Fryingpan: Ghost Eagle 2

By James Wallace

Spy satellites at Buckley Air Force Base intercept a cryptic communication between terrorists in the Middle East.

No one can decode the message. But one thing seems clear.

Something terrible is hidden deep within one of America's national forests. The terrorists know the location and are on the way in.

With only days to stop unthinkable destruction, the president authorizes early activation of Ghost Eagle 2, Team Shining Mountains.

Led by the wealthy and mysterious CIA operative Portia Olivia Hanscomb, Shining Mountains will operate out of Chateau de Montagne, in Aspen, Colorado. On the team are Matt Yancey and Ute Indian twins Luke and Lucia Thompson-all in their junior year at Aurora High.

Ghost Eagle 1, Team Kamehameha, is enroute to join them.

Nobody knows where the terrorists are, where they're going, or how much time is left.

But the terrorists don't realize they've just set foot on sacred ground-the ancestral lands of the Utes the people of the Shining Mountains.

Will the eagle catch its prey? A quarter-million lives hang in the balance. The hunt is on.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Aug 12, 2005
• ISBN: 9780595786367

James Wallace

James Wallace began his GHOST EAGLES® adventure series for young adults with his acclaimed novel TSUNAMI Ghost Eagle 1, set in Hawaii. He now brings the action to the majestic Rocky Mountains in FRYINGPAN Ghost Eagle 2. James and his wife, Nancy, have five children (including three teens) and formerly lived in Estes Park, Colorado.

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Copyright © 2005 by James Wallace

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any

means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

iUniverse books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

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Cover photo copyright Andy Cook

(the eagle was superimposed onto the photo)

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ISBN-13: 978-0-595-33849-8 (pbk)

ISBN-13: 978-0-595-78636-7 (ebk)

ISBN-10: 0-595-33849-6 (pbk)

ISBN-10: 0-595-78636-7 (ebk)

CONTENTS

DEDICATION

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

AUTHOR’S NOTE

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 40

EPILOGUE

DEDICATION

First, to my father, Murray Wallace, in memoriam. I wish I could hand you the first copy, Dad. I miss you.

Second, to my daughter Jamie, of whom I am very proud. Keep striving for excellence in all that you do.

Finally, to all our veterans, living and deceased, and all our active-duty soldiers. We owe them an immeasurable debt of gratitude. I would like to pay a special tribute to Pat Tillman. He gave up a multimillion-dollar career in the NFL to become an Army Ranger, and he made the ultimate sacrifice for his country and for the cause of freedom. Doyle Short, a friend of mine and one of the original UDT Frogmen in World War II, died the day after Tillman was killed in action. They are probably trading stories now. Heroes, all.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thanks once again to my mother, for constructive comments on the manuscript and for continuing encouragement and ideas.

Thanks also to Andy Cook, who is based in Colorado Springs, for the use of his photograph of Longs Peak at sunrise. You may find his website by searching using the phrase rocky mountain reflections or andy cook.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

For readers who wish to follow the action on the ground, I have not attempted to draw a topography map of the area around Aspen. A better solution is to refer you to one of the free online topography mapping services. I typically use topozone.com, although there are others (maptech.com comes to mind) that should work just as well.

I suggest starting out with the location where Team Shining Mountains begins its pursuit of the terrorists, crossing Fryingpan River, just west of Ruedi Reservoir. Simply pull up the map for Aspen, Colorado, and then move north until you see Ruedi Reservoir, Fryingpan River, Bear Creek, and Rocky Creek. From there, you can move in various directions to track the teams as the plot unfolds. You can also enlarge the map, change the scale (zoom in or out), and save or print one or more versions for convenience.

What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.

—Crowfoot, Blackfoot warrior and orator

What is freedom? It is the unrestrained ability to enjoy the things of which Crowfoot so eloquently spoke—a natural right to live without tyranny or terror, bestowed by the Creator upon all people. All who defend it pursue the noblest of causes.

—Author

I will never let the spirit of the eagle die. Shining Mountains. My people…my team.

—Luke Thompson

PROLOGUE

PART ONE

Snowmass Mountain, Colorado

March 10,4:00 p.m.

Last run, guys, BT said. We’re packing it in, see you at the house. He was speaking into a tiny microphone.

Ok, Dad, Lucia said. They were all wearing MCDs—Mobile Communication Devices. Coby had brought the headsets with him.

The throng of people at the base of the mountain made it difficult to hear, even with the MCDs. Half of the people were scrambling to get onto one of the two lifts for one last run before the four-thirty close, and the other half were jockeying to get into Snowmass Center and out into the parking lot to go home. Ordinarily, mid-week would be light, but this was spring break. The mountain was packed with skiers and snowboarders of all shapes, sizes, and ages.

Luke, Lucia, and Matt were bunched together in line for the Wood Run lift. From the end of Wood Run, they would ski to the Alpine Springs lift, and then to High Alpine, which would take them to the top of the mountain. Once they were on top, they had just about the whole mountain to choose from for the last run down.

Lucia’s right ski wouldn’t budge. She turned her head to look behind her. Someone else’s ski was on top of hers. Her eyes moved upward from the ski to the leg, past a bulging belly, and finally to the face of the offender. It was a middle-aged man in a pale yellow ski suit with lime green stripes. He was busy talking to the woman next to him. She was sporting big hair and a hot-pink ski suit with a matching head band.

Excuse me, Lucia said. The man kept talking to the woman. EXCUSE ME, Lucia repeated, much more loudly, as she waved her hand in front of the man’s face and pointed at his ski. The man moved his ski, but didn’t apologize.

Jerk, Lucia thought. He thinks he’s Mr. Cool Skis, but he looks more like the Easter Bunny gone bad. She looked toward the main building and just caught a glimpse of Coby, Portia, and her dad. The threesome—black, purple, and blue—was a step away from the door. The colors referred not to any injuries, but to the colors of their ski suits. That was the easiest way to identify someone on the mountain, although Portia’s long, blond hair made her an easy find anyway.

How about Headwall to Lower Ladder, then each man for himself, first one back to base gets to pick the movie tonight? Luke asked. Headwall was a black, double-diamond run along the crest of the mountain. It connected with Lower Ladder, another expert run that led to the blue, intermediate runs that would take them the rest of the way down.

Speak for yourself, Lucia said, somewhat indignantly. "Each man?"

Luke laughed. Get over it, little sis, Luke said.

And stop it with the ‘little sis’ stuff, Lucia said. You beat me out by two minutes.

Two minutes or two years, I’m older, Luke said.

Age before beauty, Lucia said.

That’s your best comeback? Luke said. That one’s as old as this mountain.

And still as true as the day this mountain was created, Lucia shot back.

We’re up, Matt interjected, as the lift made its U-turn and headed for them. A few seconds later they were in the air, headed toward the ski run that would take them to the Alpine Springs lift. Ten minutes later, they were on Alpine Springs.

Coby, BT, and Portia removed their MCD headsets and shuffled toward the entrance. Once they were in Portia’s Range Rover, it would be a short hop back to her house in Aspen. Coby had flown in from Kauai three days ago, and would be staying through the end of the week, along with BT, Luke, Lucia, and Matt. Portia’s hospitality was legendary, and she spared no expense to keep her guests comfortable.

As soon as we get home, I’ll put on a fire and whip up some hot buttered rums for a little après ski, Portia said. Matt, Luke, and Lucia would be at least an hour behind them. Portia would make hot chocolate and cappuccinos for them. Tonight, the menu is lobster chowder, medallions of beef tenderloin, grilled vegetable medley, and for dessert, my secret-recipe crème brû—

TREV!… TREV!… TREVOR!… TREEVOOR! The woman’s voice was shrill.

What’s going on? BT asked.

Don’t know, Coby said, as he turned his head in the direction of the cries. There…the woman in the white ski suit…dark hair…security officer is beside her. Coby began to make his way over to the woman. BT and Portia were a step behind him. The security officer was talking into his radio. The woman and the officer were scanning in every direction.

Coby hesitated for a moment when he saw the woman’s face. That looks like Jules Saucone, he said to Portia and BT. Both of them stopped to look.

It is, Portia said. She’s got a house on Red Mountain. Trevor is her little boy. Excuse me a sec, guys. Portia pushed her way through the gathering crowd.

Jules! Portia said. What’s wrong?

Portia…it’s Trevor! I’ve lost him! He was right with me on our last run, then I lost him in the crowd at the base! I’ve looked everywhere outside…and now I can’t find him in here either! Portia, help!

Portia could see that her friend was on the verge of hysteria. The thought that someone could have grabbed Trevor put a knot in Portia’s stomach. We’ll find him Jules. Did he still have his skis on when you last saw him?

Yes…we were at the base, near Wood Run. He was right behind me, then he was gone!

Have you given the security officer a description of Trevor?

Yes.

Portia turned to the security officer. Get the police over here, now, and we need aerial surveillance—call in the Pitkin County search and rescue chopper. Give them the complete description of the missing child. Post officers at each entrance between this building and the parking areas, and at each parking exit.

The officer hesitated.

Do it now! Portia yelled. Please!

Yes mam.

Portia pulled out her trail map. If someone took him, they probably think the search efforts will focus on the parking areas…hmmm…Wood Run…easiest way back up would be Wood Run to Alpine Springs.or Naked Lady…can’t rule out the Funnel lift either.

Portia turned to the officer, who was barking orders on his hand-held radio. She grabbed his arm the second he stopped talking. We need to stop these lifts on each off load to check skiers. Radio the kid’s description to each terminal. She was using a pen to mark on the map. She handed the map to the officer. Five lifts had black circles around them. The security officer nodded.

Thank you, Portia, Jules said.

Portia hugged her. We’ll find him. Come on, let’s look outside. She pulled her MCD out of her fanny pack and put it on, quickly adjusting the earpiece and mouthpiece. Luke, Lucia, Matt, this is Portia. Where are you?

Hey, Portia, we’re about to get off Alpine Springs, heading for High Alpine, Luke said.

Ok, listen, I need your help. I’m at Snowmass Center with Jules Saucone. Her little boy Trevor is missing. Someone may have taken him, and they may be on the mountain. I need your eyes up there. I’m putting Jules on to give you the boy’s description.

You mean the actress Jules Saucone? Lucia asked. She looked at Luke and Matt.

Correct…here she is. Portia removed her MCD and helped Jules put it on.

Hello? Can you hear me?

Go ahead, Ms. Saucone, Luke said.

Ok…Trevor is five years old, average size, blond hair, medium length…oh, he’s wearing a black ski suit…and goggles…nothing on his head.

What about any markings or designs on the ski suit? Matt asked.

No, I don’t think…wait…yes, let me think.. She squeezed her eyes shut. Yes, under each arm of the ski suit there are green stripes or something that go part way down the sides, some kind of design…not exactly a stripe, but some green color…does that help?

Yes, we’ll start looking, Matt said.

Thank you…thank you so much. She removed the headset and handed it back to Portia.

This is Portia. Keep me posted on your location and what you see…we should have a chopper in the air within the half hour.

Ok Portia…we are off Alpine Springs, skiing toward High Alpine, Luke said.

Guys, look for a man with a small child, Portia said. We have to assume a kidnapping. Probably for ransom. Look for anything out of the ordinary…like an adult holding a child in an unusual way…a struggle…anything.

Will do, Lucia said. I read that Jules Saucone gets ten million per movie…whoever took her little boy must have known who he was. None of them had met Jules Saucone, but they had heard Portia mention her name occasionally.

We’re getting on High Alpine, Luke reported a few minutes later. It’s starting to thin out up here.

How many chairs ahead of you are filled? Portia asked.

Only three out of about ten that I can see, Luke said.

Portia, ask Ms. Saucone how good a skier her boy is…can he ski black runs? Lucia asked.

Good question, hold on. No one spoke during the wait. He has skied some easier black runs, and he is good on blues, but has trouble with moguls.

Ok, thanks, Lucia said. She scanned the mountain. Don’t see much so far…hold on…there’s an adult with a child, dark ski suit…no, it’s a girl, long dark hair…the adult is also a woman…hey, our lift stopped.

We asked them to stop and check each off load on about five lifts, Portia said.

Hey, look! Matt almost shouted. He was pointing to his left. There, on Turkey Trot! The High Alpine lift had stopped almost even with the long, blue run.

Where?! Luke asked. There were a dozen skiers visible on the run, all making their way down the mountain.

Look farther down the run. see the large skier with the smaller one? Matt half-yelled. The kid’s ski suit is black!

And the big skier is awfully close to the kid…like a ski lesson, Lucia said.

Luke, who had 20/15 vision, was staring at the pair of skiers. The kid’s arms are down…can’t make out hair color…no cap…the big guy just grabbed his arm…it’s green! I see green! Portia! It’s him! It’s him! We’re about to lose them! The lift is still stopped!

Great job, guys, we’re moving now, Portia said.

They won’t ski all the way down…there’s tons of woods to hide in, along the downhill slope of that run! Luke yelled.

We’ll have them boxed in and will set up a perimeter, Portia said.

We’ve lost visual contact! Luke said. He began to glance around wildly, first at the ground, then back at Turkey Trot, then at the end of the lift up the mountain. Matt, Lucia, move your hands and hold on to the back of the chair, I’m raising the bar.

Luke, no! Lucia yelled. But the bar was up.

Luke, don’t do it! Portia yelled.

PART TWO

Luke threw his ski poles over the side, as far as he could, to get them out of the way. Then he jumped. He flared his skis. He was falling through the air. He had guessed the drop at forty feet, plus or minus. He braced for the impact.

IMPACT! Luke hit the ground hard and fell backward on his skis in a cloud of powder. The next thing Matt and Lucia saw was Luke bursting out of the powder, still on his skis, and burning a line for Turkey Trot.

Lucia and Matt looked at each other. Portia, he jumped! Matt shouted. He’s ok! He made it! He’s headed for the man and the boy!

Ok…you two stay put!

I’m going! Matt yelled.

Me too! Lucia yelled. They scooted to opposite sides of the bench.

No, don’t ju—

Toss your poles! Matt yelled. On three! One…two…THREE!

Lucia and Matt jumped at the same instant, both of them hurtling toward the mountain, and both trying desperately to keep their bodies upright and their skis in position for landing. Matt landed on one ski and took a spill. Lucia hit with both skis, but the impact knocked her off balance. Both of them were down.

Luc—Matt! Ma—Lucia! Lucia! Matt! Portia, BT, and Coby were all yelling on their MCDs at the same time.

Matt, are you ok?! It was Lucia’s voice. She was back up on her skis, headed for Matt, who had landed ten feet away. He was still down. Matt!

I’m ok! Matt yelled. I lost a ski and my MCD in the powder! Lucia helped Matt to his feet. They grabbed their ski poles and started poking at the powder. Got it! Matt dug the ski out of the snow and snapped it into place on his boot. Forget the MCD, let’s go!

We’re ok, headed after Luke! Lucia yelled into her MCD.

Luke was zipping by other skiers as he tried to close the gap. If they’re still on the run, I’ll catch them! He was skiing in as straight a line as he could manage, like a downhill racer—crouched position, arms tucked. He had no poles and almost lost it on a couple of turns. But he was closing the gap!

Luke made it around a gradual bend to the left. Ahead of him was a long straightaway. Where are they! His mind was racing. His heart was pumping wildly. Where are they?! Come on!.. .GOT ‘EM! I’ve got a visual!

Luke, this is Dad! Track ‘em, don’t confront! He could be armed!

Dad…he could kill the boy…he’s looking back! He sees me! They’re heading into the woods, downslope side! I’m fifty yards back!

Luke, this is Lucia! Matt and I are behind you! Mark the spot!

Lucia! Got it and closing…I’m there! THE BOY! He let him go! I see him just inside the woods! He’s ok! What’s his name?!

It’s TREVOR, TREVOR! Portia yelled into her MCD. Jules, Luke’s got Trevor, he’s ok! Jules Saucone collapsed into Portia’s arms, sobbing.

TREVOR! Luke yelled. I’m Luke.you’re safe now.your mom sent us to find you! The little boy was shaking and crying, but not injured. Lucia and Matt skied up behind Luke. Luke glanced at them, and then crouched down beside Trevor. These are my friends, Matt and Lucia.

Are you ok, Trevor? Lucia asked, holding out her arms. The boy managed only a slight nod. Portia, he’s traumatized, but ok. I’m bringing him down. Come on, Trevor, I’m Lucia, I’ll take you to see your mom…would you like that? Trevor nodded. Here, you can talk to her right now, with this walkie-talkie. Lucia fitted her MCD onto Trevor’s head. Portia, Trevor has my MCD.give yours to Ms. Saucone. A moment later, Trevor broke into a wide grin.

Ready? Lucia asked, returning the grin.

Ready! A small voice answered.

Lucia, hang on, I need the MCD, Matt said.

Why?

To go help Luke.

Lucia looked around. Luke was gone. He was going after the kidnapper. Oh my gosh. A sick feeling hit her in the stomach.

Can I borrow the walkie-talkie, Trevor? Trevor nodded at Matt. Matt gently lifted the MCD off Trevor’s head as Lucia stared into the woods. Thanks, little guy, Matt