Ice (12 page)

“Yes, sir,” John said, taking a sip of the whisky.

“Sit,” Blake said, motioning to a chair in the room as he sat behind his desk.

Taking a seat, Harper remained quiet and watched as Gregory Blake struggled to hold onto his emotions. It was clear that the man was trying to be strong, but the look in his eyes said it all. He was devastated.

A few minutes passed in silence until finally, John Harper rose to his feet. “Perhaps I should leave now.”

“I’ll need some information before you go,” Gregory said in a whisper. “The funeral home will need to know where to go…where to go to get my daughter.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Blake, but...but we haven’t found her yet.”

Looking up from his glass, Blake said, “Excuse me?”

Déjà vu. The feeling that occurs when you believe that you’ve witnessed or experienced the current situation once before, and it was the feeling now washing over John Harper. Taking a deep breath, he sat back down and looked over at Gregory Blake. “Your daughter and another officer were on an airplane that went down in a storm. We haven’t yet been able to make it to the crash site to retrieve their…to bring them home.”

“Then how do you know they’re dead?” Blake asked, studying the man across the way. “And what do you mean a storm? The UK has been clear all week.”

“They were assisting Interpol on a small mission, and their flight took them into Canada.”

Gregory Blake paled. He had watched the news just that morning, and terms like
storm of the century
and
the blizzard to end all blizzards
had been bandied about on almost every station. Weather maps flashed red as forecasters predicted temperatures well below freezing and winds well above gale force. At the time, it seemed unimportant. Although he had sympathized with those living thousands of miles away as he had sat sipping his coffee in his conservatory that morning, the tragic events unfolding on his television screen hadn’t been personal…until now.

Getting up, he walked over and picked up a silver-framed photograph of his daughter. Running his finger over the glass, a hundred memories flooded his mind. Her birth, her first steps, and her first day at school. Her enthusiasm when she had joined the Met and her excitement when she had solved her first case. But most of all, he remembered her strength. No task had ever been too tough for her, and he couldn’t remember Alex once admitting defeat. It wasn’t in her nature. It wasn’t in her genes…and it certainly wasn’t in his.

Carefully returning the frame to the bookcase, he turned around and stared at John Harper. “Pardon my impertinence, but I don’t believe you.”

Confused, Harper said, “Excuse me?”

“Unless you can give me absolute proof that Alexandra is dead, then she isn’t,” Blake stated firmly as he went back to his desk and sat down. “Now, when will you be able to get to them?”

“Um…I’m sorry to say that we won’t be able to get anywhere near the crash site for weeks.”

“Weeks!”

“The storm—”

“I know all about the bloody storm!” Blake shouted. “It’s all over the airwaves, for God’s sake, but that’s not an answer to my question. That’s an excuse!”

“Sir, you don’t understand. Until the weather breaks, we can’t risk sending someone—”

“You risked my daughter’s life by sending her there, you bloody buffoon!” Blake screamed, getting to his feet.

John Harper had always considered himself an even-tempered man, and when he had made the decision to tell the families of Maggie Campbell and Alexandra Blake about their deaths, he knew it wouldn’t be easy. However, he hadn’t anticipated being called incompetent, and his composure slipped a notch, or perhaps two.

Rising to his feet, he glared at Gregory Blake. “Do you honestly believe that I would have allowed them to make that trip if I had thought for one instant that they would be in danger? I know how to do my job!”

“Well, as long as your job includes putting people in harm’s way, then I’d say you’re doing a bang-up job of it!”

“I’m not the one that convinced an agent to go against direct orders!” Harper barked back.

Blake opened his mouth to reply and then shut it just as quickly. Confused by Harper’s outburst, he narrowed his eyes. “What did you say?”

Harper’s shoulders fell as he realized his mistake, and letting out a long breath, he said, “I think I should leave.”

“What do you mean that I wasn’t the one that convinced an agent to go against orders?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it bloody well does. Now tell me the truth…please.”

With a heavy sigh, Harper sat back down and took a sip of his drink. Unable to raise his eyes to meet those of Alexandra Blake’s father, Harper stared at the floor as he began to talk.

“Due to the blizzard, communications with the rest of my people in Canada have been limited, but we’ve learned that the officer who was with your daughter was ill, and apparently her condition required a hospital. Your daughter convinced one of my most seasoned agents to go against orders and fly them out.”

The sound of Gregory Blake’s laughter filled the room, and stunned, Harper’s head snapped up. “Are you all right, sir?”

“The poor bastard didn’t stand a chance,” Blake said as he continued to chuckle.

“Excuse me?”

“You obviously don’t know my daughter very well.”

“You’re right, I don’t. We only met the other day when I gave her the assignment.”

Still wearing a wide smile, Blake got up and retrieved a book from a nearby shelf. Walking over, he dropped the dictionary in Harper’s lap.

“Look up the word pigheaded in there, and you’ll find a picture of my daughter,” Blake said. “Alex is as stubborn as the day is long. Coupled with the fact that she would never stand idly by and watch somebody suffer tells me that your agent, orders or not, didn’t have a choice.”

“She’s that hardheaded?”

“You have absolutely no idea,” Gregory replied. Pulling over a nearby chair, he sat down next to Harper, and pausing a moment to get his thoughts in order, he said, “I’m a wealthy man, and if money is one of the reasons that you can’t—”

“I assure you that it’s not,” John interrupted. “I promise you that as soon as the weather breaks, I’ll fly a team in.”

“Why can’t they try it on foot? Surely those trained in rescue—”

“Sending anyone in on foot would only put more people in peril. The storm is still raging, and even after the snow stops falling, which I’m told won’t be for another few days, we still have the wind to contend with, and the last radar forecast showed another smaller storm moving in. I’m afraid that we’re just going to have to wait until the weather clears before sending in a search party.”

“But by then it could be too late. I mean, they could manage to stay alive for a few days if the plane was intact. They’d be able to stay warm for a little while, but—” His words were cut off by the sound of a mobile phone ringing, and Gregory watched as Harper pulled one from his pocket.

Glancing at the screen, Harper rose to his feet. “I’m sorry, but I need to take this.”

“Of course,” Gregory said, emptying what was left in his glass in one swallow. “I’ll pour myself another scotch.”

Several minutes passed before John Harper walked back into the room, but when he did, the rather pensive look on the his face, caused Gregory Blake to sit up in his chair. “You’ve heard something, haven’t you?”

Without saying a word, Harper walked over and retrieved his drink from the end table. Taking a sip, he said, “I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

“It’s too late for that,” Gregory answered anxiously. “Now, what is it?”

“We know where the plane is because of the transmitter on board. I’ve had my entire department studying every map and satellite photo they can get their hands on so when the time comes, we’ll know what we’re up against.”

“And?”

“They’ve come across a map showing…showing a few cabins in the area where they crashed.”

“Cabins!”

Hearing the exuberance in the man’s voice, Harper said, “Please, I don’t want you to read more into this than there is. The cabins are nearly three miles away from where the plane went down, and they would have had to find them in the dark, after walking for hours through a forest in a snowstorm.”

“That doesn’t mean they couldn’t have done it.”

“It’s highly unlikely.”

“Unlikely doesn’t mean impossible.”

Snorting at the man’s determination, Harper said, “I see where your daughter gets her tenaciousness.”

The comment brought a grin to Gregory’s face. Motioning for Harper to sit down, Gregory said, “I know that you probably think me a fool to believe that my daughter is still alive, but I can’t yet imagine her any other way. She’s my little girl, and as long as there’s a glimmer of hope, one minuscule chance that she could have survived and found shelter, then I must beg you that as soon as humanly possible you begin your search.”

“Why would you think I wouldn’t?”

“Because you believe you’re looking for a body, and I believe you’re not.”

***

“Don’t bother,” Maggie said as she weakly tried to push away Alex’s hand.

“The bandage is wet. I need to change it,” Alex said, reaching for the soaked gauze.

“I said, don't bother,” Maggie repeated, pulling the quilt over the bandage.

With a sigh, Alex said, “Why are you being like this?”

“I don’t want you to waste your time on me. You need to take care of yourself.”

“What makes you think I’m not?”

Through half-open eyes, Maggie looked back at her. “Because you look like shit.”

Raising one eyebrow, the tiniest of grins appeared on Alex’s face. Thinking for a moment, she said, “I’ll attribute that remark to the fever.”

“I’m serious. You’re exhausted. You need to get some sleep.”

“I’m fine, and when you sleep, I sleep.”

“But fairly soon, I’m not going to wake up, so do yourself a favor and stop fighting a losing battle,” Maggie said feebly.

“I don’t think of it as a losing battle,” Alex stated as she raised the bedspread and quickly removed the wet bandage. “And I refuse to sit back and just watch you die.”

“You don’t know what you’re up against.”

“Yes, I do,” Alex said firmly, glaring at Maggie. “It’s a fever, Campbell. A bloody fucking fever brought on by the flu. Your body goes into overdrive to fight it, and your fever spikes. I get that! But what you don’t get is that what I’m doing is working. It’s been almost two days since we crashed, and you’re still here!”

“How long was I asleep this last time?”

“What?”

“How long was it before my fever spiked, and you had to carry me back into the bathroom?”

Shrugging her shoulders, Alex said, “I don’t know. Maybe three or four hours. Why?”

“And the time before that?”

“I wasn’t really keeping track. Maybe five or…” Alex stopped for a moment. “It’s happening more often, isn’t it?”

“Yes, and soon it won’t come back down, no matter how much snow you pile on top of me.”

“You don’t know that!”

Struggling to keep her eyes open, Maggie replied, “Yes, I do, and since I don’t know if I’m going to wake up again—”

“Stop staying that!”

Shutting her eyes for a moment, Maggie fought the urge to fall back into darkness. Taking a long, deep breath, her eyes fluttered open. “Please...I…I need to ask you a favor. Please…please just listen to me.”

Steadfast in her belief that the woman would not die, Alex rolled her eyes at the sound of Maggie’s whispered plea, and in a huff, crossed her arms. “Fine, what’s the favor?”

“When it…when it happens, find someplace safe for me.”

Confused, Alex wrinkled her brow. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“We’re in a forest, right?”

“Yeah, out in the middle of nowhere as far as I can tell. Why?”

“I don’t want…I don’t want the animals to find me.”

Alex’s mouth dropped open, and looking toward the ceiling, she fought to restrain her temper. Taking a deep breath, she snapped, “Jesus Christ! You have got to stop—”

“Please, just promise me.”

“You are not going to die!” Alex said, rising to her feet.

Teary-eyed and whimpering, Maggie begged again. “Please…just promise me…oh, please…my father...my father—”

Maggie’s tears were Alex’s undoing. In an instant, her anger disappeared and compassion took its place. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she took Maggie’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Sshhh…sshhh…it’s okay. It’s okay, Maggie.”

“Just promise—”

Alex’s eyes filled with tears, and in a ragged breath, replied, “I promise, Maggie. I promise the animals won’t get to you.”

***

Alex stared at the empty bottle of the aspirin in her hand. She had managed over the past day to spoon-feed four bottles of aspirin-laced water to her unconscious patient, and between coughs and sputters, Maggie had swallowed it all, but now the over-the-counter medicine was gone. Alex hadn’t beaten the odds; she had just prolonged their arrival.

While the cold baths had worked to cool Maggie’s temperature, within a few hours of being placed back in the bed, her fever would rage again. Over the past twenty-four hours, Alex had carried the woman into the bathroom six more times, and each time it had taken Maggie longer to return to consciousness.

Grabbing the old, dusty blanket that had been draped over one of the chairs, Alex fingered the thick, woven fabric as her thoughts returned to the promise she had made to Maggie. Her eyes filling with tears, she tossed the blanket aside. Appalled that she had just allowed herself to think about how best to store Maggie’s body, Alex threw the empty water bottle across the room.

Setting her jaw, Alex growled, “She is not going to die! You have never given up on anything in your life, and you’re not going to start now. Now, think, Alex…think!”

All of a sudden, the sound of Maggie’s moans came from the bedroom. In an instant, Alex was on her feet and running down the hall. Stopping in the doorway, her heart sank. Fighting invisible demons, Maggie flailed on the bed. Her body was covered in sweat, and her face had turned deadly white.