them out here - " He made as if to brush past Pitt, but he was stopped

dead by an iron grip on his arm.  He stared uncomprehending into a pair

of unblinking eyes.

"Your friends will have to wait," Pitt said firmly.  "any survivors on

the downed aircraft must come first.  How far to your camp?"

"A kilometer to the south," Hoskins answered compliantly.

"The  snowmobile  is  still  operable.  You  and your partner rehitch

the sled and carry them back to your camp.  Go easy in case they have

any internal injuries.  You have a radio?"

"Yes.  "

"Keep it set on frequency thirty-two and stand by," said Pitt.  "If the

plane was a commercial jetliner loaded with passengers, we'll have a

real mess on our hands."

"We'll stand by," Graham assured him.

Pitt leaned over Lily and squeezed her hand.  "Don't forget our date,"

he said.

Then he yanked the parka hood over his head, turned and jogged back to

the helicopter.

Rubin felt a great weight smothering him from all sides as if some

relentless force was driving him backward.  The seat belt and harness

pressed cruelly into his gut and shoulders.  He opened his eyes and saw

only vague and shadowy images.  As he waited for his vision to clear he

tried to move his hands and arms, but they seemed locked in place.

Then his eyes gradually focused and he saw why.

An avalanche of snow and ice had forged through the shattered

windshield, entrapping his body up to the chest.  He made a desperate

attempt to free himself.  After a few minutes of struggling, he gave up.

The unyielding pressure held him like a straitjacket.  There was no way

he could escape the cockpit without help.

The shock slowly began to fade and he gritted his teeth from the pain

that erupted from his broken legs.  Rubin thought it strange that his

feet felt as though they were immersed in water.  He rationalized that

it was his own blood.

Rubin was wrong.  The plane had settled through the ice in water nearly

three meters deep and it had flooded the cabin floor up to the seats.

Only then did he remember Ybarra.  He turned his head to his right and

squinted through the darkness.  The starboard side of the aircraft's bow

had been crushed inward almost to the engineer's panel.  All he could

see of the Mexican delegate was a rigid, upraised arm protruding from

the snow and telescoped wreckage.

Rubin turned away, sick in the sudden realization that the little man

who had sat at his side throughout the terrible ordeal was dead, every

bone crushed.  Rubin also realized he had only a short time to live

before he froze to death.

He began to cry.

"She should be coming up!" Giordino shouted over the engine and rotor

noise.

Pitt nodded and stared down at the gouge that cut across the merciless

ice, its sides littered with bits and pieces of jagged debris.  He saw