A/N. OK. Now where was I? Oh yes, getting Mac into trouble again! ;-) Oh and Daisyangel, you're quite right, he hasn't learnt ... but then if he had this would be a very short and very boring chapter! LOL! Reviews and PM's always appreciated - will try to respond as soon as I can. Mahala.
Chapter 11
Gavin Escott hated snow but since he had got the book off that curly-haired detective he thought he might perhaps spend some of his brother's ill-gotten gains on one of these machines. They were rather fun and much easier to drive than he had thought. This single-seater was smaller than the one they had used to bring down the skier with the broken arm that he had seen earlier. The snow-mobile had been easy to steal. The keys had been left in a labelled key box and the lock to the store-house had been a cinch to pick. He grinned to himself imagining the frustration on the cop's faces when they realized that he wasn't coming back down the slope and congratulated himself on the brilliant idea of cutting along the track that weaved through the trees. The snow-mobile bounced over the rough track as he headed to where he had hidden his truck not far from the spot where he had run that thieving little blond bitch off the road. A flash of anger surged through him as he recalled finding her dead and no book but he was glad he had stayed longer or he wouldn't have spotted the curly haired detective from the B&B at the bowling alley. He couldn't believe his luck when she and her friends had discovered the book especially when the younger one had walked straight into his arms. He had really enjoyed making Miss Curly-Locks hand it over and watching the frustration in her eyes. Now all he needed was another ten minutes and he'd be away scot free. Pity he couldn't have taken Taylor with him especially as he had lost one of favourite knives. Gavin Escott almost snarled at the thought of the well-known head of the crime lab. He had recognized Taylor the minute he had saw him outside the B&B and he knew he had a reputation for being a tough sonofabitch. He'd heard as much from his brother and from now on Escott was sure that the bastard would be tracking his every move. Perhaps he should head out West and start again though it would be a shame to have to leave his brother's ready-made business empire. Still he was sure that there was enough money in those secret accounts to give him a good time for a long while – maybe he should just head south of the border and live it up. He just needed a little time to cash-in but with Taylor on his heels that wouldn't be easy. He would just have to take Taylor out. He smiled to himself. After all their paths were sure to cross at some point in the near future.
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"*******"
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The adrenalin surge was making Mac feel a little light-headed. His skis barely touched the slope as he flew down the top half of the piste. He noted that they had installed safety nets on his right preventing the more reckless skiers from taking the downward plunge too soon and ending up wrapped around a tree. He shifted his weight slightly to the right and lifted his knees as he came to the first stomach churning drop. It almost seemed impossible that his skis would grip the surface so steep was the incline but his landing was cushioned by the freshly fallen snow though it was still hard enough for him to feel it in every bone. Though he knew it to be impossible Mac was convinced that his stomach had landed several seconds after the rest of him. Praying that the moonlight wouldn't suddenly vanish, Mac shifted his weight as he took the second and third drops before sweeping into a tight double bend. He could feel the edges of the skis scraping the crust beneath the dusting of snow desperate to maintain a purchase on the ice beneath. The muscles in his legs screamed as he tried to maintain balance, rapidly sweeping his skis in the opposite direction as he traversed the steep slope. The moon disappeared behind a cloud and Mac felt a moment of panic. The slightest mistake at this speed and he was in trouble but the darkness again lasted only a few seconds before the moon spread it's light once more. Mac blinked furiously trying to make sense of the scene in front of him.
"Shit!" he swore, only then remembering that the central part of the run was a mogul field. Mac bounced from bump to bump his poles held wide for balance as his knees bent and flexed in rhythm with the terrain. It had been well over ten years since he'd been down this run with Claire but all of a sudden it came back to him. He couldn't help smiling to himself as for the sheer hell of it he altered his line to the right aiming for a particularly large mogul. He felt the skis lift off the crest and for a few seconds he flew through the air. The landing was a little harder than he had intended but the exhilaration was the same. He could still recall Claire screaming at him to slow down and accusing him of being a suicidal maniac despite the fact that she had taken the run almost as fast as he had. Mac grinned to himself at the memory but the grin quickly disappeared as he caught sight of the lights of a vehicle moving steadily below him.
"Dammit!" The lights were further west than he had anticipated. If he continued down the run he would end up behind Escott. Mac made a split-second decision. Ignoring the risks Mac swept to his left and put all his strength into bringing his skis perpendicular to the slope. Straightening up he slowed considerably and aimed for a gap in the trees. He left the main piste ploughing through the build-up at the edge and began a slow descent through the trees trying to calculate an intercept point with the snow-mobile below him. He continued down and across twisting left and right through the tall pines as the snow-mobile's lights disappeared in a dip. The gaps between the trees gradually widened and suddenly Mac emerged out into the open plunging through the deep powder that had accumulated undisturbed away from the groomed runs of the resort. After a couple of minutes Mac guided his skis into a wide arc, slowed and stopped. He was just above the cat track. The lights of the snow-mobile flashed as it mounted the rise to his right. Realising it was only a matter of seconds before Escott reached his position, Mac pushed off quickly jumping down the last few feet before coming to a teeth-jarring stop on the track. He swung around to face the oncoming vehicle. Mac quickly discarded his poles and gloves. Pulling the rifle from his back he threw off his hat and goggles too breathing heavily. His legs were trembling from the exertion and his heart was almost pounding out of his chest but with an iron will he forced himself calmer as he raised the stock to his shoulder and waited.
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"*******"
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Gavin Escott was truly beginning to enjoy himself as he guided the machine round the twisting track that hugged the lower edge of the mountain. He was now a rich man thanks to the little book in his pocket and he grinned to himself as he neared his hidden truck. The track fell in a deep slope before rising up again. He gunned the accelerator as the snow-mobile crested the top of the slope and the machine lurched forward. Gavin Escott stared at the track in front of him scarcely able to believe his eyes. A dark-suited figure stood silhouetted in the centre of the track, the moonlight reflecting off the barrel of a rifle. He just had time to register the flash from the muzzle before a crack reached his ears followed by the distinct sound of a bullet ricocheting off metal. Instinctively he swerved. He felt the machine move from underneath him and the world turned upside down as he flew through the air.
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"*******"
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Don Flack was swinging a flash-light over the front of a large red pick-up with a huge dent in the fender when he heard the distinct crack of a rifle shot echo around the forest. He and Sam looked at one another in askance. They listened carefully but all was silent until a distant rumble like that of far away thunder began. The rumble got louder and louder before turning into a roar, the very air around them seeming to vibrate. Don looked around frantically trying to pinpoint the source. "What the …?"
"Oh my God! Avalanche!" yelled Sam. "The cornice above Devil's Ridge must have given way." Sam yanked open the door sending up a silent thank you that it was unlocked. "Get in!" He pushed Don in before pulling the door closed behind him. Well hidden between two large trees just off the track above the road, the truck was in the safest place possible. Don watched in horror as a cloud of snow like a miniature white sand-storm appeared above them. He cringed involuntarily expecting to be swept away but no sooner had it started than the rumbling faded and all was still as a fine dusting of snow settled all around them.
Sam sighed with relief. "Thank God. It was only a small one. The tree line just below the cat track must have been enough to slow it down." Both men jumped out of the truck and headed up the mountain towards the track. Pushing through the trees they emerged onto the track a few yards west of where Mac had intercepted Gavin Escott. They both ground to a halt as they saw the mound of snow littered with leaves and branches blocking the track that lead back to the resort.
"If that was a small one I would hate to see a large one." Don muttered as they both headed towards the snow-slide. "Do you think that Mac …?" Don's voice trailed away hardly daring to ask the question.
"His shot from the rifle must have set it off." Sam grabbed his radio. "Central, this Sam Kingston. Require Mountain Search and Rescue urgently. Avalanche below Devil's Ridge, approximately four hundred yards north-west of Wilder's Bend. Two potential victims. Repeat require immediate assistance." A crackly voice acknowledged Sam's call. Don felt his stomach plummet at the word victim. He followed Sam up the side of the mound of snow, his boots slipping and sliding until they sank into the soft top. Standing up Don surveyed the mountainside around him. Several trees had been brought down in the avalanche and as the moon emerged from behind a cloud the path of the avalanche from the summit was clear. Don and Sam stood on the edge of the run-out zone that extended for thirty to forty yards in front of them, the accumulated mass of avalanched snow strewn with debris from it's journey down the mountainside. "Heaven help us!" whispered Sam.
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"*******"
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Stella Bonasera was furious. She should have known that Mac would do something like this. Bruce, hunched over the wheel next to her, pushed the car as fast as he dare along the icy road, grateful that he was able to follow the tracks left by Sam's 4x4. As they rounded a bend at the top of a small incline, Bruce suddenly hit the brakes. The car skidded to a halt and Stella lurched forward against the seat restraint and turned to demand why they had stopped. Bruce was staring out of the wind-shield open-mouthed. Leaning forward to look Stella was horrified to see a wide swathe of the mountainside between two heavily forested sections moving. A huge wave of white slid down the mountainside creating a crest that disappeared behind the tree-line just above them. For a few moments they both sat in silence looking at the cloud of snow that slowly settled then the radio crackled and Sam's distinctive twang left them both breathless, the words avalanche and victims hanging in the air.
"Go!" screamed Stella making Bruce jump but he hit the accelerator and the car skidded swinging back and forth as he drove towards the scene. Stella hung onto the grab handle as Bruce deftly manoeuvred the car. A few minutes later they drew to a halt once more as the road was completely blocked by snow. Jumping from the car Stella ran for the side of the road, scrambling up the slope. She grabbed the branches of a nearby tree to haul herself up not bothering to see how Bruce was doing. Her heart was pounding and the blood was rushing in her ears. She was out of breath by the time she reached the top. She paused for a moment blinking in the bright moonlight as she took in the scene before her.
"Mac!" Stella turned and saw two flash-lights systematically sweeping back and forth across the snow. "Mac!" came the voice again.
"Don! Sam!" Stella waved and began to plunge through the soft snow towards them. She sank in up to her knees but continued to wade towards Don who was shouting her name. She took another step and to her surprise her foot hit something hard. She hit out with her foot again. There was something under the snow. She dropped to her knees and began to dig. Her gloved hands cleared away the snow and she was surprised to find a metal bar. Clearing away more snow she found the edge of a strut and then a runner.
"Stella!" She looked up as Don joined her sinking to his knees beside her. "It's the snow-mobile." They both continued to clear the snow away from the machine as Sam joined them. Bruce came scrambling up the slope behind them and threw down a large orange bag. He thrust a short-handled spade into Don's hands. Stella looked up to see him hand Sam what looked like a ski pole without a snow-basket. They both started pushing the poles into the snow all around the snow-mobile working their way out and downhill. After a few minutes Sam shouted and dropped to his knees scraping frantically at the snow. Stella, Don and Bruce scrambled to join him. No one said anything as they dug. They scraped away the snow and the dark wet shape of a man face-down emerged from the snow. Don threw the spade aside and grabbed a handful of material and pulled. The head and shoulders of a man appeared. Stella felt rather than heard her gasp. Don looked at her in disbelief. "It's Gavin Escott." Don pulled off a glove and pressed it to the man's throat. "He's dead." Don let go and they all sat back breathing heavily no one daring to look the other in the eye lest they see their own fear reflected back at them.