Page 50 of Mountain Impact

“You do realize one of those men is the same one we warned away from the mountain just this morning, right? The one who told us he’d be back home and watching TV before the storm broke.”

“Yeah, and we managed to extract him and his friend just in time. So they will get to watch TV tonight―even if they get to do it from a hospital room,” Hiro said laconically.

“That was too close,” Drake said. “Had they called us just a few minutes later, there’s no way Kat would have been able to fly close enough. And they weren’t equipped to survive the night at four thousand meters.”

It’d been close. The wind and rain currently pummeling the SUV were nothing compared to what the storm was like higher up the mountain, where Kat had been flying. Had she been unable to approach, they would have had to launch a trekking rescue expedition to the Dome de Goûter, which would have meant walking half the night in bad visibility and fresh snow, with no guarantee of finding the climbers alive.

Damien’s hands gripped the steering wheel.

“You’re in a foul mood, Drake,” Gael laughed. “Glad Jens is the one who rode with them in the helicopter, rather than you.”

Drake grunted in response to the teasing.

He was in a foul mood. He hadn’t been able to see Isolde earlier that day, since she’d been working from home.

Maybe he could stop by and―

His phone chimed a couple times as it picked up reception again. Drake fished it out of his sodden pocket, glad once again that he’d gotten a water-proof phone. He had two missed calls, both from Isolde. That was unusual―she rarely, if ever, called him during the day.

Maybe she’s heard that I stopped by to see her at lunchtime.

He checked his voicemail service in case she’d left a message.

The sound of her voice thrilled him, but as he listened to her words, an unfamiliar weight settled on his chest. He wasn’t ashamed to admit his first thoughts weren’t for Amélie Omont―his concern was all for Isolde, who’d taken off for the mountains just before the storm broke.

Perhaps the chairlift was closed, perhaps she never made it―

That hope died as he listened to her second voice mail message. In this one, Isolde sounded slightly out of breath.

I’m at the top of the chairlift. Amélie isn’t here. I’m going to go ask inside. I’ll call you when I know more.

Drake gripped the phone tighter. He pressed the button to get to the next message. This time, Isolde’s voice didn’t make his heart beat faster. His heart was feeling too cold for that.

She’s gone, Drake. I think she’s trying to find the spot where Pierre jumped. I know you and the team are probably busy but … if any of you are nearby, can you please call me back?

“Fuck.”

“What’s going on, Drake?” Damien asked quietly, not taking his eyes off the road.

Drake looked at the time. Five p.m. The message had been left almost two hours earlier.

“Isolde went up to the Bossons to find Amélie Omont, Pierre Omont’s widow. Amélie was apparently threatening self-harm.”

His friends muttered expletives under their breath. None of them had been close friends with Pierre Omont, but theirs was the kind of job where you bonded together. They all felt a responsibility to ensuring Pierre’s wife didn’t come to harm.

He called Isolde. The phone rang, and rang, and eventually went to voicemail. He didn’t bother leaving a message.

“Fuck,” Drake repeated.

“She went up in this storm?” Gael asked.

“Hell,” Hiro said.

Drake nodded. In his mind, he was already running through the different ways he could get to the Bossons Glacier. “Can you drop me off at the bottom of the chairlift, please? I need to get up.”

“They’re probably closed already, Drake, given the weather,” Damien said.

“Fuck.” Drake ran a hand through his hair. “Okay. Drop me off as close as you can to Le Mont. I’ll walk.”