by Vines, Jolie
She typed a reply. “Sorry, buddy. Not today. It’ll have to wait.”
Instant relief flooded me. Across the glen, Isla dragged a stick through the snow, her back to us, so I took a second to grab Caitriona by the waist and kiss her.
Her chilled lips warmed under mine.
Caitriona smiled against my mouth before throwing a glance to Isla and stepping back. “What was that for?”
“Ye put my daughter first. Thank ye.”
“Always.”
Her phone buzzed again in her hand. She glanced at it and grinned. “Ah, they made it. Skye said she’d come down with her kids and also her niece, Florrie. She’s Isla’s age. Plus Skye is good friends with the mother of one of Isla’s school friends.” She chewed her lip. “I was thinking after we bake the cake, we could take it to the castle and have a tea party. Skye will arrange for the other girl to come. Isla might like that. Scarlet will be there, too. I could maybe drop in the fact that she’s not my birth mother. Lay the groundwork.”
Acute happiness and longing constricted my throat. So much, I couldn’t speak for a moment. I held Caitriona’s gaze until I was master of myself again. “Aye. I love the idea.”
She watched me in return, the curiosity in her gaze mixed with something I couldn’t identify.
My mountain rescue phone barked its demanding tone.
Caitriona and I both jerked.
Oh Christ, what timing.
I snapped out of my reverie and took the call. In thirty seconds, my brain had switched gear and adrenaline shot through me.
“I’ve had a call-out,” I uttered.
“No!”
“Isla,” I bellowed. “We’re heading back to the car.”
Caitriona’s smile dropped, and she kept up with my long strides, a hand held out to catch Isla’s. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe this. What’s happened?”
“Climbers trapped on a cliff face. Two women, both sustained injuries when the lead climber fell. One woman managed to reach her phone, and it sounds like they’re half frozen and hanging from their ropes.”
“God.” Caitriona glanced at the weather. We’d taken our walk earlier as there was a storm coming in this afternoon. “Be safe.”
“Always,” I repeated her word then got us on the road.
At the cottages, beyond grateful I had Caitriona to care for Isla, I dropped them off with a request to have a slice of birthday cake saved, then headed out to the hangar. In conditions like this, we’d need a full-service call-out, and people already waited. I’d dispatched Cameron with Max as the advanced party, and rallied a crew of twelve in three cars, climbing and medical evac equipment onboard, the local ambulance service alerted to receive the casualties once we’d gotten them down.
Needing to coordinate, I threw myself into the back of the first 4x4.
The man in the seat next to me was a familiar face. Alasdair was Caitriona’s father, and a helpful on-the-ground member of my crew. He’d taken time to explain to me how he lived with severe dyslexia, which meant map reading and written instruction were an issue. From the crew’s perspective, it only meant awareness for whoever he buddied up with. An excellent memory gave him an advantage, though, and he knew the area and topography to inch-perfect measures.
I often gave full written debriefs to the crew but had met Alasdair once or twice to do it verbally. I liked the man a lot and respected his thoughts. His ready smile and easy manner so reminded me of Caitriona it tripped me up.
I raised my chin at him. “Alasdair, talk to me about the climbing spot.”
“I told ye to call me Ally.” He scratched his bearded cheek, fingertips grazing a deep scar. “Not a typical place you’d find climbers in winter. It’s a long trek to ascend, and the exposed ridge is a fucker for windchill. Today was a bad day to attempt that climb.”
As a rule, we made a point not to judge the people we went out to rescue. People climbed mountains because they were there. On any given weekend, tens of thousands headed to the Scottish hills. It was easy to get lost or injured, and the individuals involved rarely made the same mistake twice. But I couldn’t help give him a wry smile of agreement.
We sped on, crossing a glen before ascending once more. Under the car’s tyres, the snow deepened, and above us, thick clouds settled in. My radio bleeped.
Max’s voice came through the line. “We’re at the base of the climb. It’s fucking freezing up here. Neither of us can see another soul.”
I studied the printed map. “Repeat, ye havenae located the missing party, over?”
“Copy that. There’s no fucker up here but us. We can see the whole of the rock face. It’s empty.”
“Any signs of climbing equipment?”
“Naw. Cameron looked for footprints in the snow and couldnae find one. No ropes, crampons, nothing.”
“Exactly where are ye?”
He relayed their position.
I repeated it to Alasdair and the other occupants of the car. From the initial report, the women should’ve been right above our advanced party.
We joined them, and an hour later reached the same conclusion.
There were no signs of the missing women at all.
“The climbers have their location wrong,” one of the men suggested.
Fuck, which made it a hundred times more difficult for us.
A quick call to base brought a negative for speaking to the women directly. There was no answer to the calls that had been made back to them.
Which only meant one thing.
Our serious but focused rescue was now a hunt, and a race to save lives.
* * *
Hours on, and fresh snow spat at my cheeks, whipped by a vicious December wind. I paced back to the Jeep, mind churning, the gale trying to swipe me off my feet.
From our initial location, I’d pulled Cameron and Max back to work with me and Alasdair, segmented our crew to search parties, and called in additional members. Then we focused on a hit list of likely rock faces to try.
All to no avail.
In another hour, we’d lose the light. The worsening weather had already obscured the landscape, snowdrifts concealing landmarks.
I’d yet to see conditions as bad as this, but I knew the repercussions.
The sheer fact was if we didn’t find the climbers soon, they were at risk of losing their lives, if that hadn’t already happened. A heaviness settled in my heart. People died on the hill. In the RAF, I’d presided over a few recoveries of bodies, and it was a terrible thing.
I slammed myself inside the Jeep at the same moment Alasdair got in the other side. Cameron and Max joined us.
“Fuck. Fuck this wild goose chase.” Max removed his helmet, scattering ice, his gaze dark with annoyance.
I felt it, too, though tried not to show it.
Alasdair sucked in a breath. “Another fail. We’ve ticked off the obvious list of rock faces. What now?”
I shucked off my gloves. “Cameron, check with base to see if there’s any updates.”
He grumbled agreement and got on the radio while I accepted a hot coffee from Alasdair. “We need that nine-nine-nine call.”
Typically by now, someone in my crew would’ve listened to it or read the transcript, but it hadn’t come through yet.
We all took a breather, then my radio blared, the voice requesting my attention. I answered Wasp, the head of my second team.
“Snow’s settled in, a foot or more in the past hour. We have to remove to lower ground before the road becomes impassable, over,” he barked down the line.
“Copy that. Proceed,” I replied without hesitation, my sense of alarm increasing.
The moment any crew member became at significant risk, my priorities shifted. We would fight tooth and nail to rescue a soul, but I had to keep an eye on the safety of the rescue volunteers.
Losing more people was not happening.
A minute later, and another report came in—the third team retreating from the hill.
I okayed the messag
e then dug my still-cold fingers into my hair. “Fuck.”
“We have the recording,” Cameron announced.
All four of us in leaned in to listen.
A strained female voice filled the car. “We need the mountain rescue team. Send them urgently. We were climbing, and my friend fell. She’s hanging from a rope. I think she’s unconscious. Rocks hit my arm, and I can’t move.”
“English,” Alasdair muttered. “I’m trying to pick up her accent.”
The caller continued with the dispatcher requesting the location.
“Coire an Loch. We paddled over the water then hiked here. It was a mistake. We’re exhausted. Please help!”
The caller rang off, and the four of us quietened.
“Give me your thoughts,” I demanded.
“She was instant and specific with the location,” Cameron offered.
“There’s a chance they could’ve descended themselves and not called in.” Alasdair’s voice filled with doubt at his own words.
I twisted my lips. It was reasonably common for a party to find their own way down the hill, but rare that they didn’t call off the search once back to safety.
“It’s a hoax,” Max said slowly.
All three of us twisted to him.
Alasdair, his father, frowned. “Why do ye think that?”
“She said they’d paddled over then hiked. The nearest decent-sized body of water is a two-hour walk away and probably iced over around the banks. The report came in at eleven, aye? No sane person would look at the forecast today, set out before dawn with a canoe, break through ice, then hike to that climb. They would have no route back.”
Wind howled and rocked the car, marking his point.
I worked the idea through my head. Like people saving themselves, hoaxes happened, but I’d never had one in all the months I’d been in charge. From the few previous cases I’d glanced over, dispatch worked it out before anyone was searching. Teenagers were the biggest culprits, and it was always male callers.
“Fuck,” Cameron drawled. “The more I think it through, the more sense that makes. And that explanation works for why Base couldn’t find a single climbing club with members out today. No one else took the risk. How many hikers did we see?”
“A handful at best, and none braving the higher slopes,” Alasdair replied.
Unsettled, I had a decision to make, and no matter who came up with the idea, the responsibility was mine.
If those two women were clinging to a rock face and I abandoned them to their fate, that loss of life was on me. If they were even still alive.
If they even existed.
After a quick request for another crew to check the lake shore, I centred on my men. “Is there any place left to try? Any burning intuition?”
In the driver’s seat, Cameron set the windscreen wipers to clean the snow then peered at the horizon. “None that is any stronger a lead than the place she named. Are ye calling it?”
I had to. There was no specific place to go, no new lead. Nothing to justify exhausting the men in my charge.
At that moment, the storm belted the heavy Jeep with an icy blast. The car shuddered, snow obliterating our view.
“Shite. We need to get out of here,” Cameron muttered. “Call it, Lochinvar.”
Frustration had me gritting my teeth. I had no choice. “Drive us down.”
With the headlights and the powerful overhead floodlights near useless in the white out, Cameron rolled the car along the path of our previous ascent. There was no road here, and no tracks to follow from the fresh snowfall.
I radioed in my decision, getting a relieved rally of replies from the other teams who would return to the hangar.
Slowly, we pressed on until Cameron halted, idling the engine. I raised my gaze to find him staring.
“Our tracks are gone. I cannae see to drive down. This ridge has jagged rocks edging a crevice, but it’s all hidden. If I drive over it, we’ll sink.”
We all ducked to gaze out. The sky and land had merged to one white blur. Snow hit the windscreen faster than the wipers could clear it.
My pulse picked up speed, the guttered adrenaline of the day rekindling. Getting caught out here would mean danger for us all. We had to find a path home. I snatched up my gloves and jammed them on, then grabbed my door handle. “I’ll scout ahead.”
“With ye.” Alasdair clipped his helmet into place and climbed out the other side.
Freezing air sucked the breath from my lungs.
Against the gale, I forced my way to the front of the car. Alasdair rounded to meet me, and we staggered through the snow. The cold ate through my layers of insulation, slicing into the small areas of exposed skin on my face.
“Shite!” I stumbled.
Alasdair caught me, steadying me until I regained my balance. Underfoot, treacherous rocks made poor footing. We’d barely driven fifty metres, yet I couldn’t see our starting place.
There was no chance of finding a path.
“Back to the car,” I bellowed, the breeze snatching my words.
Alasdair nodded and, clutching each other, we turned to the bright lights of the Jeep.
We closed in, stumbling. There, Max waited outside, silhouetted by the spotlights.
The force of the weather knocked me down. At my side, Alasdair dropped into the snow with a shout.
“Careful, Da.” Max lurched forwards.
The bank he stood on slid under his feet. A hole opened up in the hillside, devouring the snow. And the man.
In the blink of an eye, Max vanished.
“Fuck!” I bellowed.
Alasdair rose like a man possessed and charged through the snow.
I kept up. Ice pellets clattered against our helmets. Ahead, Cameron clambered from the Jeep.
We inched over to the place Max had disappeared. Cameron had been correct—the crevice he’d worried about was right below us. Though on more solid rock, the Jeep balanced just feet from the edge.
We could all have gone over.
Instead, that fate had fallen to just one.
Alasdair leaned, an arm back for me to brace him. He peered over.
“I see him. Max, I’m coming. Dinna move,” he yelled then turned to me. “I’m going to climb down.”
“Hold,” I blared. “Rig up.”
He stalled and raised his head, resistance in the set of his jaw. I understood—if it was Isla, I’d have dived headfirst after her. I also got how close these men were, not just the immediate family members, but the whole crew would walk through fire for the others.
But we’d gone from being caught on the hill to needing a technical rescue. I had to keep a steady hand.
Cameron landed by my side, and I jerked into action.
“Max, Max, report in, over,” I snapped into the radio.
“Aye, alive. Naw injured.”
His response settled a small part of my fear.
“Can ye get into a harness so we can haul ye up?” I asked.
A pause came. The howl of the wind had us leaning in to the radio.
“I’m a wee bit injured.”
“Fuck. I’m going down.” Cameron opened his rucksack, extracting a harness and ropes. “Dinna argue. I’m more agile than both of ye. Set me up.”
I radioed in the incident while a stone-faced Alasdair helped Cameron with his harness. The response from base, though expected, chilled me.
I’d sent the other teams off the hill because of the storm. No one was near to offer assistance with our extraction.
We were on our own.
In short order, I checked the Jeep’s stability then approved the use of the winch. No matter how strong Cameron was, we’d need the pulling power to get both men out of the hole.
Then the young team leader lowered himself into the gaping crevice.
He slipped out of sight, easing himself down. Max’s da guided him, his gaze feverish, attention stuck. I watched the winch, waiting for the call that Cameron had reached his
target.
After what felt like an age, my radio barked.
“Clear, over.”
I stopped the ropes and waited. Around us, the temperature plummeted, the weather only worsening. Several minutes on, Cameron’s voice came back in.
“Coming up. Go slow. Max’s arm’s probably broken, over.”
At the edge, Alasdair clenched his fists, obviously distraught.
“Easy now,” I murmured to him, not that he could hear me, then I activated the winch.
By tiny winds of the cable, Max appeared in sight. His da helped him over then heaved him clear. The younger man clutched his left arm, his gait unsteady. He lowered himself to the floor and, as carefully as possible, we unclipped him then went back for Cameron.
The second lift went easier, and twenty minutes after the accident had happened, all four of us were back on solid ground.
With Alasdair supporting Max, we packed up and returned to the Jeep.
Inside, tremors rattled my bones. “Good work, everyone. Max, talk to me.”
His da removed Max’s helmet, examining his face.
“I’m fine. Arm’s fucked. Cannae lift it.”
With his expression tight in pain I knew he wouldn’t admit, he gazed at each of us, and I saw the gratitude, felt it to my bones.
“We’ll get ye fixed up. Here.” I issued painkillers to the lad.
He swallowed them and closed his eyes.
We all took a long, deep breath.
After a minute, I regained command of my senses, working out what the fuck to do next. “Cameron, how much petrol do we have left?”
“Third of a tank.”
We’d need every drop to stay warm. Already, the car had iced in. “Keep the engine on. We’ll run it for bursts every hour to stay warm, and us three can take turns to clear the exhaust of snow. We’ll wait it out until there’s a gap in the storm.”
“Not to be the prophet of doom, but this is forecast to get worse. Even when it eases, we still won’t be able to drive down,” Max pointed out.
He was right. “We won’t. But once we can stand upright outside, we can find a flat patch of ground and set off the flares.”
All three men stilled, understanding the implications.
There was no way we could get off this mountain under our own steam.