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He keyed up his microphone “All steady, Slow Hand”

“Good Now do you wanna stop horsing around, pal?” Franco razzed, sarcastic as ever “I’d like to get back before sundown My toes are cold”

Wade let a laugh loosen the tension kinking up his gut “Sorry I inconvenienced you by alain I’ll even spring for a pedicure, if you’re worried about your delicate feet chafing from frostbite”

“Appreciate that” Franco’s labored breath and hoarse chuckle filled the headset

“Hey, Franco? Thanks for saving my ass”

“Roger that, Brick You’ve done the same for me”

And he had Not that they kept score Wade recognized the chitchat for what it really was—Franco checking tofrom altitude sickness due to their fifteen thousand foot perch They worked overti beast could still strike even theThey’d already lost one of their teah altitude cerebral edema

He shook his head to clear it Dae a mere twenty feet up Felt like a mile He slammed an ice ax in with his left hand, pulled, hauled, strained, then slapped the right one in a few inches higher Craained traction on the sleek side of the narrow ravine as he inched his way upward

Slow Steady Patient Mountain rescue couldn’t be rushed At least April gave theht hours Not that he could seewhiteout conditions Below, his cli partner was a barely discernible blur

Hand over hand Spike Haul Spike Haul He clipped his safety rope into a spike they had anchored in the rock on the way down Scaled one step at a ti cold

The ever-present risk of avalanche

His ar heavier Re up an unconscious female cli

His job as a pararescue Land, sea, or mountain, military missions or civilian rescue With his brothers in arms, he walked, talked, and breathed their motto, “That Others May Live”

That people like his ht live

Muscles burning, he focused upward into the growl of the stor military helicopter A few more feet and he could hook the litter to the MH-60 Rotors chop, chop, chopped through the sheets of snow like a blender