CHAPTER NINETEEN
QUINCY
“Is that the clearing?” I asked, pointing to what had once been an open area.
One of the Search and Rescue guys, Marquette, he’d said his name was, sat second seat beside me. He wore sunglasses and had a jaw so sharp and square it could probably cut glass. He wasn’t smiling.
“Used to be,” he replied. Baby pine and aspen trees dotted the area. It had definitely been an alpine field a few years ago, but nature was taking over and filling it in. I couldn’t set the helicopter down on top of five-foot-tall trees and shrubs, and it was too much of a jump for them if I hovered.
“f**k, this isn’t going to plan. Although calls like this rarely do.” That was Anderson from the back.
“Can you circle wider to see if there’s a different place you feel you can put her down?”
