Page 58 of Mountain Struggle

“I’m not a graphologist,” she said, shaking her head. Her brown curls bobbed up and down. “He blames you, specifically, for something that happened five years ago—something that ruined their life. Without knowing what that was, it’s hard to—”

Damien nodded. “Drake, I’ve asked the team to gather for a conference call in just under forty minutes. Ask them to find all files that match that period, please.”

Drake nodded tightly and left the room.

“What else?”

“It’s very personal. But you know that already. Not just because the letter came addressed to you, but because of the words themselves.”

Isolde re-read the letter with emphasis on certain words. “Five years ago you ruined my life. Now I’m going to do the same to you. Nobody you love will ever be safe.”

Damien raked his fingers through his hair. “I need to find this person, Isolde. I have a son—and a woman who means more to me than my own life. I can’t let them get hurt. What would you do in my shoes?”

“Here’s what I would do, Damien, and again, this is my personal recommendation—I’m not equipped to give you a professional opinion. I’d go through all the cases from between four and six years ago, to allow for people’s skewered perception of time. It has to be a case that you were personally involved in. The writer uses the word ruined, so I’d look for cases where somebody died, or was very seriously injured—a child, an adult … it could even be a pet.”

Damien nodded. Everything she was saying made sense.

“And I would keep your girlfriend and son under constant watch, Damien. I don’t need to tell you how unbalanced this individual sounds.”

“Thanks for your help, Isolde.”

She stood up and straightened her clothes. “Let me know if I can help with anything else.”

#

Damien looked around the conference room, where Drake, Kat, Gael and Hiro sat, poring through case documents.

On the center of the large table stood three piles—a large, teetering pile of files they still had to go through, and two smaller piles, one with the cases that didn’t match what they were looking for, either because nobody had been hurt or because he hadn’t been personally involved, and a second one with files that warranted a closer look.

Other teams had offered to support them, but Damien thought it better to limit it to his team alone for now—while Kat and Gael hadn’t been part of the team five years earlier, they were all used to Search and Rescue work. They knew, where other teams might not, the types of cases they were called out on, and which ones posed greater or lesser risk.

Damien dropped the file he was looking at into the not-to-worry-about pile and paced the conference room. Five years ago he’d been a lieutenant, working alongside Drake, Jens, and several other colleagues who’d since left the department or become PGHM trainers, like their old commander. He looked at Bailey, lying so quietly at Hiro’s feet. Five years ago she hadn’t even been born yet.

Damien clenched his hands into fists. This was like looking for a needle in a haystack. The Chamonix PGHM responded to over twelve hundred calls a year. His team alone responded to over four hundred calls.

“Commandant?” a voice asked. Damien looked up to see Colonel Pelegrin sticking his gray head through the door. Damien walked outside to meet his boss. “Colonel,” he said formally.

“Do you need anything, Damien?” the older man said. Damien was reminded again of how lucky he was to work with the people he worked with.

“We’re still going through the files. I’ll let you know what we come up with, Colonel.”

“And somebody is with your son?”

“Jens Melkopf is with him,” Damien said. He’d been in touch with Jens regularly since the man had arrived at his home. Damien wasn’t taking any chances.

“Good, good. Anything we can do to support, let us know. Please focus on this. The other two teams know what’s going on, they’ll run any rescues themselves until further notice.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Damien said. He walked back into the conference room, where Kat was now pacing the room, looking pale.

“Kat?” Damien asked worriedly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, raising her eyes to meet his. “It’s just—hard, thinking about all the times we lost someone. You try to put it aside, in your day-to-day, but to see them now, all the people we failed—”

Damien grasped the younger woman’s arm. “Hey. We save hundreds of people each year. It’s hard to lose some, but think of the people who wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for us,” he said, pointing to the pile of successful rescues.

An instant later, Bailey was up as well, licking Kat’s free hand. The dog was perceptive. Kat smiled and ruffled Bailey’s hair affectionately.

“I’ll keep going. I just need a minute first—” she said, extricating herself from his hold gently.