Day 1

Mountain Bear Rode raced to the clinic, his footsteps thundering in the hallway, dodging people who turned to stare. Already a crazy buzz filled the air, and that was before anybody on base had heard about Amelia's arrival. Knowing that Chef Elijah was being interrogated and was banned from the kitchen was enough to set the entire place on edge. The rumors were rampant, and everyone was divided on the subject. Mountain couldn't imagine what was going through their minds at this point. Hell, he was in the same boat himself and couldn't clarify the thoughts in his own head.

It felt so wrong to think that Elijah was involved in any way with any of the madness that had plagued this base and this particular survival session, especially any intentionally drugging of Teegan, Mountain's brother. One theory was that both brothers had been drugged, via their dinner plates set aside for them that night. However, there must have been a bigger dose for Mountain, but Teegan got it instead, explaining his dangerous reaction thereafter.

Now it seemed more nefarious.

This drugging of Teegan could not be passed off as somebody else's dirty deed. With everybody eating Chef's food over these last twelve weeks and counting, a lot of questions arose regarding the recent illnesses that had spread through the place—not to mention whispers of poison. Mountain couldn't imagine that their beloved Chef would have done that. Yet somebody had obviously done something, and they needed answers fast.

But fast didn't mean accepting answers that weren't correct. Mountain and both investigation teams, covert and overt, must have the facts in order to truly get to the bottom of all this. He couldn't imagine how the CO felt right now either. That had to be one of the worst things to deal with, considering the longstanding close relationship between the colonel and Chef. Mountain himself had dealt with enough in-house betrayals to know how rough that was.

When he reached the clinic, the door was closed. He gave a perfunctory knock and stuck his head inside, grateful it wasn't locked. Sydney looked over at him and glared, but he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "How is she?" He tried to keep his voice low but failed, as it came out more as a harsh roar.

Sydney winced, then told him to keep his voice down and returned to her patient.

Mountain saw the blood dripping from the hospital bed to the floor. He stared at Sydney and asked again, "Oh my God, how is she?" Again his attempt to keep his voice calm and quiet went out the window, as the question came off as a heavy growl.

Sydney glared at him. "Stop interrupting me," she stated in a tone that matched his mood.

With that, he had to shut up, as Sydney worked feverishly on the poor woman. Mountain walked closer and pulled the blanket out of the way and saw a fresh bullet wound oozing, the source of all the blood.

He sucked in his breath, glaring down at the evidence in front of him. Shaking his head, he muttered, "Good Christ, she was shot? What the hell?"

"Yeah, that would be my take, and this isn't the only one." She indicated the second bullet wound, and he looked at her in shock.

"Did she say anything?" he asked, speaking urgently.

"Yes, that she tried hard to not come here, but I was her only chance of survival now."

He stared down at Amelia. "Why didn't she come in before? Did she say anything at all that would tell us why?"

"I don't know if it means anything, after her first few words. She was in shock, and, by the looks of it, she's got old wounds that she's dealing with as well. I haven't had a chance to get to those yet because I'm too busy trying to stop the bleeding in the two fresh wounds," she shared, cleaning out one now.

As more blood welled up, she started cursing, and he winced. Sydney was overwhelmed, and, no matter how good of a doctor she was, she didn't have all the resources she needed.

"Put me to use," he declared.

"I need a nurse in here to help," she replied, still working feverishly.

"No time for that, and I've got an awful lot of field dressing experience." She gave him a sharp look, and he gave her a flat one back. "Come on. Tell me what you need."

And, with that, she barked orders that he struggled to keep up with, but, about twenty minutes later, she gave him a nod, as if acknowledging his help. "We might have beaten it." She watched anxiously, as she released the tourniquet slowly, waiting to see if the blood would start pouring again, but instead it appeared to ease back.

She sucked in her breath in relief. "A slight reprieve." She quickly pulled back the covers and checked the rest of Amelia's body, looking for more wounds. He waited, his gaze equally discerning, as they both sorted through the wounds. When he saw torn flesh and the puckering of a closing wound high up on her shoulder, he sucked in his breath. "That's another bullet hole."

"It is," she agreed, "but it's also weeks old."

"Jesus," he muttered, the shocks continuing to reverberate through his system, as he realized that not only had Amelia been shot but she'd been recently shot at two different times. The first time had been earlier, and she had done amazingly well at tending to herself, cleaning and stitching up her wound. Still, the second shooting had dropped Amelia to the point that she needed someone else to give her a hand. He wondered what it would have taken for her to come here for aid, and now he knew.

"The only reason she wouldn't have come," Sydney guessed, looking at her patient intently, "is that Amelia had to be suspicious of the person who shot her the first time and the possibility that it's someone from here."

"That's a huge leap," Mountain noted.

She glared at him. "I'm in the business of huge leaps."

He winced at that because, in some ways, so was he. Sometimes those leaps were all he had in order to make the next set of questions rise to the surface to be answered, and those answers often took him right back around the same circle.

"I can't imagine what she went through," he murmured, with a tic in his jaw revealing how close he was to losing control of his temper. "She was out sledding, which is exhausting, especially with that shoulder still healing from an earlier bullet wound."

"These two more recent wounds are worse. However, one appears to be much more superficial. The other one she took through her side. I can't find any damage on the inside," she shared, and he looked at her skeptically. "Yeah, I've already checked. I don't want to stitch her up though, not until the bleeding has fully stopped." Sydney sagged back a step, looked down at her bloody hands and the pools of blood on the floor. "That poor woman."

Mountain checked the bruises on Amelia's shoulders and her legs. Her body was heavily and quite decently muscled, yet looked to have suffered for the last while. She was lean—almost too lean. "Is there anything else she needs from us right now?" he asked.

"She needs blood, but that's not happening here. She's cold, and we need to get her covered back up soon," Sydney replied, checking Amelia's vitals. "I staunched the bleeding, so now I can stitch her up. Then we'll bandage her and get her as warmed up as we can. I can do the bandage part, so you go see if you can roust up something warm for her."

"Heated blankets?"

"Sure, although, with Elijah out of commission and not in the kitchen, you'll have to check in with Avalon and Chrissy."

"I'll sort it out." Mountain walked to the sink, quickly washed his hands, and then headed to the kitchen. As he got there, he found the two women busily working.

Avalon winced at him. "Don't know where you've been," she admitted, squinting her eyes and checking him over, but then her face relaxed. "You're still standing, so I presume you won."

He glanced down and noted he hadn't gotten all the blood washed off his arms. He nodded. "I need a heated blanket, so if you have any way to make that happen, let's do it as quickly as you can, please."

"Yeah." She pointed to the heaters on the side. "We have blankets set aside just for Sydney." She didn't say anything more, just quickly popped a blanket in one machine and pushed the button.

In a few minutes, Mountain stepped out of the kitchen, a warm blanket tucked up close, and he raced back to the medical clinic. As he got in there, Sydney was putting the final bandage on.

"Bandages are a good sign," he said, as he carefully covered their patient with the still-warm blanket.

"Yeah, she's holding her own at the moment, and I'll keep her knocked out for now, so she doesn't destroy my handiwork by moving too much." He frowned at that, but Sydney shook her head. "I understand how you feel. It would be nice if we didn't have to do that, but I can't have her opening any of the stitches. She'll hemorrhage, and we'll lose her," she stated flatly.

That was a stark reality. When it came to medical experience, Sydney had the final say.

"Fine, but I need to know if she says anything."

"If she says anything right now, it won't be coherent, and you can't go with it."

"I don't care if it's coherent or not," he argued. "We need answers, and she's got the bulk of them."

"Maybe so," Sydney admitted, "but Amelia's also the most injured witness you have had so far and will be largely incoherent for quite a while. So I'll keep her drugged for now, at least until I'm satisfied that I can get her out of this without any problems. I need her airlifted out pronto, but the weather out there is shit."

He nodded. "I guess in that case, I'm staying here then."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I won't take a chance of her saying something and me missing it, not to mention a repeat performance to harm her. Remember what happened to Carl."

"Fine," she agreed. "As long as I don't need that other bed, you can have it." She pointed to the second hospital bed off to the side.

He gave her a small smile. "How many times has this bed been used as surveillance during this training session?"

"Too many," she replied, "as in, seriously too many times. Honest to God, I've lost count."

He gave a half laugh. "The good news is that, with her arrival and with your magical hands," he noted, with a smile in her direction, "Amelia should pull through."

"I really hope so," Sydney said. "You need to inform the colonel, and we should get word out to her family." Mountain frowned at that, and she watched the expression on his face change. "Obviously you don't agree with that idea, and you need to tell me why."

"Somebody tried to kill her, not once but twice—that we know of. Since I have no idea who that might have been, I would just as soon keep it quiet for now. Plus, nobody seems to think she's missing," he pointed out. "As a matter of fact, they all seem to think that she's very capable out there."

"I agree," Sydney replied. "And I think, in this case, if it weren't for human interference, she is very capable, but, the fact of the matter is, somebody shot her."

"Exactly. So, I would prefer to keep her presence here as secret as possible, for as long as we can, at least until she can get back on her feet anyway."

She gave him a sideways look. "Her family?"

He frowned. "I may have to go to the village."

"How can you go to the village and keep an eye on her?" she pointed out, with a bright smile.

He shook his head. "At the moment I have no clue. First things first. I'll stay close and confirm that she makes it through the night."

"Then we'll both be here," she declared, with a warning glance at him, "because I have no intention of leaving her, not until she's a bit more stable." And that was the last she had to say on it.

He pulled up a chair and texted Magnus. When a knock came on the door a few minutes later, Sydney looked over at him, and he shrugged. "That'll be Magnus."

She walked to the door and let Magnus in.

"Nobody else comes in or out," Mountain ordered.

"Not even a nurse?" Magnus asked.

"Nobody. Just Sydney, me, and now you."

Magnus studied him, then nodded and walked over for a closer look at the woman on the bed. "What do we know?"

Mountain let Sydney give Magnus a rundown of Amelia's physical ailments, his expressions mirroring Mountain's when he had heard about the recent double gunshot wounds. "Jesus," Magnus muttered. "No wonder she didn't want to come in. She was already injured and probably figured somebody here shot her—or maybe she knew it for sure."

Fuming, Mountain tried to conceal his emotions, but the tic in his jaw gave it away. He did keep his tone under control, as he added, "I wonder if she was hoping that, by now, whoever would look after her medical care would note the old wounds and the new, recognizing the need to keep her safe. For her, coming here had to be a giant leap in faith and trust."

"You can count on that," Sydney stated. "However, keeping her safe in this hellhole right now may be a whole different story."

"And yet you would think, with the latest development, we should be free and clear," Magnus noted, his gaze going from one to the other.

She shrugged. "I'm not convinced it was Elijah," she shared. "So, no, I certainly don't feel that sense of relief."

Magnus looked over at Mountain. "What about you?"

"Something's off here," he replied bluntly. "I don't know what, and, until I get answers, I'm not sure how this will play out. Elijah is a wild card, but I don't believe for a second that he could shoot someone. Plus, who shot at you and the sled dogs? I don't see Elijah doing that either. Has he confessed? No. Has he explained anything? No. The whole thing obviously has the colonel pretty upset, but I'm not certain of anything at this point in time."

"So, you don't believe this nightmare is over with?" Magnus asked.

"I'm sure it isn't. We don't have a motive yet either," Mountain said. "Until we get that, I'm not sure I can say either way."

Magnus eyed him carefully, then Sydney. "Are you guys not telling me something?"

"No. We don't know anything to not tell you yet," Mountain pointed out, and his words had that same flinty tone he took on when he needed to end an argument. "The bottom line is, I don't want to leave Amelia alone in case she says something tonight, awake or asleep. Although Sydney doesn't seem to think that Amelia will say anything that's worth noting. Still, I don't want to take the chance of missing something." He stared at Magnus. "I can't afford to."

Magnus nodded at that. "Makes sense to me, so I presume you're staying here on watch."

"I am, at least for now, which means you need to keep an eye on the rest of the base."

"If we keep our chef under guard, that should help. We're also trying to keep the news and everybody's interpretation of the news about Elijah's supposed involvement low-key, as long as that is worth doing."

"Which won't work," Sydney noted. "People here already know that he's been picked up and is being held by the investigative team in our makeshift jail, otherwise known as the storage room. The base doesn't know why, and they don't know what he's done, but, considering all the shit going on around this place, it could get ugly."

"Ugly how?" Mountain asked her. "What is it? Are you picking up something that we aren't?"

"Outside of the fact that everybody is upset, I haven't heard a whole lot," Sydney replied, taking a deep breath. "However, if you think about it, it won't take them long to realize what's happened, and, when they do, I suspect you'll have people reacting to Elijah in a pretty ugly way. It's not as if they haven't noticed his absence from the kitchen already. Avalon and Chrissy are handling the food, but Elijah has been the one constant in this place, since the very beginning."

"We've got a guard on him, just in case," Magnus shared.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but I don't think one guard is enough," she argued bluntly. He looked at her in surprise, and she shrugged. "Some pretty upset people are out there, not to mention the fact that we have thirty or so highly trained people from almost a dozen countries cooped up in this place."

"Right. I'll be on guard duty from time to time then, I guess," Magnus responded, as he turned back to Mountain.

Mountain studied him intently, then shook his head. "Set up three teams of three. I don't think one at a time will be enough."

"Got it. First let's see if we can make it through tonight." He looked down at the sleeping woman and asked no one in particular, "Will she wake up anytime soon?"

"No," Sydney declared, her tone flat. "I made sure of that. I can't take a chance of her injuring herself, fighting me off or fighting whatever nightmare she has when she wakes up. I just now got the bleeding under control, but any struggle from her will destroy all my handiwork. We can't risk it right now. She's lost an awful lot of blood. I can't do a transfusion here, so keeping her under, while her body works to recover, is the best I can do."

"Understood," Magnus said, as he looked back at Mountain. "While I'm here, do you want to take off and grab your laptop or anything else you might need? I presume you won't let me relieve you during the night."

"No, I won't, and you'll have plenty to do anyway, as you secure the base. And, yes, I'll go grab my laptop and a jacket and maybe pick up some coffee and food."

"I'm not sure about the food status," Magnus noted.

"Food's coming," Mountain said. "I went down there and grabbed a hot blanket a while ago, and the two women were hard at work on our meals." With that, he got up, walked over to stare at the sleeping woman and shook his head. "This behavior is the kind we would expect from one of us, if we were in enemy territory, anticipating a poor reception. It's not something we expect out of a neighboring scientist and certainly not somebody staying out in these Arctic conditions," he muttered, a deep crease between his eyebrows. "Getting shot was an obvious life-or-death issue," he noted. "Yet she managed to deal with the first gunshot incident quite efficiently, I would say. However, this most recent attack, the second attempt, that's the one that did her in. God damn it, I want to find the bastard who did that." He glared at Magnus. "Give me five minutes." And, with that, he quickly disappeared.

*

Amelia shifted, painslammed into her, gasping, even more pain slammed right back.

"Take it easy," a woman said from her side in a gentle tone.

Amelia moaned, not able to orient herself. She started to panic.

The same woman spoke again. "I'm checking that the bleeding has stopped," she explained, "and then I'll give you something for the pain."

Sure enough, the pain eased again, as Amelia drifted in and out of consciousness. She slept several more times, only to wake to the same pain again, then to immediately crash back down. When she woke yet once more, she heard a different voice. A male—strong, deep, and dark. She couldn't place that voice either and felt herself fighting it, afraid. His words told her that she was safe and that she was getting the medical help she needed, but it didn't ease her fears.

She didn't remember needing medical help. She didn't remember anything, and that part bothered her. She shifted and once again cried out with pain. Warm hands reached out with a wet washcloth and gently wiped her face and her neck, before a woman whispered, "Go back to sleep." Amelia immediately dropped back under, happy to get away from a world so seemingly unpleasant. The additional whispered words came from a man. "You are safe now. I'll make sure of it." His words were so faint that she thought she had imagined them.

When she surfaced again, she had no idea of time or space; her world had completely changed. She didn't know where anything was or who anyone was. She raised her eyelids and stared straight ahead. The light was dim, and she was on something soft, like a bed, and sheets covered her. The blankets were warm too, so, wherever she was, she was obviously being cared for, and that was both good and bad. She didn't know why, but a feeling of doom underlaid all this comfort.

She stared around the room in confusion. The lights were low, so much so that she could see but not enough. Her mind was clear though, and, for that, she was grateful. When a quiet voice beside her spoke, she shifted and then gasped in pain. Immediately a hand reached out and squeezed hers, a hand that felt both familiar and foreign. She looked down at it, trying to concentrate and to recognize who this might be. When a huge male figure loomed large above her, she gasped and shrank back.

"It's all right," he said.

It was the same soothing voice she'd heard many times throughout the night.

"My name is Mountain. I'm not here to hurt you," he explained. "I'm here to protect you."

She blinked at him several times. What kind of a name was that? Who was this person? And what the hell did she need protecting from? Nothing made any sense. She closed her eyes and willed it all away. Much later she heard the same voice call out to her.

"Easy now, just wake up. Take it easy. You're okay."

She shifted and winced in pain.

"Yeah, that side will hurt you," he confirmed, a compassionate note in his voice.

She turned her head to find him staring down at her. "Where am I?" She spoke in a whisper.

"You're in the military training base," he replied.

Her eyes widened in shock, even as she tried to process what that meant.

He added, "You're safe, and we're keeping an eye on you. You haven't been left alone for a moment."

She struggled with that too because none of it made any sense.

"And, in case you don't remember," he shared in that same calm, patient, and soothing tone, completely at odds with the size of the man in front of her, "you came here after being shot—for a second time, I might add—with two bullets hitting you most recently."

She blinked at him, not comprehending anything.

He nodded and repeated, "Just know that we're looking after you, and you're safe."

"Yet obviously I wasn't," she murmured.

"Obviously not," he agreed, with a nod. "I'm really hoping you can talk to me, although I know our good doc will shut me down the moment she finds out you're awake."

Amelia stared at him. "I'm not at all sure I'm very awake. I'm not sure I'm awake at all," she shared, as she shifted carefully, realizing that every movement was agonizing.

"I understand that too," he told her calmly. "Remember. You've been shot very recently in the side, and the older wound is up on your shoulder. So, no matter which way or how you move, it'll hurt."

"Great," she muttered, and then her eyes opened wide. "My dogs."

He looked at her in surprise. "Did you bring them here?"

She blinked several times and then whispered, in a near panic, "I don't remember."

"I'll check," he said, standing up now. "Don't you worry. If your dogs are here, we'll find them. We've got somebody here to look after the sled dogs."

"Joe," she whispered immediately.

He frowned at her intently. "Do you know Joe?"

She gave somewhat of a nod. "I think he has them."

"I'll check," Mountain repeated. "Now don't you worry. Just relax and go back to sleep." He sat back down, and she even heard the clicks on his phone, as he texted someone.

"Tell me if he has them," she demanded, but her eyelids were still closed, knowing that any movement would hurt. Still, she couldn't rest until she knew.

When his phone buzzed, he sighed in relief, and then told her in a pleasant tone, "Joe has them. They're doing fine, chilling with his pack."

She gave him a twisted smile. "Good."

With that, she immediately fell back asleep again.