The Romanov Ransom (Fargo Adventures 9)

“I’d feel better if there were two sets instead of just one,” Remi said.

He looked up toward Camel Rock, then back toward the area that Durin had said they’d traveled. “If they took that other trail that comes out above the ledge where we saw that jacket, these might not even belong to one of them.”

He rested his hand on the butt of his holstered Smith & Wesson, thinking of the panicked voice mail and the mention of someone shooting at the boys. The sole set of footprints bothered Remi as well because he saw her doing the same with her Sig.

Finally, they reached the area below the ledge. Sam craned his head back, looking up at the wall in front of them, before moving back to get a better view. “This looks doable.”

“That’s pretty high.”

He smiled at her, then turned toward the wall. The crack, running vertically up the rock sheer, varied in size from a finger’s width to wide enough to step into. Sam took the lead, placing the cams and anchoring the rope, as Remi took up the slack from below. Getting to the ledge where they saw the jacket was going to take a bit more finesse. The cracks they were using to ascend angled to the right away from it.

The first fat drops of rain started to fall as they made their ascent. The higher they climbed, the stronger the wind blew. Rain lashed at their faces, soaking through their fingerless gloves.

Sam placed a cam, tugging to make sure it was secure, when a wind shear blasted down, knocking them against the rock. Remi, in the midst of reaching up, lost her grip on the wet rope, slipping. Her harness jolted as the rope went taut, breaking her fall. He saw her dangling below him, the wind spinning her like a top.

“Remi!”

Lightning flashed overhead, followed a few seconds later by the crack of thunder, as the storm raged over them. He tried not to think of all the metal cams hanging from their slings, turning them into human lightning rods.

Remi reached out, stopped her spinning by grabbing at the cam jammed into the crack.

“You okay?” he shouted, barely able to hear the words himself.

She nodded, then pointed up.

As if they had a choice of any direction but. They were forced to climb at a much slower pace, the wind and rain turning what should have been an easy climb into a treacherous one. Sam realized they were going to have to take cover. The only possible place was the ledge where Brand’s jacket was found. He looked down and called out to Remi. “The ledge!”

They slowly made their way over. Sam climbed up over the edge, then reached down, grasping Remi’s arm, helping her up. Safely on solid ground, they looked at the red jacket, noticing its unusual appearance as the wind rippled the nylon material.

“Sam!” she said, shouting to be heard. “Rocks inside.”

“To keep it from blowing away.”

Which meant someone had knotted the sleeves to hold the stones . . .

A sense of relief swept through him as he looked up, trying to see what, if anything, was on the cliffs above them. Surely that meant they were up there. Whether hurt, hiding, or both, it was definitely a sign put out to let someone know where they were.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and called out their names.

The only thing they heard in return was the sound of the wind whistling through the craggy rocks above them.

“If they’re near the top,” Sam said, “or tucked in some crevice, they might not be able to hear over the wind gusts.”

He scooped up the jacket, dumped the rocks from the sleeves, stuffed it into his pack, then joined Remi beneath the cliff’s overhang. It offered some protection, though not much, the wind still gusting. They huddled together to wait out the worst of the storm. At one point, Sam checked the other side to see how Zakaria was faring. Rain splattered against the binocular lenses, making it difficult to see clearly.

“Is he there?” Remi asked.

“In the car.”

“At least someone’s warm and dry.”

He tucked the binoculars away, then took out some beef jerky and water. By the time they finished their quick meal, the wind and rain had lessened. Within a half hour, the sun actually broke through, though black clouds still threatened. “Let’s get up there while we can.”

They reached the crest, walking until they saw the camel head. From the other side, it had appeared to be one solid rock. As they neared, though, it looked less like a head and more like a jumble of boulders and crevices. A clear path at the back of the so-called head led right up to the edge of the gorge. Sam looked down, saw that the cliff jutted out, preventing them from seeing down to the ledge where they’d just taken shelter. “They didn’t drop the jacket from here. Has to be the other side of the head.”

Remi eyed the jumble they’d have to get across. The wet rocks were slippery, the edges sharp, and it would be slow going. “We might have to reassess our dinner plans by the time we get them out of here.”

“Let’s find them first.”