Page 77 of When the Silence Breaks

With God’s help.

Because Ryder had no doubt it would take a miracle. In the meantime, he had no choice but to make sure he and Sarah had the best chance of survival. He focused on the task set before him.

Get into that plane without killing anyone. “We need to find an entry point,” he said.

“The hatch looks to be just here but under the snow line.” Smith again.

Ryder glanced toward where the forward crew door should’ve been, just ahead of the wing. With the angle of the plane’s position, the door was practically beneath the plane, buried under several feet of ice and drift, so digging there would waste precious time. The hatch gave them the fastest shot into the fuselage. “Then the hatch it is. Can your men dig a trench?”

Maddox got on his radio and instructed his team. Everything they did could risk shifting the fuselage in the wrong direction, then again the ice and snow were packed so solid and hard, maybe not.

Five additional men had joined the group around the plane. It took twenty minutes of digging to clear a spot before Ryder finally lowered himself into the trench. He knelt by the fuselage and ran his gloved hand along the iced-over metal to find what he believed was a faint seam that ran along the underside.

Smith stepped forward again, holding the coiled propane hose and a handheld torch he’d pulled from his pack earlier. Maddox had come prepared for digging this plane out of the ice, whatever it took.

Were all these men part of the CIA or simply hired by Maddox or whoever was running this operation? Why couldn’t they have done this on their own time before Sarah ever got involved? But he knew the answer—her grandfather and his had left them an inheritance of secrets to confirm the crash and the location, none of which had been known until he and Sarah had broken the silence.

“You need help with that?” Ryder asked.

“This will get us through the top layer,” Smith said.

Not really an answer, but Ryder stood by to assist if needed, and in the meantime, he continued to pray for a way out of this. A way that would allow them to live—to survive.

And a way for Sarah and Jeremy and Sarah’s sister-in-law to live.

But these men had already killed her brother. Ryder didn’t see how they could afford to let Ryder, Sarah, and her family live and carry this secret around, especially when Sarah’s purpose had been to expose them. Her brother had intended as much as well and look where that got him.

The focused steam of heat hissed along the packed ice and drew his attention back to the moment.

“There’s about two inches of ice over this hatch,” Smith said. “I’m going slow, but meltwater could still run down inside the wreck.

Ryder didn’t know how that could happen, and if it could, then it would mean the wreck wasn’t sealed, and if it wasn’t sealed, removing the ice could expose them all to the bioweapon—if the containment compartment hadn’t remained sealed. This operation was much too risky. He glanced up at the tents, relieved that Sarah was inside one of them, which he assumed was kept warm. She might be safe—at least for the moment. He hadn’t known her long, but he knew her wellenough—she was using this time to calculate their next moves while he, too, was thinking things through. He just hoped she didn’t get them all killed.

Her son Jeremy was her kryptonite.

And both Jeremy and Sarah were Ryder’s. Ryder couldn’t let anyone else die on this mountain—not on his watch. He’d tried to save his father that day and instead watched him fall to his death. He pushed the morbid thoughts aside, or else they would cloud his thoughts when he had to concentrate on how to save Sarah and her son. As long as their lives were on the line, he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize their safety—until the time came for them to escape. In the meantime, he continued running through all the scenarios and all possible contingencies, formulating a plan—the same as he imagined Sarah was doing.

“I think we should get into hazmat suits before we open this up.” He should have said something to begin with.

Neither Smith nor Maddox responded, their intense focus on melting away the ice around the hatch. Dean joined them as if he was part of the team. Ryder wanted to throttle the man for helping Maddox. And if he ever saw Harlan again, he wanted to rail at the man who’d helped Maddox find Ryder and Sarah at the cabin. Harlan had been his longtime trusted friend and keeper of horses, or as Mom called Harlan, “Barn Boss.”

Dean gave him barely a nod before focusing in on the work.

“We need to dig a wider trench,” Smith said. “Widen it out and cut a three-foot buffer on either side of this so I can finish the work and we can open the hatch.”

Dean joined one of Maddox’s men, and they took to the snow with saws and shovels, cutting the required buffer on either side of the seam. Thirty minutes passed, but it seemed like an eternity. At the bottom of the plane, the snow and ice were thick and not easily removed—ice strata laid down year by yearlike the rings in a tree. But the team was getting there, one layer at a time ... and Ryder once again glanced up at the cornice, surprised they hadn’t already brought it down on their heads.

Smith finally stepped back and signaled. “This is as good as we’re going to get.”

Maddox motioned one of his men forward.

Ryder took a step back. “That door isn’t going to just open so easily. Besides—”

Smith drew a handheld saw out of his pack.

“Now, hold on.” Down in the trench, Ryder stepped between Smith and the door. “We cannot open the door yet. We need hazmat suits.”

“You’re right,” Maddox said. “Get suited up. You and Sarah can be the guinea pigs.”