiet, reassuring tone, so at odds with Hugo’s usual gruff demeanor. I must be hurt, for him to sound this worried .

“I’m … okay.” His throat felt raw, scratchy. Damn, but he hoped he hadn’t been screaming while unconscious. The pain in his shoulder had cooled from a raging inferno to a burning fire.

“You’re going to be okay,” Hugo said.

“How are the hikers?”

Hugo moved his bulk to let Ry see beyond him, where the two hikers sat against the helicopter wall, their frames wrapped in silvery blankets. “We’ve got both of them.”

“I should see how they’re—“ Ry tried to move and almost passed out again from the pain. “Fuck. I think I dislocated my shoulder.”

“No shit, Sherlock. Let’s hope that’s all it is. We’ve already informed Val, she’s waiting for us at the hospital.”

“Okay.” That was good news. There was nobody he trusted more than Dr. Valentina Carrel, Beau’s fiancée. Suddenly, one of the hikers stood. Ry’s addled mind struggled to remember the man’s name. Miles. Fuck but he was a big man. A big, pissed-off looking man.

“He could have killed me! I want his full name.”

It took Ry a long time to realize the man was talking about him.

I saved your fucking life, after your buddy pushed you off a cliff.

“You’re the police. You need to see these bruises,” the man continued, raising his shirt to reveal red splotches on his hips, where the harness had pulled at him. Those would be black and blue in a few hours.

Ry’s eyesight blurred. Didn’t he realize he would have died if Ry had let go? Hugo stood up, as if getting ready to deck the man. Then Tristan was there, standing between them. “Sit down.”

Again, that petulant tone of voice. “And who are you?”

“I am the pilot,” Tristan said, standing to his full, six-four height. “And we are going nowhere until you sit down. No. Not there. In that corner.” Pointing as far as possible from Ry.

But even after the helicopter took off, Ry could still feel the man glaring at him. Still feel his hatred. Feeling sick, Ry went through the scene in his mind again. And again. There was nothing else he could have done.

“Ignore that fucker,” Hugo bristled.

Then Beau was there as well, his expression thunderous. “What Hugo said.”

“It’s a misunderstanding. His friend pushed him off the cliff,” Ry told his commander. “I stopped his fall the only way I could.”

“Hugo already explained what happened,” Beau told him. “You have nothing to worry about, Ry. Let’s just get you as comfortable as possible. We’ll be at the hospital soon.”

Ry nodded, allowing his exhaustion to take over. It was a simple misunderstanding. He would clear it up as soon as he woke up.