Firestorm

by Radclyffe

“On belay,” Mallory called.

  “Roger,” Jac said. “On belay.”

  Mallory adjusted the tension on the line, watching Jac’s every move. “Nice and slow, Russo.”

  “Not to worry,” Jac called, flashing a grin that caught Mallory by surprise and set off a small earthquake of shivers along her spine. “Remember, steady is my middle name.”

  Mallory ignored the sharp slice of frigid air knifing through her chest with every breath. All that mattered was Jac. The second climber was usually the most secure, which was why she had gone first to begin with. But the ledge was tricky and visibility low in the swirl of ice and snow. She wasn’t going to be able to shake the slithering dread in her belly until Jac was beside her on solid ground. She swallowed the urge to tell her to hurry.

  Jac viewed the narrow ledge as she would an IED—a formidable enemy, but one she knew how to beat. Her vision sharpened, her thoughts crystallized, and the tang of adrenaline filled her mouth. Battle lust. She’d known it all her life in one form or another. Only this time she wasn’t fighting alone. Mallory had her back. Confident, ready, she unhooked her ax from her belt, grasped the rope, and stepped out onto the ice- and snow-covered shelf. Her pulse was steady, her breathing regular, her mind focused only on one thing—keeping herself and her climbing partner safe. Mallory’s crossing could have loosened the underlying ice and snowpack, creating unstable footing, and she checked each foothold carefully before she moved. When she reached the first of Mallory’s bolts, she unclipped her rope. Blinking away tears stirred by the lashing wind, she called, “Tension!”

  Mallory took up the slack, and Jac set off again. The surface underfoot was nearly obscured by blowing snow, uneven and slippery. She tapped the ground directly in front of her, sending loose rock and ice skittering over the side. A few seconds later a heavy thud sounded from far below followed by the rumble of a mini-avalanche reverberating up the rocky cleft. She reached the halfway point, and some of the tension in her shoulders eased a little bit. Another few minutes and she’d be on solid ground. She took another step, felt the snow shift under her boots, felt the vibration, heard a grinding sound, and had only a second to tighten her grip on the rope.

  “Falling,” Jac shouted and the ledge gave way. Her shoulder struck the edge of the rocky outcropping as she dropped, and a searing pain shot down her right arm. Her fingers went numb, and she lost her grip on the guide rope, free-falling until the slack caught and her harness jerked her roughly into a horizontal position, like a fly on the end of a line. She twirled, spinning around, driving her already damaged shoulder into the wall again. She cried out, unable to stop herself, and tasted blood in her mouth.

  “Jac!” Mallory called from above. “Jac?”

  “Here.” Jac swallowed blood, the initial swell of panic fading. She wasn’t falling anymore. The rope had held. She kicked her feet around, forcing her torso toward the wall until she found a handhold on a three-inch root sticking out through the ice. She got herself vertical, head up, feet down, and craned her neck to see above her. A dark shadow broke the uniform fall of snow. Jac rubbed her face on her sleeve, clearing dirt and debris, and focused on the shape. Mallory knelt on the ledge, her features stony, the guide rope tight around her hips.

  “Are you hurt?” Mallory called down.

  “Banged up my shoulder. My arm isn’t working quite right, but I think it’s just sprained.”

  “Can you climb?”

  Jac braced her feet against the vertical wall and dug her toes into the frozen surface, searching for a foothold as she gripped the rope with her good arm. “Yes.”

  “Let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll pull you up.”

  Snow, rocks, and small pebbles broke free from the gap in the ledge and rained down in Jac’s face. She closed her eyes and turned her head away. When the shower stopped, the gap in the shelf was wider, and a fresh gouge in the rock face had appeared just below where Mallory knelt. “That ledge isn’t safe, Mal. You need to reposition.”

  “We need to get you up. Climb.”

  Jac knew what Mallory wasn’t saying. The rest of the ledge could give way at any second, and if it did, they would both fall with very little chance of getting back up again. Once she put her weight against the wall, with Mallory as the fulcrum, that ledge would bear even more weight. “Mal, I don’t think—”

  “Climb, damn it, Jac. Don’t argue.”

  Jac tightened her grip, pushed down with her thighs, and pulled herself up as Mallory reeled in the slack. More stones fell, a chunk of ice bounced off her back.

  “I’m not taking you down with me,” Jac yelled.

  “No one is going to fall. Keep coming. Another couple of feet and I’ll have you.”

  Jac secured new footholds, flexed her thighs, bunched her shoulders, and shoved herself up. The rope tightened as Mallory worked her end. The crack below the ledge widened. She was close, but not close enough. “Back off to somewhere stable, Mal. I can make it from here.”

  She was lying, but Mallory didn’t need to know that.

  Mallory’s face appeared through the haze, her eyes dark burning coals. “Don’t quit on me, Russo.”

  Jac tried to flex the fingers of her right hand, searching in the front pocket of her jacket for her knife. If the ledge gave way she could cut loose—Mallory might have a chance.

  “Don’t you even think it,” Mallory snarled, her expression feral. “You get up here, Russo. I’m not letting you go. You got it?”

  Jac couldn’t cut herself free even if she’d wanted to. The feeling was coming back in her arm, but not fast enough. Her fingers were too numb to grip her knife. If she didn’t want to take Mallory down to the bottom of that ravine with her, she had to get herself up. She flexed the muscles in her abdomen, forced her feet into the crevices in the wall, and pushed. Her shoulder struck the wall, and she bit back a cry. Then Mallory was leaning over the edge, grabbing her harness, jerking her up, and she was kicking, pushing, pulling herself onto stable ground.

  “I’ve got you,” Mallory gasped, crushing Jac against her body.

  “Get off of here, Mal,” Jac gasped. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Be careful, Russo,” Mallory murmured against Jac’s neck. “I’m not pulling you up again today.”

  Jac closed her eyes and breathed the scent of Mallory deep into her chest, letting herself rest in the safety of Mallory’s arms. “Can’t say as I blame you.”

  “Shut up, Jac.” Mallory’s lips brushed over Jac’s cheek, so light they might have been snowflakes except for the searing heat that followed. “Just shut up.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Jac crawled off the ledge, got her legs under her, and braced her body against the rising wind. Her pulse stopped racing, and her stomach settled with her first step onto stable ground. The snowfall formed a solid wall of white now, and she focused on Mallory’s dark silhouette just ahead of her as she pushed forward into the gale.

  “Over here,” Mallory shouted, pointing to a story-high outcropping of boulders.

  Following the brief break Mallory forged in the frozen tapestry, Jac ducked under a slight overhang, hunched against the rough rock face next to Mallory, and turned her head out of the driving wind and snow.

  “How do you feel?” Mallory asked. Ice crystals caked her lashes, melting on the dark filaments like weeping diamonds.

  “I’m good.” Jac saw the words deflected by the stormy surface of Mallory’s eyes, but she recognized pain where others saw only cold reserve. Mallory was blaming herself for the accident. “I’m alive. You’re alive. All that matters now is the mission.”

  “We need to turn back. You’re injured and I can’t leave—”

  “No. I can keep going.” Jac raised her injured arm to demonstrate. “Strength’s coming back. Must have banged the nerve a bit. No harm done.”

  “My fault,” Mallory said tersely. “I shouldn’t have let you cross—”

  “Mallory, we’re partners out here.
A team.” Jac lowered her arm, giving her aching shoulder a rest. “If I hadn’t wanted to cross and hadn’t thought it was safe for you or me, I would’ve said so.”

  “I’m still the boss, team or not. I’m sorry.” Mallory stared straight ahead, her jaw set, her cheeks pale beneath the windburn that painted a crimson swath high on each arched cheekbone.

  “Look,” Jac said, refusing to let Mallory shoulder blame when there was none, “I know the statistics as well as you do. I know how many rescuers are injured or worse. If it wasn’t dangerous out here, those kids would’ve strolled down the mountainside yesterday. We don’t have time to beat ourselves up. Deal?”

  “You’re right,” Mallory said, some of the tension easing from her face. She turned until their eyes met and smiled gently. “How’s your shoulder really?”

  “Hurts like a son of a bitch.” Just seeing the shadows recede from Mallory’s eyes made Jac’s pain fade. “But it’s not broken, and the strength is back in my hand. I’m good to keep going, but I don’t think I can climb, at least not right away.”

  “If this snow keeps up, we’re not going to be going anywhere for much longer.” Mallory brushed the moisture off her face impatiently. “We knew weather was coming, but I hoped we’d at least have today.”

  “Let’s push on. We’ve still got some time.”

  “Are you sure? I’m not risking you getting hurt again.” Mallory cupped Jac’s jaw. “I want to find them, but I can’t chance losing you.”

  The words came out in a low, tortured whisper, as if Mallory didn’t want to say them, didn’t want to feel the fear that reverberated in her voice. Jac’s heart hurt for her, but Mallory didn’t need her sympathy. Wouldn’t accept it if she offered.

  Jac removed her glove. “Give me your hand.”

  Mallory’s brows furrowed, but she took off her right glove and held out her hand. Jac took her fingers and squeezed, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make her point. Mallory’s fleeting grin said she’d made the right move.

  “Believe me now, Boss?” Jac relaxed her grip but kept hold of Mallory’s fingers. The heat of Mallory’s hand in hers was welcome in the bitter cold, but the connection warmed her in places far deeper. Mallory was a touchstone, a solid comfort she’d long ago stopped seeking. “Mal, I—”

  “All right, Russo, I believe you.” Mallory slid her hand free. “But if you have any trouble at all, I want to know about it. No heroics.”

  Jac nodded, not trusting herself to speak. What had she almost said? Not anything she ever expected to feel and definitely not anything Mallory wanted to hear. Mallory had made it clear over and over—Mallory didn’t want anything from her except her best in the field. The same thing Mallory wanted from all the other members of her crew—nothing more. When had she started wanting more—and how quickly could she stop?

  Jac shoved her hand back into her glove. “No problem. All I want is to find them and get off this mountain.”

  “Good enough. Let’s—” Mallory’s radio crackled.

  “Rescue C-ten-two,” Sarah announced over the rescue channel. “We have one of the climbers. He said the other two are near the mountain crest. One injured.”

  David Longbow’s voice cut in. “Approximate coordinates?”

  Sarah responded with the location, and Mallory pulled out her map. “This is rescue C-ten-one. We’re half a mile below their location.”

  “Can you make it with the weather?” David asked. “We can’t get a helicopter up there until morning at the earliest.”

  Mallory hesitated and Jac knew why. Mallory was still worried about her, but if they didn’t get to the other two climbers, no one else was going to until at least the next day when the storm relented and visibility improved. By then, those two kids could be dead.

  “Tell him yes, Mal. I’m fine and we can’t stay here. Might as well keep moving.”

  Mallory nodded sharply. “We can make it, David.”

  “Radio your position every half hour.”

  “Roger that.”

  Jac got to her feet and slung her pack over her good shoulder.

  “I want to keep a line between us,” Mallory said as she stood and attached her rope to her harness.

  Jac ignored the rope Mallory held out to her. She was the most likely to fall—even though she felt strong, her balance was a little off from shifting the weight in her pack to one shoulder. If she fell, she’d pull Mallory down with her. “I think I’m better off—”

  “That’s the only way we’re doing this, Russo. Your choice.”

  Jac didn’t see she had much choice. Maybe she was too used to going it alone. When she stared down an IED, it was just her and the bomb. She had teammates, but she took the long walk out to duel with death alone. “Okay.”

  “Thank you,” Mallory said. “I know it goes against your nature, Jac.”

  Mallory’s understanding melted the last of Jac’s resistance, and she tied on to Mallory’s lead line. “You be careful too. You’ve still got a few things to teach me.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, rookie. I’ve got plenty in store for you.”

  Laughing with a surge of pleasure, Jac pushed off in Mallory’s footsteps.

  *

  Mallory fought her urge to go quickly. Too many rescuers ran into trouble when rescue fever made them jettison judgment in the rush to get to the victims. Visibility was almost zero, despite at least an hour of daylight left, and the footing was getting more treacherous with every step and every new inch of snow. She checked her GPS again. They couldn’t be more than a few hundred yards away from where the lost climber had estimated his friends were located. She gripped the line connecting her to Jac and tested the tension, some of the tightness in her chest easing when the resistance on the line told her Jac was behind her, moving in tandem with her. She didn’t try to talk to her. Her voice would never carry over the howling wind. If she turned to look for her, she probably wouldn’t see more than a blurry outline in the clouds of snow. Knowing Jac was there was enough to keep the images that haunted her from breaking her concentration. She couldn’t afford to see the ledge giving way, couldn’t let the memory of Jac disappearing into the void burn a hole in her brain. The terror still skirted the edges of her mind, threatening to cripple her if she couldn’t keep the panic at bay.

  For a few horrible seconds after Jac had fallen, she’d stopped breathing, her heart threatening to burst from the agony. She’d thought nothing could be as horrible as emerging in the ashes of the blow-over last summer, of surveying her team and realizing she was missing two men. She’d prayed never to feel anything like that excruciating despair again. She’d sworn never to put herself in the position where she might lose everything. She’d do anything, everything, to ensure her team was always safe. She’d guard against personal affection, she’d steel her heart against caring. She would never be vulnerable again. But she hadn’t counted on anyone like Jac—so open, so honest, so fearless. Jac pierced her armor as if she were completely exposed and defenseless. She couldn’t let herself care this much. She had to find some way to stop it.

  Mallory clambered over a rocky verge onto more level ground, dotted here and there with lone scraggly pines and enormous boulders. Jac came up beside her.

  “How much farther?” Jac shouted.

  “We’re close,” Mallory replied. “They probably don’t have a light by now. Hopefully they found some kind of shelter. Let’s check out the rocks up ahead.”

  Jac gripped Mallory’s shoulder. “Let’s untie. If we search independently, we’ll make the most of the daylight left.”

  Mallory hesitated. The idea of Jac being out of her sight made her stomach roll. She battled her racing heart and made herself consider their objective dispassionately. Jac was right. She was more than capable. She would be fine. “All right. Double-check your radio now.”

  Nodding, Jac unhooked her radio, walked a few feet away, and spoke into it. Mallory’s radio crackled and Jac’s voice came over.

&nbs
p; “You’re good,” Mallory called.

  Jac returned, her dark eyes burning through the snow between them. “You be careful too.”

  “Check in every five minutes.” Mallory pointed to a looming rock formation in the center of the field of boulders. “The one that looks like a snowman. That will be our center point. I’ll take left of there, you take right, and we’ll meet there, all right?”

  “Got it. See you soon.”

  Jac turned away and within seconds was swallowed up by the storm. Mallory’s throat was dry, and the coppery bite of fear filled her mouth. She swallowed, blanked her mind. The mission was all. She’d see Jac again soon.

  Five minutes later, she checked in with Jac. “Anything?”

  “Not yet.”

  At ten minutes and fifteen, the response was the same.

  Mallory reached the far side of the boulder field and circled toward the rendezvous point, battling frustration. When her radio crackled, hope surged.

  “Mallory,” Jac said urgently, “I’ve got them.”

  “Where?”

  Jac reeled off the coordinates. Mallory checked her GPS, adjusted her path, and hurried forward as quickly as she could in the rapidly waning light.

  She found Jac kneeling over two huddled figures on the lee side of a pile of boulders. The snow-covered climbers were barely recognizable as human forms, and in the dark, Mallory suspected they would have passed right by them. “Are they alive?”

  “Yes, but both are unconscious.” Jac stood. “We need to get them someplace out of this storm. They’re both really cold.”

  Mallory looked around. No caves, no forest. They were out in the open with nothing but rocks as windbreaks. She pointed to the cliff face. Snowdrifts several stories high rose from its base. “We’ll need to dig a snow cave. There’s no telling how long this storm will last or how much snow we’ll get. You know how?”

  “I’ve never done it, but I know the principles.”

  “There’s a good buildup on that rock face. Dig in three feet before you angle up. We don’t need a big cave, just enough for the four of us. I’ll call David with our position, and then I’ll get these two ready to be moved.”