1. Sawyer

1

SAWYER

T he unforgiving Artic storm clung to Captain Sawyer Berkeley like a second skin, the cold biting through her layers, nipping at her exposed face as she trudged through the thick snow. The air was so frigid she felt as though it could crack, and beyond the well-lit exterior of the base, the darkness was vast and endless. A snowstorm from the night before had only just passed, which left the area in a deafening silence broken only by the faint whistling of the wind and the steady, purposeful beat of her boots against the frozen ground.

A sigh escaped her lips in the form of a small frosty cloud as she approached the base, the harsh exterior lights illuminating the steel fences that she pushed through. Warmth brushed her cheeks as she stepped into the corridor, the blast of hot air hitting her like a wave. The sudden heat made her skin prickle and tingle as the ice that clung to her gear and short mocha hair began to melt.

The base was alive with the low hum of generators, mingled with the distant murmur of voices and the occasional clatter of equipment. Sawyer peeled off her gloves and flexed her fingers as sensation returned, her weather-sore limbs beginning to thaw. She extended a nod to the soldiers who saluted in greeting as they passed her, the sight of their shivering surprising her.

While everyone else seemed to struggle under such harsh weather, years of Arctic training had hardened her to such conditions, making her as much a part of this frozen landscape as the snow-covered peaks that stretched across the horizon.

Her boots thudded against the floor as she strode purposefully, the sound bouncing off the walls of the tight corridor as she made her way to the command center. Sawyer was always like this before a mission—focused, determined, and a little on edge. But it wasn’t nerves. She didn’t get nervous. It was more so an awareness, a sense of preparation for anything that may go wrong. Over the years, she’d quickly learned that out here in the Alaskan wilderness, things could go wrong very quickly and unexpectedly.

Tonight was no different. Sawyer had been appointed the leader of a cold-weather training mission for her team, a feisty group of Army Rangers who were already highly capable yet still needed further hardening in order to survive out in these erratic conditions. The mission was routine enough, merely a week-long excursion deep into the wild with the goals of improving their survival skills and putting their limits to the test against the elements. But Sawyer had learned long ago that there was no such thing as routine in the Arctic. The wilderness had a way of humbling even the most prepared soldiers.

That was why Sawyer had been selected to inspect Icebreaker Station, the outpost where she and her team would be staying before she took them out. Her superiors knew she was well-experienced in the Arctic, on top of the fact she was a hell of a Captain and a natural born leader. They trusted her ability to lead her team and to train them, just as much as they trusted her instincts to make sure the Station was fit for the mission. If something was off, she’d notice it right away.

Of course, even the most calculated, most organized objectives could be dramatically thrown off balance by a sudden storm, even a mere shift in the wind. It was why she had requested the base’s Air Force meteorologist to accompany.

Normally, Sawyer preferred to handle this sort of work independently. There was only one person she trusted 100%, and that was herself. But with the threat of a potential upcoming storm, she believed it might be beneficial to put aside her own judgment for now and get an expert on-site to assess the conditions and provide real-time information.

Sawyer came to a stop in front of the closed door of the command center. The warmth seeped into her bones, and for a moment she stood there and allowed herself to relax after the punishing cold outside.

The meteorologist’s name was Lieutenant Mirren Reed, she remembered her superior saying. She’d never met the woman before—in fact, she hadn’t really interacted much with members of the Air Force at all. The Army and the Air Force were two very different worlds that didn’t often collide, and she couldn’t think of a single scenario other than her current one where she’d cross paths with a meteorologist.

Her life was one of action, physical endurance, and survival in many different cruel environments. Meteorologists were numbers, charts, and required no blood, sweat, or tears, and rarely necessitated stepping foot out of a safe building.

But Sawyer lived a life full of the need for constant control, and the weather was one of the few things she couldn’t control. So, she’d have to make this one exception. If this Lieutenant Reed woman could help mitigate that risk, she was willing to listen.

With one last relaxing inhale, Sawyer pushed through the door and stepped inside. The hum of computers and low murmur of voices filled her ears, and a few heads turning her way as she walked down concrete aisle. She scanned the room carefully. A few heads turned her way, but she ignored them, her gaze continuing to sweep across the room until she spotted exactly whom she was looking for tucked away in the back corner.

Lieutenant Mirren Reed stood near a bank of monitors, her back to Sawyer. Sawyer took a few seconds to inspect her closely. She was slender, quite a few inches shorter than she was, with her long, dark hair pulled into the neat braid the captain had recognized from the photo of the woman’s file that had been slapped on her desk early this morning shortly after she’d put in the formal request.

Even from this distance, she could feel the way the woman’s presence filled the room. She noticed how composed she was, the way she moved her hands as she spoke to those surrounding her radiating intelligence. Mirren shifted slightly, and Sawyer caught a glimpse of her profile—delicate, almost deer-like features framed by the soft blue light of the screen, her eyes glinting with focus.

A flicker of an unfamiliar feeling sparking in her chest prompted Sawyer to hesitate for a brief moment. It was a feeling she quickly recognized as attraction. She couldn’t deny it just as much as she couldn’t push the feeling a way. Mirren was, without a doubt, strikingly beautiful. Even with the cold and exhaustion creasing her expressions, her pretty looks sent tingles of curiosity shooting up Sawyer’s arms, mixed with a deeper, more instinctive response.

Sawyer didn’t waste any time trying to deduce what these feelings were. It was a distraction, and she didn’t like distractions. Pushing her feelings to the side, Sawyer cleared her throat as she stepped forward. “Lieutenant Reed?”

The woman tensed slightly, then turned to fully face her, blue eyes as icy as the wind outside. There was a calmness in her gaze, briefly overcome by a look Sawyer couldn’t figure out quickly enough before it disappeared as fast as it came. “You must be Captain Berkeley,” Mirren replied in a voice that was soft but steady and paired with a small, respectful smile.

“We’re scheduled to leave in fifteen minutes,” Sawyer said, ignoring all her feelings entirely as she kept her tone neutral and to the point. “I trust you’re ready?”

“Of course,” Mirren replied with a nod. “I’ve already prepared all the necessary equipment. I also took the chance to briefly review the latest data. The weather looks stable for now, but I’ll monitor it closely during our trip.”

Sawyer returned a curt nod. Despite the strange thoughts in the back of her mind that beckoned otherwise, there was no need for small talk or pleasantries, not when they were expected to report back on their findings in the morning.

“Good,” she said. “We’ll take a Humvee to the outpost. Make sure you’ve layered well. It’s a long drive.”

Mirren’s lips quirked slightly, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I’m aware, Captain. I’ve been stationed here for a day now.”

Sawyer felt a brief flicker of something almost like amusement at the subtle challenge in Mirren’s words. She liked that. It showed confidence, an assurance in her own abilities. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be as tedious as she’d expected.

She nodded again, more to herself than to Mirren. “Meet me outside when you’re ready,” she said before turning to leave, already mentally mapping out the route they would take.

As she turned and began to leave the room, Sawyer struggled to shake the image of Mirren’s gaze, those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through her. It had been a long time since anyone or anything had made her feel…anything, really. She was a soldier first and foremost. A captain. There was no more to her life than her duty, no need for anything else. And if anything else ever did come, it would be secondary.

While she felt conflicted over her alien feelings, her odd pique in interest in a woman she’d barely just met, she shook her thoughts away. It didn’t matter.

The mission came first, and whatever this was, she decided she would deal with it later—if at all.

----

The Humvee’s engine snarled against the endless white terrain, tires crunching over snow-packed roads as they moved deeper into the wilderness. The drive to Icebreaker Station was long and uneventful, the conversation kept short the odd times either of them spoke up. Sawyer kept her eyes focused on the stretch of road in front of her which was well-lit by the bright lights of the vehicle, while Mirren sat quietly beside her, her eyes glued to her tablet as she scrolled through her notes and weather data.

The silence between the pair wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, which each individual focused on their own thing. But it was heavy with he unspoken tension that came from two strangers being forced together by convenience. The unfamiliar feelings brewing in the pit of Sawyer’s stomach didn’t help at all to ease that tension.

Every so often, when she caught Mirren burying herself deeper into the contents of her screen, Sawyer would steal a glance at her, but only when she was certain the other woman wasn’t looking. And those times she did look in her direction, it was as if there was a supernatural force that made it hard for her to look away. There was something about Mirren’s presence that was so…magnetizing, borderline hypnotizing, and it frustrated Sawyer to no end that she couldn’t figure out what it was. The woman who always had a solution for every one of her problems suddenly had no answers cross her mind when it came to this woman. It was frustrating.

“Anything I should know about the weather?” Sawyer was the first to break the silence after a while, more so to do exactly that than out of necessity.

Mirren looked up from her tablet, her gaze barely meeting Sawyer’s briefly before it returned to the glowing screen. “No significant changes since we left,” came her response, spoken in a distracted hum. There was something about the silkiness of her voice that caused a weird feeling to slide down Sawyer’s spine. “The temperature is dropping, but it’s within expected parameters. The wind is picking up a bit, but nothing too drastic. Nothing concerning that should sideline our work.”

Sawyer nodded with satisfaction at the answer. “Good,” she said. “I want this inspection done quickly but thoroughly. The sooner we get that done, the sooner we confirm the outpost is secure, the better.”

“Agreed.” Mirren responded. A brief pause washed over the pair before the younger woman added, “I admire your thoroughness, Captain. Not everyone would go out of their way to take the time to do this.”

A weird feeling panged in Sawyer’s chest. The captain glanced at her, feeling off guard by the comment. “I don’t take chances with my team’s safety,” she responded in a firm tone, hiding her feelings well. “And I don’t trust anyone else to do my job.”

Mirren nodded as a faint smile played on her lips. “I can respect that.”

For a moment they were silent again with only the steady hum of the engine and the crunch of snow beneath the tires. But the air between them had shifted ever so slightly, perhaps due to the subtle acknowledgement of their mutual respect. It was enough for Sawyer to help the journey feel a little less cold. A part of her urged her to say more, but no ideas came to mind as to how to continue the conversation, so she found peace in the silence instead.

The weather worsened as they neared Icebreaker Station. The road thinned out to a narrow trail enveloped by deep snowdrifts, with steep inclines and sharp drops that made driving difficult and requiring intense focus to navigate. The wind had picked up, howling through the mountains, while the sky had shifted into a grayish hue, the first hints of the storm to come.

Sawyer slowed the Humvee as they approached the outpost, her eyes scanning the small, study building nestled between two ridges. The ridges helped to protect the outpost from harsher winds, but it didn’t make it any less susceptible to heavy snowfall. It looked as it always did, a solid, reliable structure. However, out here, Sawyer knew all too well that the Arctic had a way of wearing things down, of revealing weaknesses that couldn’t be seen from the outside.

Killing the engine, Sawyer parked the Humvee, bathing the pair in a sudden silence barely cracked by the lowly, almost haunting howl of the winds outside. “Let’s make this quick,” she said without sharing a glance with the younger woman in the passenger seat. Sawyer reached behind her to grab her rucksack before stepping out into the biting cold. Mirren followed quickly after her. The wind immediately cut through her layers, but she ignored it, pushing through the heavy snow as she kept her focus on the task at hand. Mirren stayed close behind.

They approached the outpost together, their boots sinking into the deep snow with each step, their footprints disappearing in their wake as fast as they had imprinted. Sawyer reached the door first, testing the handle before pushing it open.

It had been left exactly as Sawyer remembered. The two women were met with a cold, dark interior. Bunk beds lined one wall. Table and chairs sat in the middle of the room with a wood stove tucked in the back room. Besides a few pieces of furniture and shelves stocked with emergency supplies, the outpost was mostly bare and functional, with just enough room for a small team to stay for a few days.

Mirren moved inside right after Sawyer, her eyes adjusting to the dim light as she took in the space. “Cozy,” she commented.

Sawyer glanced to her right to meet Mirren’s gaze, hints of amusement flashing in the woman’s cerulean orbs. A flicker of warmth ignited in her chest at the sight of her, and she found herself suddenly pinned under the woman’s eyes, unable to move a muscle or make a sound. She was only able to nod in response before she made way for the wood stove. It was their only source of heat, so she made sure she checked it before doing anything else, making sure it was in working order. Luckily, it was.

Mirren, meanwhile, was already at the far end of the room setting up her equipment on the table. Her hands deftly arranged instruments and tapped at her tablet while she hummed a nearly silent tune. Sawyer snuck another glance at her through the corner of her eyes. The way the woman worked, completely absorbed in her task, reminded Sawyer of how she herself approached missions—with a singleminded focus that shut out everything else. She should have been satisfied that every single little thing she picked up about Mirren proved she was reliable. But the unknown feelings that surfaced every time she looked at the woman left her a bit frustrated instead.

Satisfied that the stove was operational, Sawyer turned her attention to the rest of the outpost. She checked everything meticulously from the structural integrity of the walls to the condition of the supplies and then finally the state of the bunk beds. Everything appeared to be in order, but she’d never been the type of person to let her guard down. Especially out here, where the rough environment had a way of exploiting even the smallest weaknesses. They could be in complete control, yet something could find a way to go wrong.

“How many times have you been here?” Mirren perked up, curiosity and friendliness coloring her tone. Sawyer wasn’t used to such pleasantries, having been surrounded by battle-hardened, focused soldiers like herself for her entire career. She wasn’t particularly an expert at small talk.

“Roughly a dozen or so times, I’d say,” Sawyer responded neutrally. She didn’t know why she answered that way. She knew she’d been here exactly fourteen times now. She was on edge, a little more than she’d expected to be.

“Ah,” Mirren hummed. “You must have been the obvious choice then for leading this mission. Your experience matched with your skillset makes you overly qualified.”

Sawyer didn’t know what to say in response to what felt like a compliment, so she only shrugged. “I suppose so.”

Sawyer returned to her work, though she found herself glancing over at Mirren more often than she meant to. There was something oddly calming about the other woman’s presence, a steadiness that contrasted with the harshness of their surroundings. It was as though the storm brewing outside had no effect on her, as if she were immune to the cold and the isolation.

Sawyer was used to being the one who provided that sense of calm and stability for her team, but here in this moment, she found herself on the receiving end. It was…unexpected. And she wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it.

When she had finished her inspection, Sawyer returned to the table where Mirren worked. “Everything looks good on my end,” she said, her voice cutting through the quiet. “How about you?”

Mirren looked up, her eyes meeting Sawyer’s. “The weather is holding steady for now,” she replied before a grim look flashed across her gaze. “But…it looks as if there’s a significant drop in pressure that suggests the storm is intensifying. We need to be prepared for it to hit sooner rather than later.”

Sawyer frowned, her mind already calculating the implications. “How soon?”

Mirren hesitated, glancing down at her tablet before answering. “It’s…hard to say for certain, but I’d estimate we have a few hours, maybe three at most, before it reaches full strength.”

Sawyer nodded, her expression grim. “Shit. That doesn’t give us much time.” Her eyes briefly scanned her surroundings. This trip was only meant to be a quick check.

Mirren nodded, as well. “I think it may be best if we stay here for the night.”

Stay the night? Sawyer’s heart skipped a beat at the mere thought of that. Her and Mirren, practically two strangers, trapped in this small, cramped space through the entire night while a storm rabidly raged outside. Those strange feelings from before swiftly returned, this time in the form of a far hungrier fire instead of the earlier tiny flames.

Sawyer swallowed her thoughts and kept her gaze steady. “I expected as much,” was all she could say.

Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad or as uncomfortable as she thought it would be. She was already intrigued by Mirren from the moment they first met, and it seemed as if a large part of her wanted to like her. As well, Mirren had quickly proven herself to be reliable. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so tough after all. Sawyer began to think that staying the night here with the woman might give both of them the chance to better get to know each other. She wasn’t really the kind to warm up to others, but what else was there to do, really?

“I’ve already started gathering data on the storm’s trajectory,” Mirren continued, looking down to tap at her screen. “We should have enough information to make an informed decision by the time it arrives.”

Sawyer appreciated the pragmatism in Mirren’s approach. It mirrored her own, a focus on facts and logic rather than panic or speculation. She could work with that. “Good. Let’s get the stove going and make sure we’re stocked up on firewood. We’ll need to conserve our energy and stay warm.”