Whiteout

Chapter 10

The wind was howling like a beast, an unending dull roar swirling around her, buffering her this way and that. Beckett clenched her teeth beneath the black ski mask and tightened her grip on the red rope line, digging her boots into the hard, compacted snow underneath her. She swayed slightly as she adjusted to the external force of the wind, regaining her balance.

Carefully moving her gloved hands forward, Beckett started her hike across the ice. She squinted through the tinted goggles, ducking her head down against the sheer strength of the wind, making herself smaller. She moved, slowly, inch by inch along the line. Visibility was low. Ice and snow got kicked up, blocking her field of view. So, she kept her focus on the red storm line, using it as her guide.

She had never made a trip through a whiteout before. It was worse than she'd imagined. With zero visibility and the cacophony of the tumult around her, Beckett felt assaulted on all sides by the sounds and the sudden whiteness of her surroundings. It was a little disorienting.

After four more steps, Beckett reached the first stake, an intersection in the ice. Two other lines, one yellow, and another green, led off in different directions. Following the instructions she had memorized before she'd even shipped down to Antarctica, Beckett stopped, leaned into the wind, and clipped the secondary tether to the continuation of the red line on the other side of the stake. Once it was secured, Beckett unfastened the original tether, and clipped it back to her harness.

She took two steps, and then was suddenly lifted off her feet by an unexpected gust of wind. Beckett let out a sharp cry, her heart pounding beneath her chest. The tether caught and held her, jerking her back. The momentum her carried forward, smacking her down into the ice.

"Fuck!" she hissed, her the scar along her side pulling viciously, and crawled back to the stake. She gripped the metal with her gloved hands and slowly hoisted herself back up to her feet. Her legs wobbled for a moment, and she was afraid she'd collapse. But she locked her knees, leaned into another gust of wind, and held.

Keep moving.

She slowly regained her stance, and pushed onward. Hand over hand, keeping a firm grip. Beckett stalked further along the red line, hunching her body against the increasingly strong gusts of wind that continued to buffer against her. She maneuvered through two more stakes, taking it slow and careful, not wanting another repeat of that first interchange. With her head down, she walked on for another minute until she bumped into something. It took her a second to realize it was the other building.

Gritting her teeth, Beckett grabbed the wheel-lock. It didn't budge. Grunting, she put more of her weight into it, and eventually it turned, ice that had sealed around the grooves shattering. With one final shove, she got the hatch open. Arching her torso back, she unclipped the tether from the line and passed through the threshold.

The howling of the wind ceased as soon as she shoved the inner hatch shut behind her, spinning the wheel to lock it. Secured, Beckett let out a heavy sigh and slumped against the door, heart racing beneath her breast, scar throbbing along her side. She grimaced as she straightened up, resting one hand against the metal door for support.

Pulling the hood back, Beckett yanked the goggles off and tugged the ski mask off her face. It was below freezing outside, but under all her layers she was sweating bullets. She wiped the back of her hand against her forehead, feeling the beaded moisture.

The crossing had definitely not been a walk in the park. She bit down the self-admonishment that wanted to spring up at her earlier cavalier attitude. Shaking her head, she removed her gloves and shoved them into her pockets. Beckett worked at unbuckling the harness from around her waist. She hung it up on a hook, along with the black ECW jacket. She placed the goggles and face mask into an empty cubby below the hook.

Taking a moment, she lowered her head and allowed her racing heart to calm. She could hear the thumping in her ears. It was intense. Her scars throbbed, and her chest clenched. Closing her eyes, she heaved in several deep gulps of air, centering herself.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she repeated like a mantra.

Unbidden, a ruggedly handsome face with kind, blue eyes materialized in front of her. She gazed up at him, seeing a soothing and loving expression reflected back. He smiled at her, soft and sincere.

"Castle?" she gasped, in awe and confused at his sudden appearance.

His lips curved into a gentle smile.

I love you, Kate.

She blinked and he was gone. It had all been in her mind, an illusion. Beckett released a breath, feeling much more centered and calm than she had before. Who would have guessed that the man who'd annoyed and irritated her for nearly three years, treating her life like his personal jungle gym, would have become her rock, an anchor to keep her steady in choppy seas. And he was even doing that without being on the same continent.

Now that was impressive.

Beckett smirked, almost laughing at the thought. She would have never thought that back when she first meet the man at one of his book launch parties. But he'd changed. She'd changed. They'd changed together.

Sighing, Beckett raked her fingers through hair, before tying it back into a low ponytail. Dr. Marston was right. She needed to go home and tell Castle how she felt. It was the right thing to do.

But first, she had to a job to do.

Unlocking the inner door, Beckett pushed through and entered the building.

Darkness greeted her. She frowned, cocked her head to the side and reached over to hit the lights on. Nothing. She flicked the switch back and forth several more times before surrendering to the obvious. No power. She huffed out an exasperated breath. The dull howl of the storm outside was almost like muffled background noise. Just a sliver of light stabbed its way through the small window.

"Hello?" she called out into the still quiet. "Dr. Tallis? It's Marshal Beckett."

Her repeated calls were met with silence.

The hallway stretched out before her, long and dark, leading away from her in both directions. She craned her neck to look both ways, brow furrowing as she contemplated which path to take. Digging her flashlight out of her inside pocket, Beckett thumbed the button and a beam of sharp light shot out through the dark, illuminating the tiny particles of dust in the air. She scanned the hallway with narrowed eyes.

Something wasn't right. She could feel it in her gut. Castle would have called it her Spidey Sense.

God, how she missed that man.

Unzipping her parka, Beckett flicked her thumb over the latch securing her gun in the holster, on the ready, and stepped forward, deciding to go right. Stalking the hall, alert and vigilant, Beckett tried door after door. One finally gave, and she paused, lifting her weapon just a bit from the holster.

"Dr. Tallis?"

With a steady hand, Beckett cautiously pushed the door open, revealing four stripped bunks in an empty room. Frowning, she let go of her gun and retreated back out. She continued down the hallway until she reached the end, and approached the last door. This one was unlocked as well.

Beckett kept the flashlight up with one hand, while she lowered the other to grip the handle of her Glock, just in case. She shifted her stance, and then used her foot to nudged the door slightly ajar, before shouldering her way through it, sweeping the interior with the flashlight. The bright beam revealed what appeared to be a large lounge. Folding chairs were scattered around a card table, and there was an overturned sofa on the other side of the room.

On alert, she inched forward, scanning the room with trained eyes. Her gut was screaming at her. Something was off. Beckett learned long ago to trust her gut. Castle would have told her the same thing. And that was when she heard it: Breathing, labored and heavy, almost a wheeze. Her ears twitched, and she spun around. Moving with purpose, she approached the overturned sofa, pausing momentarily before stepping around it.

"My God," she gasped.

Sprawled on the ground by the sofa was Dr. Enric Tallis. He was lying in a pool of his own blood, struggling to breathe through a puncture wound on his esophagus. His eyes were wide, terrified. He gasped, and blood shot out of the hole in his throat. His lips moved, as if to speak, but Beckett shook her head, kneeling down beside him.

"No, don't try and talk," she instructed, looking around for something—anything—to use to stop the bleeding. But then Tallis was grabbing her, gargling something, gasping for air. Beckett had just a moment to realize he was warning her before she noticed the reflection of movement behind her in the man's dark eyes.

She moved, on instinct, rolling back over Tallis just as an ice axe swung down at her, just missing her head by an inch. But the shaft nailed her arm holding the flashlight, causing her to lose her grip, sending it clattering to the floor. The killer loomed above her, wearing full ECW gear with a mask and goggles obscuring his features. A frustrated growl, low and male emanated from him, and he took another swing at her.

Beckett lunged to the side. The axe missed her, but sunk into Tallis, piercing his chest, effectively killing him. Blood gurgled out of his mouth as he gasped his last breath, before his head fell backwards, eyes dead. Beckett scrambled across the floor, diving for her flashlight. The killer yanked the ice axe free of Tallis's corpse, cocking his masked head in her direction.

Adrenalin pumped through her veins, fueling her need to fight and survive. She drew her Glock, but she was too slow. The masked villain was already bearing down on her. He swung at her again. She moved, but wasn't quick enough. The flat end of the ice axe hit her hand. Crying out in pain, Beckett lost her grip on the weapon as her fingers spasmed. Her Glock fell to the ground. Before she could retrieve it, the killer kicked it away.

Cursing, Beckett jerked a fist at him, forcing him to dodge the blow. It gave her an opportunity for escape, and she took it. Pushing up to her feet, Beckett bolted around the sofa and headed for the door. With her weapon gone, there was only one way to survive. She pumped her legs and pounded her boots against the floor as she flew out the room, slamming the door behind her, and darted down the hallway at a full tilt run, retracing her steps.

The killer burst through the door a few beats after her, all shadow and rage. He clutched the ice axe with determination and pursued her with the tenacity of a predator hunting down its prey. She took a hard left, skidding along the dirty floor, as she approached the vestibule. She doesn't even want to look back—it was all or nothing now. With desperate hands, she pulled the inner hatch open and leapt through. Almost immediately she spun back around and slammed the door shut, spinning the wheel-lock closed.

On the other side, her masked assailant smacked into the door. She could hear him pound his fist against the door in frustration. Ignoring him for the moment, Beckett worked fast, grabbing the harness, and pulling it on. She rushed through the fastenings, breath hitching in horror as she saw the wheel begin to spin to unlock on the inner door. There wasn't much time left. It was now a race.

Her heart pounded like a jackhammer beneath her breast as she pulled on the ski mask, ignoring the goggles in favor of hurriedly zipping up her parka and tugging her hood up over her head. She slipped the gloves on as fast as she could. Gritting her teeth, she then worked the wheel on the outer hatch, and it clicked unlock with a satisfying clunk. The door swung open, propelled by a strong gust of freezing wind. Snow and ice flew into the room, coating the floor in white. Beckett risked a glance over her shoulder just as the masked man emerged from the inner door, swinging his weapon menacingly. She pursed her lips and swallowed. She had no choice; she'd run out of time.

Still propelled by adrenalin and instinct, Beckett jumped out into the wind, catching the red storm line and hurriedly clipping her tether to it as she staggered forward, leaning hard into the strong wind. Craning her neck, she stared back at the opening, seeing the killer emerge. However, as she continued on down the line, she lost sight of him as she was swallowed up in the whiteout.