Page 75 of When the Silence Breaks

On Ryder’s approach, Reid directed his next words to one of his gunmen. “Get their weapons and packs.”

The man retrieved the packs and tossed them over to his buddies, then removed her Sig and Ryder’s Glock before stepping away.

Now that she’d been disarmed, Reid answered her question, his words coming with a sickening smile. “Hello, Sarah. Long time.”

“You’re not ... this isn’t your field. This can’t be a sanctioned operation.”

He shook his head with an infuriating calm. “Don’t lecture me about legality when you’re the one running around with aclassified map and a stolen vial. Or did you forget you’re still under NDA?”

Stolen vial? Classified map? She clenched her fists. “That’s not ... this has nothing to do with my previous employment.” This had to do with her brother’s murder.

“Tell that to the authorities.”

From behind Reid, a new figure emerged—taller, broad-shouldered, draped in worn canvas gear that marked him immediately as a civilian.

“Dean?” Ryder’s voice cut across the snow. “Seriously? What happened to Harlan?”

“He couldn’t make this climb or handle altitude. But we have other resources.” Reid hung his head as if growing impatient.

His expression seethed, his eyes locked on Dean—former Good Adventures employee and mountain guide competition who’d tried to poach clients. Who’d tried to get Sarah’s business, actually. Now she understood why. He’d been part of it all along. And Harlan’s role? She couldn’t begin to fathom.

Dean and Ryder faced off, standing between two armed men—Reid and some other jerk, probably also CIA. Dean was no longer the polished, charming guy with an overenthusiastic smile. Instead, he appeared rough and windburned. Ryder glanced at Sarah ... was he blaming her for bringing all of this to Mercy Ridge? He wouldn’t be wrong. Except there was the matter of the map and the vial in his grandfather’s cabin, waiting for someone to find them.

“Ryder, this is a former colleague of mine, Reid Maddox.” She hoped this would give Ryder some context—he’d been right about their followers being CIA. She hadn’t wanted to believe it.

“I can’t say it’s nice to meet you,” Ryder said.

Reid’s smile didn’t waver. His feelings weren’t hurt. He didn’t care. “It’s remarkable what a little leverage can do, isn’t it?”

Sarah’s breath caught. Reid knew that she would do anything for her son, but she wouldn’t bring Jeremy up now or speak his name in front of this filth.

“Let’s move,” Reid ordered.

“Move where?” Ryder stood taller, looking stronger and bigger than she’d seen him before. “That cornice is going to let loose any minute. Don’t you get it? This area is at high risk for an avalanche.”

“Then I suggest you be very careful.”

“What exactly do you expect us to do?” Sarah asked.

Reid spoke into a radio. Men in white cold-weather tactical gear emerged from up over the crest, lugging crates and equipment. He had a whole team waiting? Her knees grew weak. They weren’t getting out of this. Would she ever see Jeremy again? But she forced herself to stand tall and strong like Ryder. With God’s help ... they could somehow survive.

Reid waved a hand. “Go ahead, Smith.”

Smith. Sarah wanted to laugh. That was always a useful nondescript name. While Reid’s team assembled a couple of tents, Smith powered up a compact GPR unit—a ground-penetrating radar used to image what lay hidden beneath the surface. Sarah stood near enough to watch as the display flickered then finally resolved into a grainy cross section. There. The shadow of the fuselage curved beneath the ice, now unmistakable. The GPR gave a good idea of the depth and exact dimensions of the wreckage—wingspan, buried sections—not just the shape they saw on the surface. They hadn’t known exactly what the craft was. Couldn’t get their hands on that information or even the manifest to know who had been on that flight. If she could have gotten that, maybe she could have determined her grandfather’s identity. But none of that mattered now.

“What’s the point of this?” she asked. As if she didn’t know.

“We need to know where to cut,” Reid said. “Like ... right there. See that hollow chamber in the midsection? You can see it’s sealed off. That could be the payload compartment.”

Ryder had been forced to shuffle closer, and he peered at the small screen. Looked like he’d forgotten about escaping these creeps too. They were both invested in this, might as well see it through. At some point, if worst came to worst, she would find a way to destroy the payload before these guys got their hands on it, for what purpose she didn’t want to imagine.

“You’re forgetting there’s a lot of debris,” Ryder said. “Things not visible, like structural integrity issues. The fuselage is buried under snow and ice. That’sunstablesnow and ice. It could collapse if you try to get in. And don’t forget about the avalanche risk.” Ryder shook his head, stared up at the cornice again. “Whatever you do, make it fast and quiet.”

“You meanyou. You’re going to go inside and get me what I want,” Reid said, his gaze shifting between Ryder and Sarah. “And I don’t need to bring up the reason why you’ll do it.” This time, his gaze remained on Sarah.

Her son. He knew she’d do anything he asked. Her heart rate kicked up even higher than it had already been beating. She didn’t bother trying to stay calm because it would be a futile effort. Maybe she could use all her rage to see them through and end this. Find Jeremy.

Smith dragged a case over and flipped it open, revealing a coiled propane hose and a handheld torch—thawing equipment.Oh, Lord ... help us!