Years of dealing with explosive devices did not prepare Mac for the helicopter's violent decent through the canopy of trees below them. Fire enveloped the helicopter as it jerked to the side. He held tightly onto Riley as she muffled a scream into his jacket. Lights blinked, alarms sounded, and pieces of twisted metal and shattered glass rained down on the back of his jacket as Mac tried his best to brace himself and Riley for impact.

The aircraft twisted and turned as it collided through the treetops below, slowing its descent before it crashed with a violent thud that tore Riley from his grip and left what remained of the helicopter twisted and dangling precariously from the thick branches of a splintered tree.

Mac, who had squeezed his eyes shut during the last moments of the crash, slowly opened his eyelids when he realized they were no longer falling and that, miraculously, he was still alive.

The man attempted to regain his bearings, but the smell of burning parts and leaking fluids overwhelmed his senses as he tried to decipher exactly how the chopper had landed. The heavy weight draped across the right side of his body and the sideways orientation of the three trunks in front of them alerted him that the helicopter had landed on its' left side. Mac moved quickly to remove the weight that confined him, quickly realizing that that weight was Riley.

Her body was lifeless, and her unruly black hair was draped over her face, sticking to her head with blood that seeped heavily through a cut that started right at her hairline.

"Riley?"

"Riley!"

"C'mon, Riley, we need to get out of here," he pleaded with the unconscious young woman as smoke continued to fill the cabin of the helicopter. She was still and so uncharacteristically silent that it was difficult to tell if she was still breathing.

If she was even still alive…

Panicked, Mac decided there was no time left for more unsuccessful attempts at rousing the young woman. He reached across her, unbuckling her safety belt and capturing her weight fully in his arms. Spotting his weekend bag tangled in the twisted metal of the broken chopper, he quickly snagged it and tossed it over his shoulder before unbuckling is own safety belt. His only means of support now taken away, he dropped out of the destroyed aircraft, halfway catching Riley in his arms as they both landed roughly onto the forest floor.

Please still be alive.

He half-carried, half-drug the dark-haired woman away from the burning helicopter as quickly as his aching body would allow. The feeling of her warm, shallow breaths across his neck as her head bobbed against his shoulder caused him to heave a sigh of relief. When he had made his way out of the smoke, Mac lifted Riley up into his arms, limping quickly away from the wreckage.

Mac deposited Riley gently onto the ground before turning back to the aircraft.

Clyde.

Mac could still see the unconscious 60-something army vet entangled in the wreckage as the fire around him burned on with fury. He quickly began making his way back to the helicopter when a powerful whoosh completely engulfed the wreckage and everything in it with massive flames that rose up past the tree line.

Mac slunk down to the ground, punching it hard before burying is head into his hands.


A pair of heavy boots stomped angrily through the halls of the Phoenix Foundation and into the war room where Matilda Webber and a member of the IT department—Jack was pretty sure her name was Janis—stared at an aerial map on the large screen in front of them. A large red X marked the spot where the helicopter carrying Mac and Riley had presumably crashed.

"What do you mean their chopper just went down, Matty!" Jack roared, "Well-maintained helicopters flown by seasoned pilots don't just go down."

Jack had been indulging in a cold brew and a movie—Unbreakable, notably not one Bruce Willis's finer performances, but he still liked to break it out of the collection from time to time—when he'd gotten the call that Mac and Riley's helicopter had crashed. No distress call, no engine failure. It was if the thing had just stopped midair and went plummeting to the ground.

"Jill narrowed down their possible location and I have a search party headed towards that area right now, Jack," Matty began. "I don't know what happened. The flight had been going fine when the helicopter completely dropped off the radar."

"But we know that it crashed?" Jack asked, pulling is hand down over his face in anguish and sinking into an armchair behind him. "It's a remote part of Canada…maybe they just lost contact."

Matty shook her head, looking dejected.

"A conservation officer in the area spotted smoke," Jill informed him. "And they would have made it to the resort by now."

"Alright," Jack said, sighing heavily and standing up from his seat. "Then we know what happens next. I'm getting my things and I'm going up there myself. Now."

"Jack," the director standing in front of him began. "We have the best recovery team B.C. has to offer on this along with a highly-trained medical team ready to assess injuries. They're keeping us updated on their progress every step of the way. Besides, by the time you've gotten there, the search team will have probably already locat-"

"These are my kids, Matty!" Jack yelled, the agony in his expression matching the hopelessness Matty was feeling over the situation. For once in his life, Jack Dalton had no problem speaking defiantly against the very intimidating Matilda Webber. "Something else is going on here! And I can't just sit back and wait and hope that just maybe they'll find them alive," his voice broke as he finished, the idea of losing either one of the young agents too overwhelming bear.

Jill and Matty exchanged a glance.

"Then we're going with you," Matty said, picking up her phone. "Wheels up in 30, Dalton."