Page 13 of Mountain Trial

“It should be a simple extraction. One male, not injured―not sure what’s wrong with him. Let’s see what kind of trouble he’s having.”

“Bailey and I will take a walk around and test her new snow boots,” Hiro said. “Call us if you need anything.”

The dog handler was always coming up with ideas to make sure Bailey felt comfortable in all terrains.

“Can you touch down there, Kat?” Damien asked.

Kat nodded and set the machine down as gently as she could on the snow, less than two hundred feet away from the refuge. “How’s this for door-to-door service?” she asked, smiling.

“I’m impressed,” Hiro said. “Come on, Bailey, let’s get your boots on.”

The three men and the animal exited the helicopter. Damien turned around to her. “We’ll be back in a few minutes, Kat.”

Waiting was the hardest bit for her. Maybe not so much today, when she knew the team was heading out for an easy extraction―most times, she dropped them off and knew they’d be risking their lives before getting back to the helicopter. At those times, her job was to stay close to the machine and keep it ready for take-off.

To keep herself busy, she ran through some advanced checklists. She’d always wanted to learn everything there was to know about helicopters. It still amazed Kat that, after her rough start into adulthood, she’d been able to find a career she loved so much―and one that allowed her to make a difference in people’s lives.

Less than ten minutes later, the men were back. Bailey trotted ahead of them, proudly showing off her black and red doggy snow boots.

A tall, rugged man walked between Damien and Jens. He appeared to be in good shape. Kat couldn’t figure out why he wouldn’t have walked the extra few hundred meters to the summit―they were that close―until she looked down and realized he was in his socks.

She refrained from asking any questions as she gave him a hand up into the helicopter. His big toe peeked out through the hole in one sock. Both socks left dripping marks on the cabin floor.

He must be freezing.

The man looked up at her cautiously. He was younger than she’d initially thought, though his rugged, sun-weathered face spoke of time spent outdoors.

“Somebody stole my ski boots,” he explained, in a tone which implied he’d spent the last few hours repeating that statement. “I’ve spent all day looking for them, I swear.”

Kat stared, open-mouthed. This wasn’t the kind of thing that happened on Mont Blanc.

“Thank you,” the man said, sitting down on the seat Kat pointed at. “I didn’t know if this counted as an emergency―I was worried you’d make me walk.”

“We’re not going to leave anybody walking around in their socks,” Damien said, his voice gruff. He cleared his throat. “You’ve no idea who did it?”

The man shook his head. His hair was long and shaggy. “The refuge is unstaffed for the winter. There were maybe five or six people sleeping in the winter annex last night, but they were gone this morning when I woke up. I just can’t believe ...”

He turned to look at the window. The sun was starting to set. Soon it would be completely dark. But for now, the mountain shone in gold and orange tones.

The man’s body fairly shook with the frustration of having had to stop just shy of crowning Mont Blanc.

Kat felt his impotence keenly.

“You can try again,” she said.

“I will,” the man said, nodding, “But not in winter.”

“Take us home, Kat,” Damien said.

Kat smiled. That she could do. After all, flying was what she did best in life.

Bar Barracuda was not Kat’s favorite place in town to get a beer. It was too close to the slopes, and always packed with tourists. And yet, tonight, she wouldn’t have gone anywhere else.

She looked down at her watch. It was almost eight p.m. It was tempting to blame her tardiness on the station’s fleet manager―it’d been six thirty by the time she’d checked the helicopter in―and ignore the hour she’d spent getting ready.

She looked down at herself. She was wearing slim dark blue―thankfully clean―jeans, paired with her favorite black UGG boots. A black turtleneck completed the outfit. She’d let her red hair down so it fell over her right shoulder. Her hair was one of her most attractive features, and tonight she wanted to feel attractive.

Make-up was something she rarely bothered with, so even just blush, concealer and mascara took a significant amount of time to get right.