The Bodyguard (Norcross #4) - Anna Hackett Page 0,71
their story, Uncharted, in the Treasure Hunter Security series.
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Preview - Mission: Her Protection
It was a beautiful day—ten below zero, and ice as far as the eye could see.
Dr. Rowan Schafer tugged at the fur-lined hood of her arctic parka, and stared across the unforgiving landscape of Ellesmere Island, the northernmost island in Canada. The Arctic Circle lay about fifteen hundred miles to the south, and large portions of the island were covered with glaciers and ice.
Rowan breathed in the fresh, frigid air. There was nowhere else she wanted to be.
Hefting her small pickaxe, she stepped closer to the wall of glacial ice in front of her. The retreating Gilman Glacier was proving a fascinating location. Her multi-disciplinary team of hydrologists, glaciologists, geophysicists, botanists, and climate scientists were more than happy to brave the cold for the chance to carry out their varied research projects. She began to chip away at the ice once more, searching for any interesting samples.
“Rowan.”
She spun and saw one of the members of her team headed her way. Dr. Isabel Silva’s parka was red like the rest of the team’s, but she wore a woolen hat in a shocking shade of pink over her black hair. Originally from Brazil, Rowan knew the paleobotanist disliked the cold.
“What’s the latest, Isabel?” Rowan asked.
“The sled on the snowmobile is almost full of samples.” The woman waved her hand in the air, like she always did when she was talking. “You should have seen the moss and lichen samples I pulled. There were loads of them in area 3-41. I can’t wait to get started on the tests.” She shivered. “And be out of this blasted cold.”
Rowan suppressed a smile. Scientists. She had her own degrees in hydrology and biology, with a minor in paleontology that had shocked her very academic parents. But on this expedition, she was here as leader to keep her team of fourteen fed, clothed, and alive.
“Okay, well, you and Dr. Fournier can run the samples back to base, and then come back to collect me and Dr. Jensen.”
Isabel broke into a smile. “You know Lars has a crush on you.”
Dr. Lars Jensen was a brilliant, young geophysicist. And yes, Rowan hadn’t missed his not-so-subtle attempts to ask her out.
“I’m not here looking for dates.”
“But he’s kind of cute.” Isabel grinned and winked. “In a nerdy kind of way.”
Rowan’s mouth firmed. Lars was also several years younger than her and, while sweet, didn’t interest her in that way. Besides, she’d had enough of people trying to set her up. Her mother was always trying to push various appropriate men on Rowan—men with the right credentials, the right degrees, and the right tenured positions. Neither of her parents cared about love or passion; they just cared about how many dissertations and doctorates people collected. Their daughter included.
She dragged in a breath. That was why she’d applied for this expedition—for a chance to get away, a chance for some adventure. “Finish with the samples, Isabel, then—”
Shouts from farther down the glacier had both women spinning. The two other scientists, their red coats bright against the white ice, were waving their arms.
“Wonder what they’ve found?” Rowan started down the ice.
Isabel followed. “Probably the remains of a mammoth or a mastodon. The weirdest things turn these guys on.”
Careful not to move too fast on the slippery surface, Rowan and Isabel reached the men.
“Dr. Schafer, you have to see this.” Lars’ blue eyes were bright, his nose red from the cold.
She crouched beside Dr. Marc Fournier. “What have you got?”
The older hydrologist scratched carefully at the ice with his pickaxe. “I have no idea.” His voice lilted with his French accent.
Rowan studied the discovery. Suspended in the ice, the circular object was about the size of her palm. It was dull-gray in color, and just the edge of it was protruding through the ice, thanks to the warming temperatures that were causing the glacier to retreat.
She touched the end of it with her gloved hand. It was firm, but smooth. “It’s not wood, or plant life.”
“Maybe stone?” Marc tapped it gently with