Harry refused to let forty-knot gusts slow his pace. Pushing up the slippery incline, Harry and Sharidon reached the base of the ridge, then spent the better part of an hour searching for a way to the top of the granite cliffs.

When they located a promising ravine, Sharidon scampered ahead, clamoring up the boulders like a mountain goat. Harry lagged behind due to the jet suit’s weight in his pack.

Sharidon barely reached the top before the whine of a small aircraft, flying low over the river, made Harry pause partway up a particularly slippery boulder. He narrowed his eyes on the aircraft.

A gyrocopter? In this wind?

Sharidon stood forty feet above him on the ridge’s precipice, fully exposed to the elements. “What do you make of that, Benson?” he hollered.

Readjusting his position, Harry lifted his binoculars and adjusted the lenses. “They’re either crazy or part of Gilmont’s regime.”

The man in the front seat appeared misshapen. Harry enlarged his lens to get a clearer view. “The man in front’s got a shoulder launcher,” Harry shouted. “They’ve got to be part of Gilmont’s crew.”

The copter circled an area by the river. Had they spotted Elise?

Harry swung his field glasses and combed the forest beneath the gyrocopter. A flash of light. The man seated in front had his own pair of binoculars zeroed on them.

The copter swung about and started in their direction.

“Get off that ridge!” Harry yelled.

Sharidon swore and dashed along the rim. Stones rattled and pinged off boulders in his wake.

Harry pivoted, then jumped boulder to boulder to reach the cover the trees provided. The gyrocopter buzzed directly over them, swung about, and followed the ridge, obviously looking for a place to land.

Leaping past Harry, Sharidon slid partway across a shallow ledge, then jumped. Harry followed. Partway down, Sharidon lost Harry’s rifle between two enormous granite stacks. Bringing up the rear, Harry paused to retrieve it.

“Leave it, Benson.”

The Irish agent, with his lighter pack, darted ahead. He hit a patch of mud and skidded across its slippery surface, his feet shooting out from under him. Sharidon yelled and tumbled three meters before Harry caught up with him and stopped his fall.

He reached down and hauled Sharidon to his feet.

Sharidon grunted and favored his leg. “I can’t put pressure on it.”

“Let’s get you into the trees.” Harry slipped his arm around Sharidon’s shoulder and supported him the dozen meters into the forest.

Once they obtained cover from the ridge, Sharidon sat on a log and lifted his trouser to assess the damage. Swelling and discoloration had already set in.

Harry inhaled sharply. “It looks broken.”

“It snapped when I went down. Leave me in that thicket.” Sharidon nodded toward a group of young saplings.

“Not an option. You’re too close to the ridge; Gilmont will find you.”