Page 340 of Rangers Mountain Rescue
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Havoc
The mountain changes everything.
Terrain.
Visibility.
Sound.
Up here?
Mistakes get you killed faster.
We kill the engines a mile out.
No lights.
No noise.
No second chances.
“From here, we walk,” I say.
No one argues.
They know better.
The air is thinner.
Colder.
Sharp enough to cut through the lungs if you’re not ready for it.
We move in staggered formation.
Rangers take point.
CIA shadows us—still too close, still watching, still calculating.
I let them.
For now.
“Thermals are picking up heat signatures,” the agent whispers.
He hands me the tablet.
I study it.
Dots.
Multiple.
Layered.
Not random.
