by the track’s confines, but the other driver could take the quickest route to intercept him.
The luge plowed through a hump of snow, the explosion of powder briefly blinding him. Gasping, he put both feet down to slow the sledge, the ice scraping viciously against his toes.
Another curve, his sleeve brushing the wall as he strained to make the turn. The snowmobile’s engine was briefly muffled as he passed behind a large snowbank. He had almost caught up with the cable car—
The snowmobile’s muted roar suddenly became a terrifying howl as it burst over the top of the bank and swept down into the track directly behind him.
Its headlight pinned him in its glaring beam. Eddie now had a clear view of the track ahead, but a crash was no longer the greatest danger. He looked back. The snowmobile was less than ten feet behind, twin front skis slashing through the ice.
The engine revved. The gap closed. He brought the luge skittering around another bend. The snowmobile followed, its rider feathering the throttle to hold it in a controlled skid before applying full power again. The light grew brighter.
Eddie braced himself—
One of the skis bashed against his foot. The impact knocked the sled around, sending him at a wall. He desperately tried to counter it, but overcompensated. The luge wriggled like a fish beneath him, almost throwing him off. He was forced to jam both feet down against the track to keep control—and the snowmobile rammed him again, harder. Pain shot through his ankle as his foot was almost crushed under the skid.
The snowmobile dropped back slightly, then revved again, rushing forward to run him over …
Another curve—and the wall was partly covered by a snowdrift. Eddie flung the luge into a sharp turn. It hit the wall—but the drift was just thick enough for the runners to ride up over it.
Even so, the impact flipped him off the sled. He sailed helplessly through the air. Trees loomed ahead—
He missed a trunk by less than a foot, smacking down in deep snow beyond it. The luge thunked off the tree and spun away in pieces.
His pursuer turned hard to follow him. The machine slammed over the wall, going airborne—
And smashing straight into a tree.
The snowmobile exploded, a boiling orange fireball lighting up the little forest. Eddie shielded his head as burning debris rained down around him. He waited a few seconds, then cautiously sat up.
The snow had cushioned his landing, but he was still sore and woozy, ankle throbbing from its run-in with the skid. He shifted, putting experimental weight on it. The effort made him wince as pain spiked through the joint. He was still able to move, but running after the cable car would hurt …
The cable car! He looked up. It would pass almost directly overhead in seconds. He was still some way from the village, and without the sled there was no way he could possibly catch up before it reached the lower station. The MP5 was also gone, lost in the snow. He stared helplessly at the gondola as it rumbled over the trees.
Someone stared back at him.
Stikes.
“I don’t believe it,” said Stikes, banging an exasperated hand on the glass as he saw movement in the firelit snow below. “It’s Chase!”
Nina shoved past the mercenary guarding her and pressed her nose to the window. To her delight, she saw a figure among the flaming remains of a snowmobile. “He’s still alive!” She gave Larry a triumphant look. The elder Chase beamed at the news.
“Not for long,” said Sophia, pushing between Group members to see for herself. She batted the guard’s arm. “You! You’ve got a gun—shoot him!”
The mercenary turned to Stikes for confirmation. “Do as she says,” he ordered. “Everyone move away from the door.”
The cabin was already crowded, and it became even more cramped as the other passengers pressed back so Stikes could slide open the door. A freezing, snow-laden wind blew in. The mercenary braced himself against the frame as he leaned out and aimed at the man below.
Eddie searched for cover. The nearest tree was the one the snowmobile had hit, flames licking up its trunk. But if he ran straight for it he would be presenting his back to the gunman above.
Instead he dived back into the piled snow as the MP5 fired. Bullets slapped into the drift and debris behind him. He rolled as he landed to offer the smallest possible target. The cable car was carrying his attacker inexorably