Page 27
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Graham Elliott
June 2025
Wednesday — 11:43 pm
G raham brought the rental car to a stop in front of the temporary command center. Despite the late hour, the Alaskan sky remained in an eerie twilight, with clouds starting to clear just before the fleeting summer night was set to arrive. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel tightly, but he soon relaxed his hold, making sure to appear calm before turning off the engine.
Brook was trapped somewhere in that mountain.
Every minute that passed without action was another minute she might not have.
He stepped out of the sedan, searching for a specific individual. The temperature had dropped to the forties, and a slight breeze carried the scent of wet earth and pine from the dense forest that bordered the mountain base.
Fortunately, there was no rain in the forecast that could dampen the rescue efforts.
Several LED work lights and high-intensity floodlights were arranged around a small perimeter. Although their use would be brief due to the limited hours of darkness during this season, the bright light assisted in illuminating a portable table where individuals were scrutinizing multiple maps.
The person he was searching for wasn’t amidst the commotion.
The sight ahead was a structured frenzy, with groups of uniformed personnel gathered around maps, while gear was being meticulously sorted and checked. Graham identified the familiar motions of a rescue operation.
On his drive in from the main road to the clearing, Graham had passed a roadblock where state troopers were turning away news vans and curious locals. A female trooper with a stern expression had waved him through only after he had identified himself and shown his ID.
The media containment was necessary. The last thing a complex rescue needed was for reporters to trample the area and broadcast speculation that more agents had been killed today.
Graham spotted the Forest Service rangers clad in olive green uniforms, Alaska State Troopers in blue, and members of the Alaska Mountain Rescue Group wearing their recognizable red jackets. A team from the technical rescue unit of the National Park Service was also present. Among the crowd were FBI agents, who didn’t require the iconic yellow letters to make their presence known.
He shifted his gaze from cluster to cluster, searching for a particular lanky frame and perpetual beanie. If anyone had reliable information on Brook's situation, it would be Bit. The kid's ability to gather information surpassed that of anyone Graham had the privilege of working with throughout his military career, and that was saying something.
After a second scan confirmed that Bit wasn't among the planning groups, Graham approached an FBI agent who stood slightly apart, talking on his cell phone. The man ended his call just as Graham reached him.
“I'm looking for Bit Nowacki,” Graham stated, doing his best to keep his voice level despite the urgency thrumming through his veins. “From S&E Investigations.”
“The tech guy? With the grey beanie?” The agent pointed across the field to where a few black SUVs were parked at an angle. “Over there. He's been working in his vehicle since I arrived.”
Graham nodded his thanks before striding across the trampled grass of the clearing. His heavy boots, hastily pulled on during the flight, compressed the soft ground beneath him. Fortunately, he still had his original bag packed from yesterday.
The private jet had afforded him the convenience of landing at a small airstrip, located thirty miles from the mountain, instead of losing valuable time dealing with commercial connections. He received Bit's message about this afternoon's events while in the air.
Graham had been in situations like this one before. He understood that the Alaska Mountain Rescue Group would be the primary coordinators, working alongside the FBI. They would bring in specialists from the National Cave Rescue Commission, as well.
Ice caves presented unique challenges.
The explosion had complicated things exponentially, and structural integrity would be their first concern. Rescuers would need to determine if additional collapses were likely, and they would work with glaciologists to map potential routes and identify hazards.
An assessment team with specialized equipment would need to be sent in, but only if another entrance could be found. From Bit’s message, there was one on the other side of the mountain. Ground-penetrating radar would be needed to map the cave system, thermal imaging to detect body heat, and acoustic devices to listen for survivors.
Brook was a survivor.
Graham wouldn’t contemplate any other scenario.
Only after the situation was assessed would they send in the actual rescue team, equipped with ice climbing gear, medical supplies, and communication equipment designed to function in the depths of the glacier.
But all of that would take time.Hours, possibly days.
That was time that Brook and the others might not have. As Graham neared Bit's SUV, he clenched his jaw at the thought. The driver's door was ajar, and the interior light illuminated the young man’s slumped figure. So engrossed in the content on his laptop, he failed to notice Graham coming closer.
“Bit.”
No response.
Bit's fingers continued to enter commands on the keyboard, his oblong face bathed in the blue glow of the screen. An energy drink was in the center console beside him, and crumpled candy wrappers littered the passenger seat.
“Bit,” Graham repeated, louder this time.
Bit's head snapped up, his eyes wide and bloodshot. Recognition flooded his face, followed immediately by a relief so profound it transformed his features. He quickly set the laptop aside on the dashboard. What he did next left Graham speechless.
“General.” Bit’s voice cracked slightly as he scrambled out of the vehicle. “Am I glad to see you.”
Bit wrapped his long arms around Graham's torso in a tight embrace.
The unexpected physical contact froze him momentarily.
Graham gradually lowered his arms and awkwardly patted Bit on the back. He was concerned about Brook and had been alone today after being part of a team for the last three to four years. Although tough decisions had to be made, he managed the situation effectively.
“We'll get her out,” Graham said, his voice firm with a confidence he willed himself to feel. “It looks as if the rescue operation is already forming. They know what they're doing.”
Bit pulled back, using the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe his face.
“What if she didn't survive the?—”
“Don't,” Graham interrupted abruptly, refusing to let the idea take shape into words. “I’d sense it if something like that occurred. Our focus should be on what we know, not on our fears. Brook is resourceful and has encountered tougher challenges than this.”
“If I’m right, Jacob has had years to plan this. He knows those tunnels like the back of his hand,” Bit said as he lifted his laptop and settled back into the driver’s seat of the SUV. The screen was filled with topographical maps and what appeared to be thermal imaging data. “I’ve pulled up some diagrams that he might have had access to back in 2014. These ice caves are known to shift over time, but the main tunnels should still be the same.”
“Then it’s a good thing Brook knows how he thinks.” Graham grabbed the side of the door. “You mentioned in your message that the ice cave goes through the mountain. Sylvie and Theo are still on the other side, right?”
“A team reached the cabin hours ago. Forensics finished about thirty minutes ago, collecting…well, you know. They are in the process of transporting the evidence down the mountain now.”
“But Sylvie and Theo are still on site?”
“Little T radioed me about five minutes ago. They were getting ready to head down the mountain themselves. I figure they’ll be here within the next couple of hours.”
Graham gestured toward the satellite radio on the dashboard.
“Ask them to stay.”
Bit studied Graham for a moment before reaching for the device.
“What are you thinking, General?”
“The teams nearby are determining the safest way into the ice cave, considering Brook and the others' current positions. Standard rescue protocols aim to reduce risks for both the victims and the rescuers. Hours have passed without a consensus on a method.” Graham cast Bit a challenging look. “They aren’t thinking the way Brook is.”
“Because Boss’ first instinct is to rely on the profile. Keeping Jacob contained in one spot for that many hours gives him too much of an advantage, doesn’t it?” Bit quickly turned back to his laptop. He shifted it so that Graham could get a better visual of the screen. “And if we’re assuming that Jacob knows those passageways, then Boss isn’t on this side of the mountain anymore. Depending on the tunnel system, it would take them seven to ten hours, which means that she and the others are probably already closing in on the other exit.”
“That’s right, Bit.” Graham motioned for Bit to get out of the SUV. “You contact Sylvie and Theo while I drive. We’ll let the assessment team continue with their plans just in case we’re wrong.”
Bit closed his laptop and scrambled out of the driver’s seat. He made his way around the front of the SUV while Graham slid in behind the wheel. He closed the driver's door firmly before starting the engine. Fortunately, the vehicle's dash displayed a full tank of gas.
“While you’re on the radio, make sure there are two ATVs ready for us in Silverton. With the forensics team already on the way down the mountain, that shouldn’t be a problem.”
Graham maneuvered the SUV around the perimeter of the command area, steering clear of the central activity. A state trooper at the edge of the clearing shot them a questioning glance but did not attempt to stop them. As they finally pulled onto the main road and passed the media vans, Graham allowed his thoughts to shift to Brook.
She was smart, resourceful, and knew Jacob better than anyone else on earth.
It wasn’t the treacherous landscape of the ice cave that would pose a difficulty for Brook. It was the duplicitous psychological terrain of her brother's mind. She would need to use his narcissism against him if she were to reach both finish lines.