“You’d put it together sooner or later. I truly am sorry, but in times like these, sacrifices have to be made. Our Cause is far too important to risk letting you go.”
Oh, God…
“Kill her and make it quick,” he said to Fowler. “Have your men dispose of both bodies and make sure they clean up inside.”
“Whatever you say. You’re calling the shots.” For now, Fowler’s tone implied. “For the Cause!” he shouted in triumph.
“For the Cause,” the disembodied voice agreed.
Fowler lifted his weapon, but in the split second before he pulled the trigger, the ground gave way beneath Kaitlyn’s feet. Loosened by all the rain, the edge of the canyon broke free and slid downward, carrying Kaitlyn with it.
She screamed as the bullet whizzed past her cheek, and then she plunged backward into nothing but darkness.
Chapter Two
Wednesday, 1600 hours
The storm had let up overnight and the early part of Wednesday morning, but as the afternoon slipped away, a new front moved in, bringing rain bands that slammed across the JetRanger’s path. Cruising at an altitude of three hundred feet beneath heavy cloud cover, the chopper rose and fell like a roller coaster as wind gusts of up to twenty-five knots batted it to and fro.
No problem, Aidan Campbell thought as he kept his eyes pealed out the window for the missing woman. The JetRanger III was a reliable machine, and the pilot, Jacob Powell, had nearly twenty years of experience under his belt. Plus, he was trained to fly in thirty-knot and above winds. Aidan had seen the guy navigate through near-hurricane conditions—and while they were taking heavy fire, to boot. Comparatively speaking, this search-and-rescue mission was a piece of cake.
The request for assistance by the county sheriff’s office had come into Big Sky Bounty Hunters headquarters at approximately 1300 hours, and Cameron Murphy had immediately notified his teams—already in the field searching for the escaped prisoners—to be on the lookout for a Ponderosa woman whose abandoned and submerged vehicle had been spotted on Route 9. Presumably, she’d taken to high ground during the storm, but the fact that she hadn’t been heard from in over twenty-four hours didn’t bode well for her safety.
Aidan and Powell had started their search in the area where her vehicle had been seen and then gradually widened the perimeter. It was like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. Their only hope was that the woman would somehow be able to signal them when—and if—she heard the engine.
To fight off the strong headwinds, Powell swerved the chopper’s nose and tail back and forth like a scampering sand crab. The maneuver helped, but the altimeter was still going crazy. Nausea tugged at Aidan’s stomach as he lifted the binoculars and scanned the scenery below them. They’d flown out of the heavy rain, but visibility was still poor and they were losing the light. He could make out little more than the treetops.
Flying at low altitudes in mountainous terrain was dangerous under the best of conditions, but in bad weather, it was a particular dicey operation. But Aidan knew there was no turning back, for him or for Powell, until they absolutely had to. If the woman was still alive, she might not survive another night in the wilderness.
Aidan didn’t say it aloud, but for the past half hour or so, he’d been plagued by the nagging worry that despite their best efforts, they might come up short this time. SAR operations didn’t always have happy endings. He knew that better than anyone.
His headset sputtered to life.
“See anything?” Powell asked him.
He shook his head. “Negative.”
“Damn.” The frustration in Powell’s voice mirrored Aidan’s concern. Darkness was falling and they were rapidly reaching the point at which the helicopter wouldn’t have enough fuel to return to base. A decision would soon have to be made.
He glanced at Powell. “What do you think?”
Powell’s mouth was set in a grim line. “One more circle and then we’ll have to head in.” He turned south, putting the wind at their tail and the JetRanger sprinted forward.
As they passed over a gorge cut deep into the side of the mountain, Aidan pointed out the window. “I’ve been rock climbing in that canyon. It’s at least a hundred-foot drop to the floor.”
Powell shrugged. “Devil’s Canyon. What of it?”
“If memory serves, there’s an old hunting lodge around here somewhere…yeah, just through that break in the trees. See it? It’s a long shot, but she could be holed up inside, waiting for the weather to clear.”
“I doubt she would have made it up this far, but hold on,” Powell said. “We’ll drop down and see if we spot movement.”
As he swung around, something twinkled in the deep recesses of the canyon, drawing Aidan’s attention. He watched for a moment, thinking it might have been his imagination, but then it came again. A flicker of light.
Couldn’t be a campfire in the rain…
“Did you see that?” Aidan pointed excitedly toward the canyon. “I saw a light down there.”
Powell executed a one-eighty spin, turning his nose straight into the headwind. The helicopter shuddered, as if a giant hand had smacked it across the hull.
The rim of the canyon was nothing but rocks and marshy ground. If they set down, the chopper was likely to sink in the mud and they’d never get it out. Landing on the floor of the narrow ravine was not an option, either, and a rescue party could take hours to get there.
The light kept blinking. It might have been Aidan’s imagination, but the signal seemed more rapid now. More desperate.
“I’ll go down and have a look,” he shouted into the mouthpiece.
“Too windy,” Powell responded. “You’ll get hammered on the rocks before you’ve gone ten feet.”
“Not if you get low enough. The canyon will act as a buffer.”
Powell cut him a look. “You like to live dangerously, don’t you, Campbell?”
He shrugged. “Is there any other way?”
Powell grinned and grabbed the joystick with both hands as he took the chopper down and tried to establish zero airspeed. After several minutes of bucking and pitching, the helicopter was finally situated over the mouth of the canyon.
Throwing off his headset, Aidan climbed into the back and fastened his harness. The JetRanger was specially fitted with an electric hoist that could be operated by the pilot, but until they knew the situation below, a quick insertion into the canyon was the safest bet.
Slipping his radio into his shoulder holster, Aidan opened the jump door to a blast of wind and rain. Balancing himself in the doorway, he threw down a rope and, then snapping his figure eight onto the cable, fast-roped down into the canyon.
Rappelling was the easy part. The canyon walls shielded him from the wind, but the moment he spotted the woman lying on a ledge about fifty feet down, Aidan knew they were in trouble.
She didn’t appear to be conscious, although he knew she had to be on some level in order to have sent the signal. She lay beneath a narrow outcrop of rock that wouldn’t have offered much in the way of protection from the storm. Her clothing was in tatters, her face covered in mud, and her hand, where she gripped the flashlight, was raw and bleeding. She must have tried to grab on to anything she could find to halt her momentum as she fell.
Aidan glanced up, his attention scaling the canyon wall. How she’d managed to survive a fall from that distance was a mystery. And a real testament to her will to survive.
Maneuvering over to the ledge, he unclipped from the rope and quickly knelt beside her. She opened her eyes when he touched her, and by the look of terror on her face, would have screamed if she’d had the energy. Instead, she tried to huddle even deeper into the overhang.
“It’s all right,” Aidan said to her over the rain. “I’m here to help you.”
When she didn’t respond, he said gently, “I’m not going to hurt you. But I have to find out how badly you’re injured before I can get you out of here. Can you move?”
“Good. Excellent.” He eyed her carefully. “Can you stand?”
“I…don’t know.” Her voice was barely a whisper, and she sounded so frightened and hopeless that it made Aidan want to wrap his arms around her right then and there. She was small, only about five-four or so, and he doubted she weighed much more than a hundred pounds soaking wet. Her hair was matted with mud, but he thought she was a blonde. Her eyes were dark blue and very intense.
He had the impression that she was an attractive woman, but he could see very little of her features through the mud and grime. Not that it mattered. Getting her out of the canyon and to a hospital was his only concern at the moment.
She tried to stand but couldn’t quite manage it even when he helped her. Her knees collapsed and he eased her back onto the ledge.
“Okay, no problem. We’ll do this another way.”
He turned and said into the radio, “Powell? I’ve got the woman, but she’s in pretty bad shape. I’m going to get her into a harness, and then you’ll have to hoist us out.”
“Copy that. Make it quick, Campbell. If we get caught in a down draft, we’re all dead meat.”
As quickly as he could, Aidan slipped leg rings over the woman’s thighs and tightened the harness belt around her waist. Grabbing the cable, he used another figure eight to fasten her harness to his, then he radioed Powell.
“All set! Take us up!” To the woman, he said, “Put your arms around my neck. Don’t worry. I’ve done this before,” he assured her when they lifted off the ground and she gasped.
The first moment of dangling in midair was always the worst. “Don’t look down,” he advised.
To answer, she tightened her arms around his neck.
He could feel her muscles tense even beneath her layers of clothing. She was very light in his arms, but he had a feeling she was a lot stronger that she looked. She would have to be, to survive what she’d been through.
They were about thirty feet from the mouth of the canyon when a gust of wind buffeted the chopper, knocking it forward. The hoist cable shrieked and went taut as it lashed against the JetRanger’s hull.
The woman screamed. The hoist moaned. And Aidan swore.
“It’s okay!” he yelled above the roar of the blades. “I’ve got you! Just hold on tight!”
Overhead, Powell forced down the helicopter’s nose to stabilize the aircraft, but the maneuver caused the cable to swing away from the hull, and all of a sudden, Aidan saw the wall of the canyon rushing to meet them.
He tried to twist around so that he would take the brunt of the collision. His left shoulder smashed into the rock, and as pain shot down his arm, he momentarily released his hold on the woman and they were jerked apart by the impact.
To Aidan’s horror, he heard the figure eight snap, and the woman screamed again as she began to slip free. For a moment, her arms clutched at him wildly, and then Aidan grabbed her. As their eyes met, he recognized the terror in her eyes. He’d seen it before, in another woman’s eyes, a split second before she slipped from his fingers and fell to her death.
He blinked, willing away the memory as he clung to the woman’s arm. Elena had struggled blindly in her terror. She’d twisted and flailed and begged him not to let her fall.
“I don’t want to die. Please, Aidan…”
That same plea was in this woman’s eyes, but amazingly, she didn’t panic, which would have made Aidan’s job that much more difficult. When he shouted for her to grab his other hand, she had the presence of mind to do exactly that.
“Just hold on, okay?”
She nodded, her focus never leaving his.
They dangled over the canyon for what seemed an eternity, but she never once lost her cool. She had to be in pain, not just from the fall, but from the way he clutched her arm. She didn’t so much as flinch.
When they were finally hoisted up to the chopper, Aidan hauled her onto the ski and then boosted her through the jump door. Only then did he breathe a sigh of relief.
He climbed in behind her, slid the door closed and turned. She’d collapsed on the floor and gone into convulsions. Throwing off the harness, he knelt beside her.
“Get us out of here!” he shouted up to Powell.
“I’d love to do just that,” Powell shouted back. “Unfortunately, we’ve got a little problem.”
They were trapped in a wind shear that kept dragging the helicopter downward. As the tail slewed about, it came dangerously close to the wall.
“Come on,” Aidan said under his breath. “Come on!”
Powell practically yanked the joystick out of the floor to give them lift power. For a moment, he was forced to ride the wind backward, getting closer and closer to the wall until he could maneuver the chopper around and fly with a tailwind out of the canyon.
While Powell battled the wind, Aidan cut off the woman’s wet clothing. Beneath all those soggy layers, her skin was like ice. He rubbed her arms and legs, trying to create enough friction to warm her up.
Rousing, she clung to him for a moment, as if she didn’t yet realize that she was safe.
“You’ll be okay,” he assured her. “We just have to get you warmed up.”
“Don’t let me go,” she whispered.
“I won’t. I promise.”
She was tiny, but surprisingly curvy, and her muscles were rock hard. At the moment, though, Aidan was more interested in the temperature of her body than in its shape.
“F-freezing,” she gasped.
When he had her clothes off, he wrapped her in a blanket, then pulled her into his arms and held her close to his own warm body. She still couldn’t stop shaking.
“Is she going to be okay?” Powell shouted.
She’d better be, Aidan thought grimly as he held her tight. He couldn’t afford to lose another one.
Chapter Three
Thursday, 0900 hours
Kaitlyn came awake with a start. She’d been dreaming that she was falling, and she gasped as she tried to sit up. A firm hand on her shoulder pressed her back down.
“Try to take it easy.”
That voice! Kaitlyn knew it.
She couldn’t place it, but she knew it…
The dream was still so fresh in her mind that she almost expected to feel wind rush past her face as she fell, but instead, she was lying perfectly still in a nice, warm bed.
A hospital bed, to be exact.
Someone had brought her to Ponderosa Memorial, but she only had a vague recollection of being rushed into the E.R. Of bright lights burning into her eyes. Of urgent yet somehow soothing voices speaking to her and above her. She’d been examined and x-rayed…all of which had passed in a blur of pain and confusion.
She was still a little out of it, but not as disoriented as she’d been then. Maybe it was the pain that had snapped her out of the haze. She suddenly felt as if every bone in her body had been crushed. But she knew that wasn’t the case. She was going to be fine. Someone had told her that.
She glanced up at the man whose hand was still her on her shoulder. He had dark eyes and an even darker expression.
“I know you,” she blurted.
Something flickered in those dark eyes. “I hope so. We went to high school together. I’d be very disappointed if you didn’t remember me.”
Frowning, she continued to stare up at him until the lightbulb went on. “Phillip? Phillip Becker?”
His lips tilted slightly, but Kaitlyn had a feeling that for him the gesture was significant. Although she hadn’t seen him in years, the few faint memories she had of Phillip Becker were of a somber, overstudious young man who rarely cracked a smile.
“What are you doing here?” she asked in confusion.
“I’m a doctor. I’ve been on staff here at Memorial for a couple of weeks.”
Why hadn’t she known about that? Word usually traveled fast in such a small town.
“What time is it
?” she asked.
“A little after nine.”
She glanced at the window. “But…it’s daylight.”
“Nine in the morning,” he clarified. “You’ve been here all night.”
“I have?”
“You don’t remember being awakened every two hours? The nurses said you were responsive.”
She had a vague recollection, Kaitlyn realized. She frowned as she tried to think back.
Dr. Becker took a light from his lab-coat pocket and bent to check the dilation of her pupils. Next, he held his finger in front of her face and moved it slowly back and forth. “Try to follow my finger,” he instructed. When Kaitlyn did as she was told, he nodded. “Very good.”
Very good. Evidently, she’d passed some kind of test. Yea for her. “How did I get here? I mean, I know how I got here. Someone brought me in, right? But I don’t know…I can’t seem to remember all the details.”
“Two men brought you down the mountain in a chopper,” he said absently as he glanced at her chart.
“A chopper?”
“A helicopter.”
Kaitlyn wasn’t confused by the term. She knew what he meant. But the word had conjured up an image that left her even more confused. A deep voice commanding her to hold on tight. Blue eyes staring deeply into hers as he ran his hands over her body. “We just have to get you warmed up.”
Who was he? she wondered. Where was he?
“I can’t seem to remember a lot of things,” she realized on a note of panic. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing that a little rest won’t take care of,” Dr. Becker assured her. “You have a mild concussion. That explains the disorientation and the memory loss. Short-term amnesia is fairly common with head injuries.”
“What? I have a head injury?” Even more alarmed, Kaitlyn lifted her hand to her head and winced when she felt a bump the size of a goose egg near her right temple.
“Try not to worry. Your MRI and CT look fine. Other than a little soreness, you should be as good as new in a couple of days.”
Relieved, Kaitlyn stared up at the ceiling. “Will I get my memory back?”
Going to Extremes Page 3