Page 70 of Mountain Security

Alex

The boy’s father stood under the makeshift tent the PGHM had set up, sniveling loudly into a Styrofoam cup.

Alex felt little sympathy for him.

This was the same man who’d waited six hours before reporting his child missing.

Six fucking hours.

Six hours was a long time for a fourteen-year-old out on the snow at any time of year, but in the middle of winter, it was an eternity.

Beau’s expression was murderous as he stared at the man. Alex knew his boss had a step-daughter about the same age as the missing kid. This must be doubly hard for him.

“Let’s go through it one more time, Monsieur Désérable,” Beau said, enunciating the words carefully.

Alex left them to it and stepped outside the tent to look for the rest of the team.

It was easy to find Tristan, since he was standing next to his helicopter, as usual. Though the sky had continued to lighten over the last hour, the cloud ceiling had dropped and continued to cling to the mountainside. Alex knew any attempt to move the helicopter would be fraught with danger, but he couldn’t think of a man who knew more about the machines he flew than Tristan did. Alex was happy to put his life in Tristan’s hands anytime.

Nodding to his friend, Alex walked on past several small groups of people. Everyone was waiting for Beau to give the next set of orders. From the expression on their faces, it was easy to see who’d been searching out here most of the night already, and who had just been called to join the search, as he had.

Alex recognized Rémy, a ski instructor and mountain guide who often helped the PGHM, as well as several other mountain guides. That made sense. The kid had gone missing while off-piste skiing, and nobody knew this part of the mountains better than the guides who skied these routes every day.

A chilling wind blew in Alex’s face. He shivered under his layers, praying the boy had found himself some shelter.

Whenever a child went missing in the mountains, protocol immediately kicked in. In a situation like this one, in sub-zero temperatures, everything was accelerated. Alex knew the team would have started on the ground, but at night, with no visibility, they would have to have been very lucky to find the child.

“Alex,” Ry called out. From the pale, drawn look on his face, it was clear he was one of those who’d been out here for hours. As the team medic, he was the one person they could not do without. When they found the boy, there was a high chance that he would need medical help, and while they could all provide basic first aid, Ry’s emergency medical knowledge was unrivaled, except perhaps by Jens, the doctor in their sibling PGHM unit.

Henri Désérable had a few things in his favor. He was fourteen years old—still very much a child—but, according to his father at least, had the body and stamina of a man. He was also wearing proper ski clothes.

The fact that he was fourteen could also play against him, though. Alex remembered being that age, and feeling very much an adult, even though he’d still been a child. The summer he’d turned fourteen he’d broken his wrist and hidden it from his parents for hours, until, light-headed with pain and scared by the rapidly swelling limb, he’d finally gone to speak to his mother.

Let’s hope Henri is not as stupid.

Beau stormed out of the tent, his thick gloves clenched into fists.

“That asshole’s sticking to his story,” he said. “They decided to go off-piste after lunch. He lost sight of his son around six p.m., in the couloir, made it all the way back down to the resort before realizing he was on his own, then came back up and spent several hours searching for him on his own before calling us.”

“You believe him?” Alex asked.

Beau sighed. “I do. He’s lacking in common sense, but I think he’s genuinely worried about his son.”

Beau brought all the searchers together to discuss the next steps. His words were clipped and concise.

“We’ve been up and down the couloir twice, and seen no sign of the boy. We’re going to do it one more time, now that it’s light. We’ll split into two groups. One group will retrace the man’s steps, like this. Rémy will lead that group. Hugo, Lorenz, you’re with them.”

That made sense. Lorenz and Hugo were the strongest off-piste skiers in their group.

Beau brought up a tablet with a map of the mountain and traced the route with a yellow highlighter.

“I’ll lead the second group. We’ll head west from thecouloir, in case the boy tried to make his way back on-piste.” Beau highlighted this second route in bright purple. “Ry, Alex, you’re with me. Tristan, you’ll stay with the helicopter and coordinate comms. And make sure the father doesn’t go anywhere.”

Tristan’s brow furrowed. Though Alex was pretty sure he would have refused to go anywhere without his helicopter, he clearly didn’t appreciate being left behind to babysit the father.

Alex tried to recall the area west of thecouloir. There were two black pistes in that direction, and a red piste.

“How good of a skier is the boy?” Alex asked. He looked towards the tent, knowing parents were often not the best judges of ability.

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