Page 67 of One Last Chance

“I like how you think. I might just give you a junior investigator’s badge.”

He laughed as Tillie came back with their chicken. She’d written “To Moose” with a giant red heart and her name scrawled on the top. Axel looked at her.

“I added a few of his favorite pieces in there.” She shrugged. Then she tore off the bill and put it on the table. “Stay safe.”

He picked it up and slid out to pay. When he returned, Flynn had finished her shake, gobbled down the rest of the fries. “I was hungrier than I thought.”

“I like a woman who eats.”

His cell phone buzzed and he pulled it out. “Moose needs us back at the Tooth.”

“The what?”

“Air One HQ. We call it the Tooth. Like, you know, the Moose’s Tooth.”

She lifted a shoulder. “Is that something?”

“It’s a cliff around here. It . . . never mind.” He scooped up the warm container and followed Flynn out to the parking lot. Handed her the box as he got in.

The smell of hot chicken filled the Yukon as they drove the mile over to Merrill Field and the Air One office, located in a building at the edge of the tarmac.

“This is quite the office,” Flynn said as she stepped inside. “That’s a huge map.” She pointed to the topographical map on the wall.

“And it’s only the middle of Alaska, where we operate. Doesn’t even include anything north of Fairbanks or the Juneau area.”

“Seems like a pretty big area for one team.”

“Oh no. We’re the second team. The Coast Guard, the state patrol, and the military have massive operations. But every year, tourists and hikers find themselves in over their heads, and sometimes the wait for help can be hours, or days.” He set the container on the stone island. “We’re privately funded, out of an endowment from a man who helped Moose get started. But we do fundraising every year—hence the TV show. Moose needed to fill the coffers, so he hired us all on as guinea pigs.”

“Celebrity guinea pigs,” Moose said, coming down the hallway. He wore a red jumpsuit, carried a file folder wrapped with a rubber band, and a held a radio. “I think I saw T-shirts with Axel’s face on them.”

“They’ll make a killing,” Flynn said.

Axel glanced at her, a little heat in his face. She winked.

Oh wow. Yeah, he was in way over his head here.

Moose raised an eyebrow but nodded and set the folder down on the table. “We got a call from Hank. They need help. There’s been a run of climbers trying for the summit, trying to outrun an -coming storm. At the same time, Dodge and other local pilots are busy hauling people off the mountain. They’re short on resources. Apparently, Sully called in and needs help with a hiker who fell. Said it’s not urgent, but they can’t get to him, so they need the chopper. I need to head back to Copper Mountain, and I was hoping you’d come with me, Axel. We’ll leave Boo and Shep here to assist locally, if they need it.”

“Yeah, sure. Flynn? Ready to head back to Copper Mountain?”

“Axel, we’re heading right to the rescue site. I don’t think?—”

“She needs a ride back to Copper Mountain.”

Moose considered Flynn for a moment. Glanced at her leg.

“I promise not to get in the way.”

Oh, she was already way in the way. But Axel let out his held breath when Moose nodded.

Two hours later, however, his only thought was on the fourteen-year-old kid who’d gone on a walkabout from the guys’ fishing trip, slipped, and found himself thirty feet down, on the edge of a cliff, unable to climb up, with a hundred-yard drop to the river shore below.

Axel had donned a harness while London, who’d ridden as copilot, clipped on the rescue harness. Flynn wore a helmet, clearly listening to the conversation as London communicated with Moose, positioning the chopper above the kid, who appeared panicked and a little bloodied, but standing as he gripped the rock some thirty feet below.

“Rescue out the door,” said London as Axel maneuvered out of the chopper.

From inside, where she sat against the wall, Flynn gave him a thumbs-up.