Cold Pursuit
Page 21
Alex heard a snowmobile powering up the hill in the scrub just east of him. The fool was likely going to destroy any hope he had of continuing to track the killer. He stepped out from behind the tree to wave the guy down, but he kept coming. In fact, he accelerated.
Not just one person. A trio on a big touring machine. No helmets. Not even for the kid. Irresponsible. The driver kept the throttle pressed as if fleeing a foe. Fools. This place was meant to be enjoyed, not raced through. And the snow was too deep for this speed.
The driver barreled straight at him. They got closer. What in the world?
It was Whitney driving. Isaiah in back.
A strange man.
“Alex!” Isaiah screamed. “Help us.”
The man clamped his hand over Isaiah’s mouth and poked a gun to Whitney’s head. A 3-D printed gun.
The killer.
No. No. No. The killer had her. Had Isaiah. Alex had failed them.
He reached for his gun in his jacket pocket, but knew if he drew it, the guy would kill her. He held up his hands and backed off. Stood helplessly by as they pulled even with him, flinging up snow.
Whitney met his gaze for a moment. Looking helpless. Terrified. Isaiah crying. The man glaring.
Alex wanted to hurl himself at the sled, but he’d taken off his snowshoes, and the snow was up to his thighs. He couldn’t move fast enough.
He couldn’t let them disappear though.
Think. Think.
He had to track them somehow. He had to get back to the lodge and hope Gage and Riley were on their way back. Then hope they could spot the snowmobile in the heavy woods.
He needed something else. He frantically searched around him. Saw his bag. GPS dart.
He dove for the bag. Ripped off his gloves and tore it open to find the portable GPS dart system. Police used a similar system mounted in the front of their cars to fire a GPS dart that stuck to a vehicle so they could track it and not have to engage in high-speed chases.
Eryn had modified one for their use, and he’d brought it along mostly because he thought it was cool and had been hoping for a chance to use it. But not like this. Not because Whitney and Isaiah were being whisked away by a killer.
He armed the device. Held it out. Fired. The projectile launched. Attached to the back of the snowmobile seat.
He watched to see if the man felt the impact, but he showed no indication that he was going to rip it free.
Alex could hardly fathom turning away and heading down the hill when Whitney was being hurled in the opposite direction, but her life depended on him making record time down that hill. He would cross over to the nearest ski run and hopefully find someone whose skis he could commandeer. If not, it would still be faster heading down that trail than in the navigating the rough. Time was of the essence—not a moment to waste.
23
Whitney wished she’d been able to stop by Alex. But all she could do was toss him a panicked look and make sure she didn’t hit him. Since then, they’d climbed higher and higher, and now her thumb cramped. She couldn’t hold the throttle any longer.
She released it and the machine slowed and sank into the deep powder. She shifted to look back at Ibson and patted Isaiah’s hand.
“Love you, bud,” she said.
“What are you doing?” Ibson roared.
“My hand’s cramping, and I can’t hold the lever.” She hoped he would take over driving, giving her the chance to escape with Isaiah.
“Switch the lever to a finger throttle.” He reached around her and twisted the lever, bringing it up and allowing her to control it with her fingers not her thumb.
“I don’t know,” she said trying to buy time. “I’m still not sure my hand will cooperate. Can I rest it for just a minute?”
“Sure, you can rest. For more than a minute if you want.” He lifted the gun and aimed at her head.
She cringed.
“Drive, Aunt Whitney!” Isaiah screamed.
“Okay, buddy.” She gripped the throttle. The snowmobile jolted forward, whisking them through the snow, climbing higher and higher. Away from Alex. From help.
Alex noted the location of the GPS dart on his phone then shoved it into his pocket. Whitney and Isaiah were nearing the pass that would take them out of the area, potentially making it harder to free them. He scanned the sky for the helo and found only fluffy white clouds on a vibrant blue backdrop. He wished the helo was sitting in front of him, but at least the team was only a few minutes out on their return trip.
The minute Alex had reached the resort, he’d made a frantic phone call to Gage, who grabbed Nate. The three of them made a plan. Now they needed to execute it. But first their ride had to arrive.
“C’mon, c’mon. Get here already.” He paced over the packed snow near the landing zone, his gut twisted in a ball of agony.
“We’ll get to them.” Nate stood alert and ready by the supplies he’d helped Alex collect.
“But we have no idea if we’ll be on time. We don’t know who has them or why. They might not even be on the snowmobile anymore. What if he…” No, he couldn’t say it. Shouldn’t even be thinking it. But a killer had them and hadn’t hidden his face. He surely planned to finish what he’d started.
“They’re here.” Nate pointed at the sky.
Alex cocked his head. Listened for the whomp, whomp, whomp of the rotors.
Yes! He heard it, and the helo swooped over the mountain in the distance. He would soon be airborne with Nate and the team—Gage, Coop, Eryn, Sam, and Riley. They would all go after Whitney and Isaiah. Free them. They’d take the killer down, whoever he was. At this moment, Alex didn’t even care. Sure, he was curious, but his burning need to save the woman he loved trumped that.
Loved. Yeah, he’d fallen in love with Whitney. How could he not? She was sweet. Kind. Compassionate. Beautiful. Everything he’d longed for in a woman in the moments he’d let himself dream that he could have someone in his life. And now she was in danger.
The helo’s rotors rumbled louder as it appeared over the ridge. Alex picked up his equipment tote bag and made ready to hand it to whoever opened the door. Nate grabbed skis and poles, his stance solid and ready.
The helo hovered overhead and swirling snow-filled wind from the rotors buffeted them. Alex planted his feet and lowered his head, keeping his eyes fixed on the spot where Coop would touch down.
One bounce and they were down. Alex was at the door before Gage had it open.
He pounded on it. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon. We need to move.”
“Cool it,” Nate said from behind. “Or you’re no good to them.”
Alex knew that in his head, but he couldn’t lose Whitney or Isaiah. He couldn’t survive that.
The door slid open. He handed off the bag and bolted for the other supplies. He heard Nate talking to Gage about their plan, about his role as a law enforcement officer, and how they had to handle things by the book.
Forget the book. Alex would do whatever was needed to save Whitney.
Sam jogged across the lot and helped finished loading supplies. They all boarded, and Coop soon had them whirling up into the sky.
Alex quickly put his headset on and ran his gaze over the team. “Let’s review the plan.”
Eryn frowned. “Are you sure Whitney’s abductor is heading for the nearest pass?”
“Sure? No,” Alex replied, as he wasn’t sure of anything right now except for his feelings for Whitney and the fear that was churning in his gut. He got out his phone and tapped the screen until he had the GPS tracking program up. “They’re still heading due north. At their current speed they’ll reach the pass in thirty minutes, but we’re good on time.”
“And you’re positive you didn’t recognize him?” Gage asked.
Alex rested his phone on his knee, keeping his eye on Whitney and Isaiah’s symbol, and thought back to the brief moments he’d seen the guy. “Positive.”
“Then his motive is unclear,” Eryn said.
“Could be an important distinction,” Coop said over the headset from the pilot seat. “The first says he may let them go. The second says, no way.”
“He didn’t hide his face. Says he’s not letting them go either way.” Nate’s tone was grim.
Alex suspected this was the tone he used when notifying next of kin that they’d lost a loved one. Acid roiled in Alex’s gut, swirling and rising up his throat. He swallowed hard.
Details. Stick to details. “Okay, so Coop’s taking a circuitous route to keep from alerting the abductor. He’ll put us down well north of pass. We’ll ski downhill. Set up an ambush.”
Alex made eye contact with Riley. “You’ll take a stand with a clear shot at the pass. When I signal, you’ll take out the snowmobile engine, leaving them as sitting ducks. You have the correct ammo, right?”
“The .50 BMG.” He lifted his rifle laying across his lap and patted his Kevlar vest pocket where Alex had to assume extra armor-piercing bullets were stored for his rifle. Though he wouldn’t need them. Alex was sure of that. Riley aimed with deadly accuracy, and he would nail the engine with his first shot.
“So, he takes out the machine,” Nate said. “Then we have an unpredictable hostage taker in panic mode. That’s the time I’m concerned about. We have to play it by the book. If this guy is our killer—and it’s looking like he is—we don’t want him to walk over some technicality.”
Sam sat forward. “I think we all agree with that, but saving Whitney’s and Isaiah’s lives are priority.”
“True. But we can’t get caught up in the moment and not think.” Nate locked gazes with Alex, singling him out.
And well he should. Alex was the loose cannon here. The one with the most to lose.
Nate swung his gaze to Riley. “We’ve already agreed that a sniper shot isn’t our best option, but I want to confirm that you’re on board with that and will take direction from me.”
“Affirmative,” Riley said. “Not only is taking a life a last resort in all cases, but we want to spare Whitney and Isaiah from such trauma.”
“So we set up for an ambush,” Alex took over again. “Take a moment. Assess the landscape and then I call an audible. Either we’ll swarm them as a group or I’ll take a more subtle approach. Negotiate if we have to, but for me, that’s our last resort. In my military career, I’ve never seen a negotiation end well.”
“Not my experience at all.” Gage firmed his shoulders. “If it comes to that, I’ll take lead. I’ve handled plenty of standoffs for Blackwell and come out on top.”
Alex knew he spoke the truth, but then, Gage wasn’t in love with the hostage in those situations.
“Forget your past. Think about my successful negotiation instead. I mean, I’m freaking awesome at it.” Gage grinned.
Alex thought smiling was beyond him, but Gage never bragged and rarely joked, so Alex chuckled.
“Better take it down a notch,” Eryn said, her voice deadpan and her gaze locked on Gage. “Or that head’s not going to fit through the door.”
Laughter broke out, removing some of the tension. That was Gage’s intent, Alex knew, but he didn’t want them to lose their intensity.
“Nate has lead on calling a sniper shot, but I’ll be handling other assignments. Is everyone clear on the plan?” Alex ran his gaze over the group, pausing for a nod of acknowledgement from each person.
“Then we’re a go.” Satisfied that they were ready, Alex nodded and sat back to pray. Because no matter Gage’s confidence level, hostage rescues could go sideways in a flash and people died. Alex always took the time to pray before an op to settle his nerves, but he needed God’s comfort even more today.
He looked over the rugged terrain below, far away from the groomed slopes. He was scheduled to ski this area because McCray had a heli-ski tour scheduled. Sam would have sat that out as she wasn’t the hard-core thrill seeker. Alex had loads of back-country experience and knew how dangerous heli-skiing could be. That’s what he liked about it. Man versus the wild.
Helo pilots flew skiers and guides up to extreme skiing areas, dropped them off, and then picked them up lower on the slope. Because the terrain was rough and challenging, it was generally reserved for experienced, super-fit athletes. The others on the team were fit and could ski but weren’t as proficient as Alex. Today would be a challenge for them, but they would rise to it.
They always did. Always.
Remember that.
He closed his eyes. Visualized the op. Prayed about everything that could go wrong, and then left it in God’s hands. At least he hoped he’d left it there. He knew from the past that he could pray all he wanted and make a decision about how he would act. Trust God or not trust Him. But it was in the doing that his decision and faith were tested. Not in the planning. Not in the prepping. But in the living of life.
For the most part he’d done well with it in the day-to-day struggles. The doing of his job. The keeping of his personal life on an even keel.
But in the bigger things. Nah, there he’d failed big time.
Case in point—the huge mountain God dropped in his path, blocking Alex’s future with a wife and family. No pass in sight as a way out. Okay, maybe God didn’t make the mountain. Alex did by the way he reacted to his losing his mother. Once an eleven-year-old lost and stuck behind a mountain of pain and hurt. Now a thirty-four-year-old still stuck there. He loved Whitney, but could he finally man up in his life so he could do something about it?
He glanced at the GPS. She was now twenty or so minutes out. Once they got to the pass, her abductor could ditch her. Kill her. Leaving Alex alone. And he could do nothing except pray.
He could lose her. He really could. He knew what that was like. The pain. The lifelong questioning. An intense ache spread through his body, weakening his limbs.
“Swinging into the landing zone,” Coop announced.
Alex cleared his mind and came alert. Adrenaline pumping. All senses firing. He felt like he could see clearly for the first time in a long time.
Here he was thinking the blizzard had been an obstacle from God to disrupt his life and get his attention. It was, but it also was a blessing in keeping him with Whitney, and he now knew what he had to do.
He looked at his team gearing up, game faces on. Ready to rock and roll. To do what they did best—save lives.
24
Whitney didn’t know how far it was to the pass, but they were summiting the mountain and it had to be coming up. Soon they would stop. Then what? What did Ibson plan to do with them? How did he plan to kill them?
The finality of their situation settled into her heart.
Father. Please. There’s still time. Please intervene. Not for me, but for Isaiah. He’s just a child. A boy. Save him. No matter what happens to me, save him.
She relaxed the throttle a notch, hoping to delay their approach, and hoping Ibson wouldn’t notice the slight decrease in speed.
She held her breath. Waited for him to jab her in the back.
Nothing. No recognition at all. A small victory, but she’d take it and hope it gave Alex more time to come for them.
Was he coming? Surely he would, but how? He couldn’t catch up to the snowmobile. The helicopter might be an option if it had been on site, but they’d taken Vose and the ME away, and Whitney hadn’t heard them return. So that seemed out of the question, too.
She could easily visualize Alex pacing at the resort. Feeling as helpless as she was. She suspected he would call the helicopter back, if he could even communicate with Gage, but if so, how long would that take? Would it be in time to save them from Ibson?
Please. I can’t do anything for Isaiah. We’re at your mercy. Please let them help us. Please.
Alex swooshed down the slope, laying down the first
tracks on pristine snow, an adrenaline rush like no other. His rifle and pack were on his back as he glided over downy-soft pillows and moguls to lead the others to the pass. The powder was perfect. Untouched. His heart pumped hard just as he liked it. The brisk temperature was modified by the radiating sun.
His ski suddenly caught an edge, and he fought to keep himself upright. He needed focus. To concentrate. If he was alone, he would schuss down the hill. No turns. Just maximum speed to reach their location faster, but he had to think of everyone’s skiing abilities and bring them all safely to their target.
Alex glanced ahead, searching for the snowmobile so they could take cover if it approached. If he’d mistimed things and the snowmobile was closer than he thought, he hoped they were at least blending into the terrain. He usually wore bright-colored ski clothing for recreational skiing, but he and Sam were undercover and didn’t want to stand out for McCray, so they’d worn white suits Gage had recently purchased.
Alex didn’t know how Gage managed it, but he’d bought the new gear recently adopted by the US Army. The clothing was all white and the skis were shorter and wider, built more like cross-country skis rather than downhill skis. They could be used for both types of skiing and easily strapped onto their cold weather boots making them able to quickly maneuver. Nate was the only one who wore any color.
At the location he thought best for Riley to take a stand, Alex turned up slope and used a swift hockey stop. He lifted his goggles to assess the area. Now that he could see the pass and topography, he could finalize their plan.
Riley swung into place next to him, pulling out his scope and surveying the area. “This will work just fine.”
“Thought so,” Alex said. “I’ll give you the authorization to take out the snowmobile, but wait for Nate’s go-ahead for any other shot.”
He nodded, but he really didn’t need to. It was typical protocol for him to wait for permission for his shot. He’d stay here, uphill about a half mile. Not only was it the right spot to take out the snowmobile, but because he would be on overwatch for the team as well, this stand gave him a full overview without putting him too far away. Distance wasn’t an issue though. Not really. Riley could make this shot and longer ones with no problem or loss of accuracy.