Christina Skye - To Catch a Thief

One hour before sunset.

WIND RAKED Dakota’s neck.

Icy rain howled over the cliff overlooking the restless Sea of Hebrides.

Visibility was down to zero and already the storm was driving intermittent gusts of nearly sixty miles per hour.

Over the slope Nell MacInnes had made contact with the frightened climbers. Thanks to the howl of the wind, Dakota could only pick up one word in three, but from what he heard, Nell was dealing with the rescue quickly and by the book.

She assessed injuries, boosted morale and passed out dry trail rations and chocolate, then radioed down to the SAR leader to have transport with a medical team waiting at the foot of the mountain. The climbers were teenagers from an international school in London, and their leader, a burly ex-naval officer from Brighton, was clearly out of his element. Why he had tried the ascent was still unclear, but Dakota knew the speed of weather changes on Skye could take anyone by surprise.

He fingered his transmitter. “Alpha to Teague.”

Instantly static crackled. “Pizza to go. What can I get you, Alpha?”

“I figure a large cheese with double pepperoni is out,” Dakota said dryly. “So I’ll settle for backup medical response at the lower trailhead. One girl up here has full-blown asthma with signs of respiratory distress.”

“Roger that. I’ll wander on by to help and make sure it looks like a coincidence. What about the other climbers?”

“There are seven in all, plus their leader, Ian Westlake. He might have had a heart attack. He’s holding on, but he’s no help to anyone. Nell’s about to try guiding the able ones down and I’m going to meet her on the slope to help out.”

“Copy that. Better get the lead out, Alpha. That storm is picking up speed.”

Bad news, Dakota thought. “Roger. I’ll check back in ten. Alpha out.”

The SEAL stared across the slope. To his right a steep cliff fell away in a vertical drop straight down to the loch. To his left a lower ridge vanished into the notched teeth of the Cuillin range.

There would be no climbing down tonight.

They were on their own. No rescue chopper could land in this wind, even if any were available in this remote corner of Skye. Dakota had to help Nell hold the kids together, dig in on the ledge for the night and wait out the storm.

In exactly eight minutes he rounded a turn and saw the little group, huddled beneath a ledge. Nell was snapping out crisp orders to a gangly teenager in a brand new parka.

“Hamilton, get your pack lashed over that boulder. Then I want you and Meyerson inside your tent in sixty seconds.”

“Yes, sir. I mean ma’am.”

Once the boy’s pack was secure, he joined his terrified partner in the tent that had been pitched and tethered around stones in the lee of the wind.

What lee there was.

Another icy gust pounded over the ridge.

“Wu, secure your tent. Hernandez, get that lantern ready to help him.”

Dakota watched Nell work beside the kids, making temporary shelter. She was using their last names, which created distance and the comfort of hierarchy, making orders easier to give and follow.

He noted that two other boys were working to secure another tent to nearby boulders, with packs tied down near the tent entrance.

“Good job,” Nell called. “Now all of you get inside.”

So where were the wounded ones? Dakota wondered.

A tent flap opened. A slim girl crawled out, looking for Nell. “I found that radio you asked about, ma’am. “It’s—”

“Wilson, go back inside and take cover. This wind is—”

The rest of Nell’s order was swept away in an icy gust that screamed over the ridge, caught two unsecured backpacks and threw them into the teenage girl, knocking her into a spine of sharp granite. As her scream was swallowed by the wind, Dakota dove forward and caught her waist, pulling her away from the cliff edge. She moaned brokenly as he lifted her into his arms. Blood streamed over his fingers from a gash down the side of her forehead. Dakota noted her erratic pulse and diminished pupil response.

Neck wound and probable concussion. Internal injuries were also possible.

“Who the heck are you?” Nell blocked his way, looking angry and wary and relieved, all at the same time.

“I was climbing over on the far side of Blaven when I picked up a distress alert from the local SAR. I changed route, circled the corrie and came up to see if you needed help.”

Nell bit her lip, studying him intently. “You’re American.”

“Navy.” Dakota gave a wry smile. “This was supposed to be a little holiday until I’m redeployed out of Coronado. I wasn’t counting on the weather going all to hell.”

Nell seemed to relax slightly. “It does that a lot here. So you’re a good climber? Can you help me get these kids down?”

“I’ll do whatever I can. Say the word.” Dakota frowned. “You’re up here alone?”

“Yeah, I am. Look—it’s a long story and I don’t have time to fill in the gaps. I’m Nell MacInnes.”

“Lieutenant Dakota Smith.”

“Well, Lieutenant Smith, you can put Amanda Wilson inside this tent.” As she pointed to her right, wet sheeting snow cut off every sign of the terrain. “All of you stay in your tents and keep your backs to the rock. No one moves. Hammond, get that flap closed.”

Dakota checked his watch as the teens obeyed Nell’s terse commands. She had chosen the camp site well, bunkered down under a ledge in the narrow rift between two cliff faces.

The teenagers looked cold and confused as Nell went from tent to tent, giving calm orders. “Remember, you are fit and you are smart. We will survive this. Lieutenant Smith out there is going to help us.”

“But what about Amanda?” A younger boy cut in, his voice shrill with panic. “She hit her head. Is she going to be okay?”

“She’ll pull through.” Dakota’s voice was firm as he set the wounded girl carefully in the tent Nell had pointed out. Despite his assurances, he knew the girl was far from safe. If she had internal injuries, she might not last the night without medical intervention.

Briefly, he considered packing the wounded girl into an improvised travois and pulling her down as soon as visibility returned. But that would leave Nell alone in deteriorating conditions—and protecting Nell was his mission priority.

FUBAR.

As he rose from the tent, the wind howled over the ridge. Nell staggered, tossed sideways, and Dakota caught her quickly, his arms locked around her waist.

He felt the strength of her slim body as she fought the wind, trying to stand. “Thanks,” she rasped. “We’d better get inside.”

Beneath her safety helmet her eyes were calm and dark, the color of racing gray water through the mountains near his home in northern California. As the two squeezed inside the tent next to the girl named Amanda, Dakota pulled a silver thermal blanket out of his backpack. “Looks like you could use this. The girl’s shivering. She doesn’t seem to be breathing very well either.”

“Asthma.” Nell spread the blanket over the girl’s body and tucked it in. “Thanks again, Lieutenant—”

“Dakota will do fine.”

“Don’t suppose you’ve got a few other seasoned climbers with you who could help guide these kids down?”

“Afraid not. I’m traveling alone.”

Nell glanced at him intently. “Not many people I know climb alone.” She raised an eyebrow, waiting for his answer.

“If I wanted noise and crowds, I would have stayed in London,” he said easily. “I prefer climbing alone.”

She nodded. “I can understand that.” She unclipped a rope from her belt and wrapped it in neat coils, every movement smooth and precise.

She was definitely a professional, Dakota thought. He gave a small nod toward the motionless girl and the boy at the other side of the tent. “She needs care. The sooner the better.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Nell muttered. She turned to the other frightened teen, made a little light banter, then leaned back toward Dakota. She studied his shoulders, his high-tech boots and climbing gear. “How good are you, Lieutenant?”

“Good enough.” There was no empty boasting, just cool truth in the words.

“Then you can help me rope a safety line?”

Dakota shook his head. “Maybe you haven’t looked outside. This storm is gaining steam. I heard that sixty-mile-an-hour gusts were clocked near Portee. With windchill factored in, we—”

“We’re screwed,” Nell said quietly. “I got that much already. Right now as I see it, our only choice is to get these kids down as soon as possible. They’re not dressed for a night of wet, freezing conditions.” Short copper hair tumbled around her flushed cheeks as she leaned down to check Amanda Wilson’s pulse.

Dakota had seen that hair before. He’d seen her excited and tired. But he’d never seen her so focused or so worried, as if these kids really mattered to her. Somehow it didn’t fit with the thrill-seeker image captured in her file.

But what she was suggesting was one step short of crazy.

“You can’t get them down in a whiteout. One wrong step and they plunge into freefall, and you’ll go over with them.” Dakota kept his voice low so the others wouldn’t hear. “We’ll have to stay put.”

Nell looked down at the girl named Amanda, whose breathing was growing more labored. “I know a way. This ridge leads down to a back trail. If you help me, I can set a safety line in fifteen minutes. I can get them down one at a time after that.”

“How?”

“I’ll clip each one into a harness, secure them to the safety line and work back down to the mid-peak.”

“You’ve got only an hour of light left, and that will be pushing it.” Dakota stared out the tent flap at the gray slope. He didn’t like the risks—not for Nell or the stranded kids. “Have you ever handled a rescue like this?”

“At least a dozen times. A lot of climbers get cocky and forget that the weather up here can change on a dime. But I can get these kids down to the SAR meeting point. Trust me, I know this area pretty well.” Her mouth curved in a sudden smile, and Dakota blinked at the force of the determination. Did anyone say no to Nell MacInnes?

The danger didn’t seem to bother her, and her choices seemed logical. A good leader took controlled risks as necessary.

Dakota couldn’t help but admire her courage and her skill.

“I’ve got a radio for contact. I’ve also got this.” Nell pulled a silver whistle from inside her parka. “The SAR people will be expecting an alert once I’m close to the bottom of the safety line. I’ll hand off each teenager and then head back up.” She smiled gamely and gave an experimental whistle. “But if we’re going to do this, it has to be now.”

Dakota had to admit that her plan made sense, especially since staying put offered a risk of exposure and hypothermia.

But habit was habit. A SEAL never trusted any plan he hadn’t tested himself. Watching on the sidelines wasn’t in a SEAL’s job description.

He had to keep Nell safe.

But he couldn’t let any of these kids die in the process.

He watched Nell slide her climbing rope through her fingers, testing each coil. The fibers were smooth with no frays, clearly well tended.

She tugged on fingerless climbing gloves, frowning. “Look, Lieutenant—”

“Dakota.”

“We have to move, Dakota. In twenty minutes we really will be boxed in here. Do you want to save these kids or not?”

“I want to see all of you get down safely.”