On the far side of the fire a familiar bull-shaped head popped out of one of the unzipped flaps. “Hey, Jellic, man. I thought you were long gone. Word was that you’d gone back to New Zealand.”
Basie didn’t say with your tail between your legs, but Kurt got the message. Obviously that was the latest story circulating in the camp.
“Not a chance. I’ve work to finish here.”
Basie scrabbled out of the tent to stand beside them. He was a big man and had a laugh to match. “Ms. Tedman. I see you got what you wanted. I wish you luck.” His almost colorless blue eyes narrowed as he assessed Kurt, but it was Chelsea he was talking to. “You’re going to need it. The season will be rushing to a close sooner than we thought if last night’s winds are anything to go by.”
“I’ve every confidence in Mr. Jellic,” she told Serfontien.
It struck the right note as far as Kurt was concerned. He didn’t mind the formality one bit. It meant he’d gotten the need to protect her reputation through to her.
“So, Kurt, your team came ahead. You managed without them?”
“We found a roof to shelter under. I’ve been coming here for a few years. There aren’t many villages on the route where I haven’t made friends.” Let Basie make what he could of that. No one needed to know where he and Chelsea had stayed, or what they had done during the windstorm. “So, you’ve seen Rei? Did you notice where he set up? Am I heading in the right direction?”
“Your Sherpas arrived yesterday. We saw Rei on our way back down. It wasn’t weather for camping on a narrow ledge, though I’ve done it before. We spent half the night with our backs to the tent poles propping them up. Now we’re ready to rest.”
Kurt couldn’t be bothered commenting. He’d been through windstorms—he knew the routine. Besides, it was Chelsea Basie was trying to impress. “Whereabouts did you see my team?”
“Where you were set up before. It’s a good spot, but nobody was keen to take it over while you were gone.” He turned to Chelsea. “Some guides are as superstitious as their Sherpas.”
Chelsea passed the insinuation off with a tired laugh. “Good thing I’m not. All I can think of right now is taking this pack off and finding a seat and a hot cup of tea, in that order.”
She was doing well, making out that the trip up had been hard on her, when in fact all her walking and climbing muscles had been broken in during the past week.
Kurt could be just as formal as Chelsea. “Not to worry, Ms. Tedman. My team have worked with me on and off for quite a few seasons. If I know them, they’ll have seen us coming. It might be a long way from the Peaks Hotel, but I can assure you my men will treat you right and see you have everything you need.”
She took the cue and kept up the act like an old hand. “Great. I can’t wait to see what the inside of my tent looks like.” She glanced over to the opening Basie had appeared through. Her nose curled as if all her aristocratic Spanish ancestors were ranged behind her.
Kurt followed her gaze. Inside, Basie’s tent looked like the scene of a typically untidy, all-male occupation. “Don’t worry, the tents are roomier inside than they look from out here, and you’ll have it all to yourself.”
“That’s a relief.” Her gaze held Kurt’s and added another meaning to her next comment. “I’m not used to sharing.”
“No problem there. That was never part of the deal. And now I know where Sherpa Rei has camped, you’ll have that hot drink before you know it.”
He thrust out a hand to Serfontien, who shook it and slapped the top of Kurt’s arm, laughing again. “Good luck, my friend.” He gave Chelsea a sideways glance as if he meant Good luck with that one. “I’ll see you on the mountain.”
“Yeah, see you around.”
“But not if we see you first,” Chelsea muttered as soon as they were out of earshot.
The darn cheek of that man!
“I’m glad Basie Serfontien wasn’t available when I asked him to take me up the mountain. He actually feels sorry for you.”
She could tell Kurt wanted to smile. It was in his eyes, if not on his lips. “Wasn’t that the whole point of the exercise? You play the shrew very well.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice. Does that make you rue the day you decided to take me on?”
“What do you think?”
They were passing a group where a Japanese flag flapped occasionally in the stuttering breeze that wasn’t even a thirty-third cousin of the winds they’d had a few night before. She didn’t think they would understand the discussion, but just in case she sharpened her tone. “That’s no answer. Tell me the truth—do you wish you’d never met me?”
Kurt didn’t reply straight off and when he did, compared to her voice, his was pitched low. For her ears only. “I could wish we’d never had to meet this way. That it hadn’t taken the deaths of Bill and Atlanta to bring us together, because what happened to them is the reason that keeps us apart, and nothing you can say will convince me otherwise.”
For a second she saw heat in his gaze, hidden just as quickly behind his thick dark eyelashes before her eyes could respond to their smoldering fire. Her body had no such reluctance. Her breasts peaked and grew full, tight.
Her step faltered, letting him get a couple of paces ahead. Just as well, she decided. She would get her female instincts under control only by keeping away from him.
If this was an example of camouflaging their regard for each other, the next few weeks were going to be hell. Kurt might think she was a good actress, but from the moment she’d heard of her sister’s death she’d been ruled by her emotions. She was only ever going to be as good as her turbulent feelings let her, and there was one question that needed answering.
Just one.
Then she would let it go, she told herself.
She could see Sherpa Rei and the others just ahead. If she didn’t ask him now it would be too late. She lifted her hand to snag his arm, and then remembered how casually he’d shrugged off her touch when they first arrived at Base Camp.
“Kurt!”
He swung around, frowning. He hadn’t looked at her that way since he’d quietly taken command at the hotel and insisted on paying for their lunch, even though he’d just told her he was short of money. That was when she had discovered, like it or not, Kurt would be the man in control of their lives for the duration of their agreement. She had backed down then, and for the first time had been glad to leave all the arrangements to him. To discover how it felt not to have the stress of always having to make the right decisions for herself, by herself.
“Sorry. You were walking too fast. There’s just one more question I need to ask, and then I’ll let it drop. Do you regret what happened?” She held her breath, waiting for his reply. It seemed to take forever to come and when he spoke, his face was drawn and strained as if it hurt.
“No regrets. How can I regret the best night of my life? And I know you’re having trouble with my decision never to let it happen again. I know it’s hurting you. But hell, Teddy, you’ve no idea the agony it causes me just being around you.”
His smile was tight and flat as he took a step closer, one small step as if he couldn’t resist. Then he whispered so softly that if the breeze had come up at that moment, it would have carried his words away. “If we were alone, I’d take your hand and show you an example of how I feel, and that’s just from looking at you. I want to kiss your face, taste your lips and be back inside your healing power.”
He sighed, a rueful noise that matched her feelings as he said, “But it’s never going to happen. Not in this lifetime. It can’t. You’ve trusted me to protect you. Let me do my job.”
The rough cadence of his whispers built into a growl. She saw a nerve pulse in his temple as he leaned toward her. Anyone watching would think they were arguing. “So, damn well drop it, Ms. Tedman, and let me get on with the work you’re paying for.”
She watched him turn on his heel and walk away, his boots throwing up small chunks of rock as
he quickened his stride.
You just couldn’t leave it alone, could you?
Subdued, she slowly followed in his wake, taking time to think. There had to be a way around his fears.
Surely once this was all over… She closed her eyes, unable to bear that it might be otherwise. If she put her mind to it she would find a way for them to be together—if not here, then Paris, the States, or New Zealand. Whatever it took, she was going to find the solution to the mess her life was in, not only with Kurt, but with cousin Arlon and IBIS, as well.
Chapter 9
Kurt had a bad case of déjà vu. It didn’t seem long ago that he’d sat around this same fire, planning the route to the top in a huddle with the Chaplins, Paul Nichols, Rei and Ang Nuwa.
This time to complicate matters, two of the original party wouldn’t be going home under their own steam, and that would take careful preparation.
He counted heads—Chelsea, Rei and his cousin. The odds weren’t on his side with only him, two Sherpas and a complete rookie. Not a combination to inspire confidence in anyone. He gritted his teeth, but it didn’t prevent a worry gremlin taking a sideswipe at his worst-case scenario.
What if his luck was no better than last time and they came up one, or even more, short again on the way down?
He blinked the thought away. It was hard to keep a positive attitude, and he couldn’t prevent sudden flashes of concern from popping into his consciousness. It wouldn’t do to let these concerns filter through to the others.
“Right, let’s talk about safety. We stay roped together most of the time, and use ascenders where we can on the fixed lines. In other words, we take no risks.” He nodded to Rei and Nuwa. “Yes, I mean everyone.”
“Anything you say, boss.”
“You count on us, Kurt sa’b.” Nuwa grinned. “We take no chances with pretty lady.”
“Hey, guys, I’m sitting here. Talk to me, not about me.” Chelsea softened the demand with a smile. She got along well with both the Sherpas.
“We take no chances—full stop—and make sure we come back down with everyone we went up with, plus two bodies. Our biggest problem, once we recover them, is how we get the Chaplins’ bodies to Camp Four. The route up the Southwest Face isn’t a place for porters.” He nodded over to the group of men around a second fire heating up the midday meal. “In all probability, some of these guys will feel the bodies should remain where they are, in the lap of the goddess.”
He hadn’t discussed this next detail with Chelsea, but he hoped she would agree with the point he was going to make and that the Sherpas would pass it on to the porters. He glanced at her before he began, and as the explanation took shape in his mind he realized it probably wasn’t far from the truth. “Chaplin sa’b and his wife were very important people in America. There is much money involved, but the lawyers won’t be able to agree to anything unless we recover their bodies. They’ll want proof.”
Kurt hated to put a mercenary connotation on Chelsea’s insistence that Bill and Atlanta’s remains had to be recovered. He’d heard the worst stories of hassles over the division of family property and the feuds that could result.
An icy coldness filled his insides as if the goddess herself had come down from the mountain and put her hand on his innards.
He’d watched Chelsea fool Basie Serfontien.
Was she a better actress than he’d thought? Had he been manipulated by a pro? Seduced into helping her? She’d been very quick to tell him she didn’t know who would benefit from the deaths, as if it didn’t matter to her.
Damn, he didn’t like the direction his thoughts were taking. Just as well he had called the shots and said their relationship had nowhere to go. He might have made an even bigger fool of himself, with the way she made him feel.
Look before you leap.
Hell, for all his protests he’d jumped in boots and all, with both feet. When Drago’s plans had fallen apart, their grandmother’s philosophy had been Money begets money, boy. You didn’t have nothing but your brain and a nose for a good wine. It wasn’t meant to be.
All Kurt had was a run-down lodge and the will to make it work.
It was time he remembered that.
But he’d give half of all he owned to know why Chelsea was so insistent on risking her life to help recover her sister when she had the money to pay other people—people like him—to do the job for her.
Finished with her meal, Chelsea went back to the tent where she had slept alone last night. After sharing the one-room shack with Kurt, a guy who took up a lot of room, she felt the tent left too much open space around her. At last she’d borrowed the satellite phone from Kurt and had the privacy to use it. All she had to do was explain why it could be another month before she returned to work, if ever.
Since they had reached Base Camp, with Mount Everest looming ever larger, her experience on Ama Dablam felt like dipping her toe in the sea to find out if she could swim.
What if, like Atlanta and Bill, she never came down again? Atlanta had made sure cousin Arlon’s misdeeds would be punished by passing on the knowledge to her. She needed to do the same.
There was only one man she could think of to tell. Mac. Those who knew him thought Mac was part of the embassy staff. Fewer than six people knew he was one of the top agents IBIS had, and they weren’t allowed to tell anyone. No one would dare—the punishment was too severe.
She had made sure to wait long enough to make up for the time difference, and even if she was a little early she was sure Mac would be at his desk. He lived and breathed for the bureau. He might not approve of her plans but she needed at least one more person in the loop—and who could you trust with a secret if not a guy who lived by them? She might not be a field agent, but she learned all the secrets as she translated them into English and from there into code to be passed on to Jason Hart in Washington, D.C.
It took a few minutes to get through to Mac’s number from the embassy operator. His extension number changed randomly every few weeks, and she had no idea of the new one. Collecting Mac’s number in case she had to call him hadn’t been top of her to-do list before she’d hightailed it onto the first plane to Bangkok.
Mac McBride looked up from the computer screen and gave in to the insistent ring of the phone. “McBride here.”
“Mac, is that really you?” The voice had a hollow echo to it—must be a bad line. “This is Chelsea Tedman speaking, I didn’t know your new extension and it feels like I’ve been through a dozen operators. Are you still in Paris?”
“Hey, Chelsea. Never mind about me—are you back? We expected you a week ago. Jason’s in town and he’s a bit antsy about you not calling in.” Mac swiveled his chair slightly to look over his shoulder. Jason Hart was silhouetted in the blue-gray light of more than a dozen computer screens. The Intelligence Bureau for International Security was Jason Hart’s brainchild. They had offices and agents all around the world and were opening more. The agents came from a group of aligned nations, which had come together to fight terrorism of any form both within their borders and without.
“I’m not. I’m halfway up Everest. And in case something happens—”
“What do you mean, in case something happens?” Mac kept his voice low but urgent as he straightened in his chair and swiveled back to face his desk. “Are you in trouble?”
“Maybe, I don’t know. See what you think. Let me tell you the reason I’m about to climb a mountain.” She then proceeded to tell him about the letter, Maddie and the circumstances of Maddie’s death. He already knew about her sister and Bill. The news about cousin Arlon really snagged his attention. “Damn it, Chelsea. Why didn’t you come to me about this before you left?”
“I thought I could handle it. You know me….”
“Yeah, I do. You never ask for help unless you’re forced into it.” He glanced over his shoulder. Jason was heading toward him, drawn no doubt by edgy vibes he was giving off. The guy missed very little. That’s why he was the best at what he
did.
Chelsea began to explain. “On the flight to Kathmandu I started thinking what if it wasn’t an accident?”
Jason’s shadow crossed Mac’s computer screen. He looked up at him and mouthed, “Wait one” as Chelsea carried on. “I’m sure I can trust Kurt Jellic, the guide who climbed with Atlanta and Bill, but I didn’t think it would be wise to mention the key to anyone.”
“You’ve done the right thing. Best to keep knowledge like that to yourself. Of course, you’ve realized what this means or you wouldn’t be there.” He signaled to Jason to pick up the extension as he said, “Tedman Foods have processing plants in nearly every state. If it goes down we’re talking major disaster.”
“I’ll give you all the information I have on the safety deposit box, and if the worst happens you can deal with it.”
“Jason’s listening in. Do you have time to go through it all again?”
When she’d finished, Jason said, “You know, Chelsea, we could do this without you climbing Mount Everest, could have done this without you traveling to Nepal.”
“I knew you’d say that. Maybe that’s why I didn’t call sooner. But my sister and I have unfinished personal business between us needing attention. And this is the only chance I’m going to get.”
“Okay, we won’t pry, but like your sister said, watch your back. I’m no more a believer in coincidence than she was, and this scenario stretches beyond that. I’m going to hand you back to Mac now. Tell him what you need and when you need it.”
“I can pay.”
“I know you can, Chelsea, but you’re one of us, and I think what you’re working on just might come under the heading of a national emergency. Tell Mac the rest and let him deal with it.”
“Okay, Mac, I need to find out about helicopters. I saw some at the airport at Shyangboche when I arrived. I’m not sure how high those babies can fly. I know they’ll ferry supplies up as far as Base Camp where we are now at five and a half thousand meters, but I’m not sure if the air will be too thin another thousand meters or more higher. That’s where the bodies are lying. Once I’ve done this, I don’t want to come back and leave my sister and her husband on the mountain, and the terrain is pretty difficult—crevasses and such.”
Stranded with a Stranger Page 12
