Double Black Diamond

by A. G. Henley

  “Keep walking,” Cooley said as the tide of reporters broke over us.

  The stiletto-wearing woman stuck a microphone in Veena’s face. She spoke perfect English with a French accent. “VV, is it true you were almost abducted and that you are still being threatened?”

  “Is your life in danger?” a man asked.

  “Who threatened you?” This woman sounded German or maybe Swiss. I wasn’t sure how to tell the difference.

  Veena didn’t respond. She kept her eyes on Bart, who was waving us forward to the doors. I kept to the side and close behind her, keeping a sharp eye on the reporters. Concealing a weapon in that tangle of bodies and camera equipment wouldn’t be hard.

  “Will you still compete in the Olympics despite the threats?” the first woman said.

  At that, Veena stopped short and faced the cameras. She smiled, but I could see the resolve burning in her eyes.

  “You bet I am. I worked too hard not to compete. I won’t stop riding or stop living. I’m going to compete and hopefully take home a medal.”

  “Ah. Then you can confirm you were threatened?” the second woman asked.

  Veena took a shaky breath and pushed her chunks of newly streaked red, platinum, and blue hair behind her ears. “Thanks for your questions, but I just got off a long flight, and I’m tired, so . . . I’m leaving now.” She walked on, me on her heels. The reporters followed, but Cooley and Kovitch made sure they stayed back.

  “Well done,” I said.

  “Thanks.” She hung her head and lifted up a bleached lock of hair. “Maybe I should have gone back to natural. I stand out too much with this.”

  “V, you’re a world-class snowboarder with killer style. You’ll stand out wherever you go. Might as well be yourself.”

  She shot me a smile but fished oversized sunglasses out of her bag. We rushed her out to the car for the two-hour ride into the heart of the Swiss Alps.

  I finally slept in the car and woke up to the gingerbread house world of Laax. Frosted mountains and icing-ruffled lakes were the backdrop for cookie houses and mint trees. I wouldn’t be surprised if little gummy people cruised the streets. The crystalized beauty of the place blew me away.

  In my prep work, I’d learned that the resort, supported by the nearby towns of Laax, Flims, and Falera, had positioned itself as the place for free skiing and riding in the run up to their bid to host the Winter Games. The resort boasted over one hundred miles of terrain, parks for every level of skiers and riders, and of course, the Beast.

  The Olympic Village was constructed near the base. When the Olympics were held in cities, like Rio or Beijing, the athletes stayed in high-rise apartments. To preserve the view of the mountains, the Swiss had built a number of three-story buildings and assigned athletes to them by continent—European athletes with South American athletes, North Americans with Asians, Africans with Australians—to add to the camaraderie of the Games. Swiss security personnel with rifles stood guard around the Village, keeping an eye on things.

  While adjusting to jetlag the first few days, Veena took it easier than she had in Vail. She always spent at least an hour on the hill, if only riding for fun. Otherwise, she did some light cardio or weight-training workouts and showed up for interviews according to the correct schedule Newman emailed. I couldn’t believe how many international news outlets she talked to, and she was always amazing: approachable, funny, humble. Everyone asked about the threats and the rumored kidnapping, but she deflected those questions and focused on riding and the Games.

  She met up with Anders in the Village a few days after we arrived. She shrieked when she saw him, and I was happy to see that he hugged her back just as tight. He had dark brown corkscrew-shaped curls that hung in his green eyes. His skin had a pink tinge from being outdoors so much, and he was taller and thinner than he looked in the pictures Veena had showed me. He wore what I’d decided was the snowboarder uniform—jeans, an oversized sweatshirt with a board brand on the front, and a slouchy winter hat.

  They chatted for a few minutes, standing close. I moved as far away as I could, but I could still hear his beautiful accent. They arranged to hang out later, and I couldn’t help calculating all the risks of their being alone together. I’d discovered right away after getting to Laax that the Olympians came to play in more ways than one.

  “What happens in the Olympic Village, stays in the Olympic Village,” Ali said with a wink when we couldn’t find her the night she arrived. She’d hooked up with a Canadian skier she shared a ride with from the airport.

  I’d seen Darya around with her Belarusian teammates, although she didn’t seem any closer to them than to the students at VMA. Had she told the media when Veena’s flight was arriving in Zurich, and if so, why? I could only conclude that she wanted to knock Veena off her game, or better yet, right off the podium.

  We hadn’t heard anything at all from the kidnappers, despite all kinds of speculation by the press. Veena seemed to handle it well, even though I knew it had to be stressful not knowing if the threat was over. It wasn’t like the victim got a note saying, Hi. We’re finished threatening to kill you, please carry on with your life.

  The morning of the opening ceremonies, a week after we arrived in Laax, I sat on the deck of an outdoor café at the top of the Beast. From there I could keep an eye on Veena, the other riders, and the inevitable photojournalists capturing footage of the athletes. I’d seen Connor around the slopes most days, checking on his patients and triaging any fresh injuries, although we’d only had time for quick hellos.

  Since Cooley was technically on duty, I’d grabbed a cup of Swiss coffee and a buttery croissant—yum—and settled in a chair outside. People lounged around enjoying the sunshine and blue skies. My phone rang, and for once, it wasn’t Brown. Mom.

  My chest constricted. First, I always called her, not the other way around. Second, it was one in the morning in Vegas. Keeping my voice even when I answered took effort.

  “Mom? Are you okay?”

  “Nicole? It’s Mom.”

  If I weren’t so alarmed, I would have rolled my eyes. “I know. Is everything okay?”

  “I saw you on the news. You were with that Olympic snowboarder, the pretty Indian girl with the blue hair?”

  I waited.

  “They were interviewing her at the airport, and I saw you behind her. Are you in Switzerland?” She sounded panicked. I guessed she hadn’t caught the news until today.

  “Yes.” I couldn’t help sounding a little guilty. I should have let her know where I was going, but I didn’t want her to freak out.

  She was silent for a full ten seconds. When she spoke again, her voice was weak. “They said she was threatened. Are you in danger, too?”

  “No,” I said firmly. “I’m here to make sure no one will be.”

  “But the reporter said someone had already tried to kidnap her.”

  “I’m fine, Mom. Please don’t worry.”

  “Of course, I’m worried!” Her voice sharpened to a point I hadn’t heard since I told her I wanted to go to Juno instead of college. “You’re my only child, and you’re in another country doing a job you have no experience with. A job that’s dangerous.”

  Down the hill, Veena had taken her board and helmet off, done for the day. She shielded her eyes with her hand, looking for me.

  “I have to go.” My voice was clipped. “I’ll call you later.”

  “Nicole, wait. I only . . . I want you to be careful. Please be careful.”

  I hung up without saying goodbye. I know she was worried, but couldn’t she have a little faith in me? A little belief that I might be good at my job, even if I was inexperienced? Veena, whose life was actually at stake here, did. Why couldn’t my own mother?

  I had to let it go; I needed to focus. That evening, Veena was participating in one of the most televised events in the world and one of the most potentially vulnerable for her. The opening ceremonies. Thousands of people would pack the shiny new Arena of Peace bu
ilt especially for the Games. Later, the drama ice skaters would take it over for their events.

  Veena’s parents couldn’t persuade her not to walk with the U.S. Team, and Brown couldn’t get the Olympic Committee to budge on letting me go with her. No non-athletes; no exceptions. Swiss security personnel would be on hand. I wasn’t needed.

  I understood; the athletes suffered and sacrificed to earn this moment in the spotlight. They can’t let just anyone be a part of it. So, I stood right inside the tunnel leading out to the arena from the underground hall where the athletes queued and filed out by country. I waved as Veena walked into the arena with her teammates. She waved back with an elated expression and held up her phone to capture the memory on video, smiling wide as camera flashes fireworked around the darkened facility. The moment was magic.

  I didn’t mean to, but as each day passed, I found myself relaxing. Maybe the kidnappers had given up because of the extra media attention. Maybe they couldn’t pivot fast enough after Copper. Maybe Veena was off the hook.

  Or maybe they were biding their time.

  Nineteen

  While Veena caught up on her sleep after the late night of celebrations, Connor texted me an invitation to dinner. Embarrassing unicorns of joy jumped over rainbows of happiness in my chest. I’d missed our lessons. I’d missed him.

  And to be honest, I really wanted to hook up with him again. Preferably somewhere warmer and softer than an icy picnic table.

  I asked Brown for the night off. I’d worked every day since we arrived, and frankly, I needed time to decompress. People had jammed Laax since the day before the opening ceremonies. The place was your basic security nightmare.

  I’ll pick you up at seven, Connor’s last text said.

  At six-forty-five, Veena was getting ready for dinner with her folks. She seemed unusually calm, although she’d prayed puja to Lakshmi at her makeshift altar on the bedside table for ten extra minutes.

  “Let’s hear it. You and Connor. Are you, like, dating?” she asked while dabbing gloss on her lips.

  Barefoot, in pajama pants and a tank, I shook my head while examining the pathetic contents of my closet. Veena thought I should rock heels and one of her teeny skirts, but I’d rejected that idea. First, it was freezing out there. Second, if something happened to her while I was out, I wouldn’t be any help dressed like that. I laid out skinny jeans, a deep V-neck blouse, a scarf, and sensible boots on my bed.

  “He’s a great guy, like you said. But I don’t expect anything. I just want to spend a little time with him while I can. How about Anders? How are things?”

  She flopped on her bed, a pillow tucked into her abdomen. “Oh, Anders. My lover, my tormentor.”

  I eyed her. “Lover?”

  “A figure of speech. For now. Although . . . I haven’t heard from him today. And I don’t know when I’ll see him again. I can’t hang out the next few days because of my events, and then his events are after mine.”

  Anders competed in boardercross, which meant he cared about breaking his neck about as much as Veena did.

  “And—” She started, stopped, and started again. “I told you I don’t get to see Ali and Gage that much because of our travel schedules. So, what’s the point of getting closer to Anders? How can we have a relationship when we go to different events all over the world? And what will he think of me when he truly gets to know me.” She pointed at her altar. “What would he think of Lakshmi, for example? Or my parents? Has he ever even met another Desi before?”

  I’d finally Googled what that was: someone from India, Pakistan, or Bangladesh who lived outside of their country.

  “Well, I’ve never known a Desi before, and your four-fisted goddess wasn’t all that strange to me.”

  She snickered. “Yeah, but you were trained to, like, kill people with your bare hands. You’re already strange.”

  I rolled my eyes as I pulled on my jeans. “Well, this strange agent thinks you’re making excuses because you’re scared.” Her eyes went slitty. I’d learned over the weeks the one thing you don’t tell this girl is that she’s afraid of something. “No?” I said. “Prove it. Tell him you’re into him.”

  Her mouth turned up in an evil smile. “I will if you will. I tell Anders; you tell Connor.”

  Connor already had an idea about it from the picnic table, I thought, but I hadn’t told Veena about that. I might have shredded the majority of my professional boundaries with her, but I thought my love life should still be mostly off limits.

  Someone knocked on our door. I yelled to Connor to hang on, pulled on the rest of my clothes, yanked a brush through my hair a few times, and slicked a bit of makeup.

  She gripped my hand and whispered, “Tell him! I won’t let go until you say you will. You’ll have to take me with you on your date!”

  “Okay, fine. I will. Be careful tonight, please.” I side-eyed her, scooped up my coat and bag, and went to see where the night would take me.

  Connor and I strolled through the Olympic Village, a soft snow drifting past the circles of light thrown by streetlamps. This was nothing like the furious storm we drove through to Copper—more like goose feathers dusting our heads and shoulders. Laax was even more charming in the snow, if that was possible.

  We passed athletes coming and going from the Village. Most were at least a few years older than Veena. Snowboarding was a young sport, and she was one of the youngest Olympians at sixteen. But they were all healthy and fit. Knowing how hard they worked to get here, what they often had to sacrifice, made respecting them easy.

  The base of the mountain was full of chic restaurants, bars, and shops. People were everywhere, strolling like us or inside enjoying dinner and drinks, oozing money in leather and fur. I’d seen an animated version of Heidi when I was a kid. This wasn’t it.

  Connor turned to me with a surprised look when I took his hand in the middle of the main square where NBC Sports was set up, getting ready for their nightly broadcast.

  “Hey . . . in case you didn’t know, I like you. A lot,” I said.

  “Okay.” He raised an eyebrow. “Is this a joke?”

  “No joke. I promised Veena I’d tell you that tonight, and I thought I’d get it out of the way early so I can relax.”

  He pulled me around so he could see my face. “I thought you’d be pissed off at me. But instead you tell me you like me?”

  I brushed snow out of his hair. “Don’t forget I said ‘a lot’. Why did you think I was mad?”

  He encased my fingers in his gloves; I’d forgotten mine. “Because, you know, we kissed and everything, and it was great, but I haven’t been able to see you since. I wanted to, believe me, but a lot’s been going on.”

  “Oh. Yeah. It’s okay. I’ve been busy, too.” Did he think I was that self-centered, that he had to spend every free minute with me? On the other hand, Veena was worried because Anders hadn’t texted her today. Huh.

  He studied me for a second. “You’re a strange woman, Gogo.”

  “I keep hearing that.”

  His brow wrinkled. “You’re not, I don’t know, clingy, like some people can be.”

  “Who has time to be clingy? I have a job to do over here, just like you.” I started walking again, still holding his hand so he had to walk a bit faster to catch up.

  “Is that it?” he asked.

  I glanced at him; he was smiling. “Is what it?”

  “Don’t you want to know how I feel?”

  My heart rate quickened. “Okay.”

  He snorted. “You are a strange one.”

  In a smooth motion, I bent his arm behind him, like I did with Jake, only slow and gentle, until his body pressed against mine. Handy move, that.

  “I’m what?” I asked sweetly.

  “You are completely and totally normal, Ms. Rossi.”

  I batted my eyelashes and let him go. “That’s what I thought.”

  He took my shoulders—carefully. “And I like you, too. A lot.”

  I shoo
k my head. “What’s wrong with you? I just put you in an arm lock.”

  His eyes glinted in the lamplight. “I know. Loved every second of it, too.”

  He slid an arm around my back, while the other cupped my face. His eyes searched mine, and he kissed me. Our lips moved together, fitting perfectly. Snow fell on my face, but I barely felt it. My legs went liquid, and a fire lit in my chest. I crushed myself against him. Damn, he felt good.

  When we broke apart, we grinned stupidly at each other.

  “More of that, please.” His voice was low and rough.

  I winced as my stomach growled. “Dinner first?”

  He laughed and took my hand again. Only he stopped a few feet later to tug me behind a kiosk advertising snowmobile tours and heli-skiing. He snuck a look around the side.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Look.” He pointed to the window of a fancy restaurant we were about to pass. L’Atelier, the sign said.

  Two men sat at a table. One was beefy and red-faced with silver-shot brown hair. The other was tall, thin, and Asian. All around them at other tables people laughed and talked. These two sat stiffly in their chairs with grim expressions. The Asian man was speaking.

  I studied the beefy guy. “That’s Darya’s coach, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” Connor said.

  “Who’s the other one?”

  “Mei and Jia-Li’s coach.”

  “Are they friends?”

  “Not that I know of. Darya’s coach is pretty sure he’s God’s gift to the snowboarding world. I haven’t met the other guy; I’ve just seen him.” He studied the pair. “Maybe they’re networking—”

  “The night before their athletes compete against each other?” And try to take the top spot from Veena? Mei, Jia-Li, and Darya were ranked second, third, and fourth coming into the Games. Connor shot me a dark look of understanding.

  Sliding around the kiosk again, I took a picture with my phone and sent it to Brown.