Page 9 of Heston
“Copy that,” Heston answered, another smile curling the corners of his mouth. There was nothing like the steady kindness of the older, wiser, crustier generation of combat vets.
He and Asher jogged the rest of the distance to the RV, aka the USFC Incident Command Center. Its door swung outward before Heston could knock, and a stalwart man jumped down from the rig’s metal steps. His boots hit the muddy ground with a smack.
“You must be Agents Heston Contreras and Asher Downey,” the ranger said as he stuck out a gloved hand. “’Bout damned time you lazy bastards showed up. I’m United States Forest Service Captain Devon Bates. Behind me’s Lieutenant Wilde.” Bates stabbed a thumb over his shoulder, not even looking at his partner. Which struck Heston as just plain disrespectful.
Wilde didn’t say anything, but the tops of his cheeks were red and his jacket was zipped up tight under his chin. Looked like he, at least, had been outside searching. That helped.
“Good to meet you, Captain Bates, Lieutenant Wilde.” Heston nodded at the silent LT. “We appreciate the assist. I’m Heston. My companion’s Asher. I’m sure you appreciate what we’re up against.”
“Yeah. You guys don’t think we can get the job done.”
“We’re here to locate our people, sir,” Asher clarified politely. “Has anyone heard from Mr. Stewart since his distress call this morning?”
“Yeah. I already found him. Dragged him to shore and tried to help, but he fought me. Dumb shit’s stubborn. Wouldn’t listen and wouldn’t let me call him an ambulance, either,” Bates shrugged one of those big shoulders.
“You found him?! Where was he?” Heston demanded to know. “Take us to him? Is he okay? Any sign of his wife?” Why the hell wasn’t Alex inside the Incident Command Center being treated?
Bates waved into the dark. “He was over there when I left, on this side of the river. Not sure why some office in far-off Virginia sent you guys all the way out here. We don’t need your kind of help.”
“You left him? Why? Is he injured? Is anyone looking for his wife?” Heston couldn’t believe the nonchalance of this guy, or how often Bates dodged answering questions.
“Our kind?” Asher asked. “What kind would that be?”
“You know. Military. We work better alone. Right, Wilde?”
Heston cut Wilde off before he could answer. “Focus, gawddamnit! Captain Bates, where exactly did you leave Mr. Stewart? Has anyone located his wife yet?” Temperatures had dropped since Heston and Asher touched down. Anyone who’d been in that river would be a frozen corpse by now.
“I told you he didn’t want help.” Bates’ brows slammed into an ugly V. “Jesus Christ, what was I supposed to do? Drag him to Enumclaw and make him be good?”
Heston ran a hand up the back of his neck, shocked at the lack of interagency support they were receiving. What the hell was up with this guy? “Just to be clear, we’reformer military. Tell me exactly what Mr. Stewart said. How bad is he hurt? Did you find his wife? For God’s sake, answer me!”
Wilde climbed down the steps and stood behind his superior, stiff, as if he didn’t dare speak up.
“Let me be frank,” Bates groaned, scrubbing a big hand over his salt-and-pepper crewcut. “You guys are too late. The Forest Service officially called off all Search and Rescue efforts hours ago. Weather’s nasty. Going to get worse. No sense looking for folks we won’t be able to see in this storm, not if your buddy Stewart went back into the river after his wife like he said. Ain’t no sense getting ourselves killed. Know what I mean?”
Heston jerked his chin at Asher. “We’re done here.” They needed assistance, not interference. No sense arguing. Alex and Kelsey didn’t have time to waste. “Let’s make camp, drop our gear, and get to work.”
“You’d be smart to listen to someone who knows,Contreras,” Bates grumbled. Did he just put that nasty twist into Heston’s name on purpose? “I said visibility’s poor, and I don’t need two more idiots lost on these mountains.”
Two more idiots?Them were fighting words. The fingers of tension knotting the muscles in Heston’s neck exploded into bone-crushing rage. But Asher beat him to it.
“You want to try that again,Cap’n Crunch?” Asher bit out, his right elbow cocked slightly behind his hip, and his right hand balled into a fist that looked like a boxing glove. Asher stood a hefty six-foot-five-inches tall. His shoulders were thicker and wider than Bates’, and those shoulders were pure muscle. He was meaner than most men Heston had ever worked with, and this ranger was a dick.
Bates slapped his hands to his hips and tipped forward into Asher’s face with a belligerent, “This ismymountain, and you don’t know shit about the weather up here. You think you can walk intomypark and take overmyoperation? I said the search is called off, got it? While you’re on Forest Service land, you’ll do as I say. Understood?”
Heston rolled his shoulder one more time to keep his temper under control—which wasn’t easy. There was nothing to be gained by stooping to Bates’ level. Pigs and mud and all that. He’d seen plenty of Bates’ ilk before. Some men were born leaders; others were power-hungry, small-minded assholes who stomped their subordinates into the dirt. Not tonight.
Heston slapped a steadying hand to Asher’s beefy shoulder before Asher exercised that right hook and knockedCap’n Crunchinto orbit. Wilde had yet to speak up, but maybe he knew arguing with his supervisor was futile.
“No problem. We’ll pitch our tent and—”
“Why do you think I brought that rig up here?” Bates’ arm snapped out behind him like a railroad semaphore, his finger pointed at the cumbersome ICC vehicle. “Sure wasn’t for the fun of driving all them hairpin turns. You’ll sleep inside. With us. Where it’s warm and dry. Where I can keep an eye on—”
“No,” Heston shot back, then quickly recovered his cool before this turned into a brawl. Wilde was a loud-and-clear no contest, but if push came to shove, Asher could clean Bates’ plow without breaking a sweat. “We’ll pitch camp where we choose, and we’ll wait for the weather to clear. That much makes sense. But come morning, we’re searching with or without you.” Heston lied through his teeth. They might set up camp, but waiting until morning was pure bullshit.
Bates’ nose wrinkled with disgust. Like the leader he wasn’t, he climbed back into the RV, slammed the door behind him, and immediately, ICC running lights went dark.
Good riddance.
