The Romanov Ransom

83

Morning took its sweet time arriving. Remi shifted in the crook of Sam’s arm, taking a deep sigh.

“You’re awake,” Sam said.

“I’m not sure I ever slept.” She sat up, turning on her flashlight. “It’s still dark in here. I was hoping for daylight.” She looked over at Dietrich, who was seated to her left. “How about you? Any rest?”

“Not much,” Dietrich said. “It sounds like the wind is dying down somewhat.”

Not enough for Sam’s liking. The constant whistling through the tunnel they’d dug up in the cockpit had lessened a bit in the early morning hours, giving him hope that there wasn’t too much weight added to the snowpack on that right shoulder. But it had started up again at daybreak and didn’t show any sign of lessening.

“Maybe we should try to call,” Dietrich said, standing, clearly anxious. “I’ll go. I don’t mind a little cold. Maybe I could climb out far enough to get a signal.”

“It’s not the cold,” Sam said, realizing he had no choice but to be up front. “That wind was blowing snow straight into that peak all night. As long as there’s a risk of avalanche, we’re better off staying right where we are.”

“So we just wait?” Dietrich asked.

“Not much choice. No sense getting out before our rescuers can start searching. Looks like we’ll be here for a while. I don’t suppose anyone brought cards?”

“Poor planning on our part,” Remi said.

A long stretch of silence followed, broken only by the wind whistling through the tunnel up in the cockpit. Even though the storm showed no sign of letting up, the tunnel they’d dug remained clear, and they took turns checking on it, making sure their braces were holding under the weight of the new snow.

Sam went up to check one last time before they settled in for that night’s ration of protein bars. So far, so good, he thought, able to see a few stars in the black sky. The wind was still fierce, but he hoped it would soon die down.

“How is it?” Remi asked as he joined them back in the hold.

“Snow’s stopped.”

“That’s good, then, right?” Dietrich said as the wind gusted through the barrier.

“Let’s hope so.”

Remi glanced at Sam, saying nothing. Her expression told him that she knew the bigger danger with all that new snowfall was the wind blowing it against the mountainside. He still held out hope, but as they sat there eating, they heard a low rumble and felt a vibration that seemed to penetrate them, followed by a swoosh of air coming from the cockpit as the avalanche covered them.

Sam grabbed his flashlight and shovel, rushed up the ladder, removing the barricade they’d erected to keep out the cold and snow.

“How bad is it?” Dietrich asked as he looked around.

“The tunnel collapsed.” He started digging.

“Of all the bad luck,” Dietrich said, stepping in to help. “This?”

“Definitely lucky,” Sam said.

“How?”

“We were close to the plane for the first avalanche. Had we been any farther away, we’d be buried at the bottom of the mountain. This avalanche, we’re safe inside. Doesn’t get much luckier than that.”

“And to think,” Dietrich said, “I wanted to climb out there to try to call for help.”

“Which shouldn’t be a problem now that the risk is over,” Sam said, using his shovel to scoop down into the hold the snow that Dietrich was digging out.

Icy wind whipped into the cockpit when they finally cleared the tunnel. Unfortunately, most of the wood they’d salvaged from the seats had snapped from the weight of the new snow.

“We’re going to need some way to shore this up,” Sam said, glancing over at Remi, who was watching from the ladder while she held the light for them.

She shivered as she eyed the narrow space and the bit of black sky through the hole. “This may be wishful thinking,” she said, “but any chance we can make a call?”

Sam dug the satellite phone from his pocket, powered it on, and held it near the tunnel. “Not looking good,” he said.

“The storm?” Remi asked. “Or the signal?”

“Both. The wind’s strong, signal’s nonexistent. But the biggest danger’s over, so no harm riding it out until morning.” He pocketed the phone, looking back at her. “Let’s get this tunnel fixed. We have a few more seats we can tear apart, but I’m not sure there’s going to be enough wood.”

“What about that suitcase we found?” Remi said. “I’ll get it.”

The suitcase worked better than he’d expected. “That’s a good start,” Sam said, working the two halves into place. “We need something else to brace it.”

“Snowshoes?” Dietrich suggested.

“We’re going to need those to trek through that snow, once the storm ends.” He climbed down, looking around the fuselage. “Let’s see if we can’t loosen up a couple more of those seats.”

Sam and Dietrich pulled together on one seat back, which broke almost too easily, sending Sam back into Remi, knocking the flashlight from her hand. It hit the ground and spun beneath the seats near the front. She got down on her knees, retrieved it, but stopped and reached for something else.

“What is it?” Sam asked.

“Another suitcase under here. I can’t get it out.”