Nine Lives - Danielle Steel Page 0,80
It was the helicopter dispatch office. She couldn’t call Paul directly. There was no cell service where they were staying. They would be carrying radios to communicate with the base and each other, and they were each wearing an avalanche signal, in case they got buried, so someone could find them. They had the most modern equipment for this kind of skiing, and state-of-the-art clothing to keep them warm in the coldest conditions. Paul liked testing his endurance every year, to check how strong he was and how much resilience he still had. There was a tremendous sense of personal accomplishment when he came home after a week of pushing himself that hard. Every year he felt healthy and powerful for months afterwards. It was a rite of passage, a test of one’s manhood, which was hard for Maggie to understand. To her it just seemed unnecessarily dangerous, like everything else he did. Paul challenged himself every day, in one way or another. It was his way of proving to himself that he was still alive and at the top of his game. She understood that about him, and the reasons for it, but she wished there were some other way for him to prove himself, without risking his life. She had never understood male rituals like running with the bulls in Pamplona, where office workers and young boys risked getting gored by a bull in the streets of Spain. All a person had to do there was be able to leap over a fence in time. Paul would have to use his utmost skill skiing, and jumping out of the helicopter in just the right way at the right time. He would have to be able to stay ahead of potentially lethal weather conditions, endure the freezing cold, and flawlessly judge the terrain he would be skiing. A single mistake or careless moment could cost him his life, and those of his companions. It was a gamble of the most extreme kind, and precisely what Paul loved above all else. He needed to challenge himself and come home victorious. And she was left to wait it out day by day.
She stayed busy for the first few days. Aden left on Sunday to go back to Boston. She hadn’t heard anything by then and didn’t expect to. No one was supposed to call her. She could call the helicopter dispatcher if she wanted news of them, but she didn’t want to make a nuisance of herself. She thought of calling them on Monday, but decided not to. She did research for her online gallery to keep busy. She still had a lot to do before she could get started.
On Tuesday morning, she turned the TV on in her kitchen while she made coffee, just to hear some friendly voices in the quiet house. She didn’t pay much attention to who was being interviewed, and then saw a news bulletin roll across the screen, so she switched to the news channel. They said there had been an avalanche in Western Canada, in British Columbia, the day before, one of the worst in its history. Two groups of expert skiers who had been helicoptered in had disappeared. They had been missing for almost twenty-four hours by then. Maggie could feel her throat get tight as she listened. She could hardly breathe.
She fumbled in her purse for the number Paul had given her, and she called immediately with shaking hands. The dispatcher confirmed that Paul’s group was one of the two groups that were missing. They were in fact wearing avalanche transceivers, but a storm had come in, and rescue helicopters had been unable to get into the area. They were waiting for conditions to clear. Maggie could barely formulate the questions she wanted to ask them. She wanted to know how long they could survive in the freezing conditions until they were rescued, but she didn’t have the guts to ask them. One day? Two? Four? Five? Ten? None? And how soon did they think the helicopters could go in?
They told her they were hopeful that in the next few hours they could fly a mission, but they might have to wait another twenty-four hours. Another storm front was moving into the area. They gave it to her straight, with no apology and no hesitation. They knew that anyone who skied with them was fully aware of what the risks were. Paul had known them too. It was part of