They followed Tashi closely, heeding his every instruction, as one wrong move this high in the Himalayas could lead to disaster. Surprisingly, that night they feasted on chocolate and local apple pie, washed down with fresh coffee and a good dose of free Wi-Fi.
Lucie put her evening to good use.
“All right,” she said after forty minutes. “We’re perfectly aligned. I’ve already plotted the course of the ley line but wanted to confirm now that we’re close to the site.”
Bodie listened, watching a woman further along the street from where they were staying, staggering and swaying from altitude sickness. Her guide had taken hold of her and laid her gently down and, Bodie was sure, she’d be going no further.
Feeling sorry for the woman, he turned to Lucie. “How far to Base Camp?”
“At least four days,” Lucie said. “Probably more.”
“And the line runs through there?” Cassidy asked.
“Perfectly,” Lucie said. “Right through the middle.”
*
More days followed. They traversed trails clinging to the side of mountains, and passed a monument honoring all the Sherpas who risked their lives in the Himalayas; they heard chanting monks at Tengboche Monastery, and stayed in basic teahouses with no heating. That night the temperature dipped below freezing, making Bodie leave the cold of his sleeping bag to restart the hearth fire and light the candles. Sipping rum helped too.
The next day dawned with fresh snow and views of Everest. Later, they spotted incredible wooly Yaks, fought hard for breath, and walked narrow ledges without worrying about the abyssal drops below.
The clear blue sky and mountainous panorama made Bodie feel small, insignificant, but also proud. The weather varied greatly from minute to minute, the slopes were littered with boulders but, finally, and with much toil, they arrived.
Bodie couldn’t resist lining them all up in front of the boulder with its steel Everest Base Camp sign covered in multicoloured garlands, letters, scarves and prayer flags, standing on thick ice and rock, to take a quick couple of photographs for posterity.
After that, Lucie announced it was time to get to work.
CHAPTER FORTY
Their Sherpa directed them to a patch of ground where they could pitch tents. Bodie and Cassidy made a show of starting and told Tashi to take a few hours off. The camp wasn’t too busy, nothing like it would be in high season, but there were still a good number of tents and people milling about.
By early afternoon, Lucie had walked back and forth over the ley line’s trajectory several times. She’d even placed red flags at either end as it cut through Base Camp. Quite randomly, and no doubt unconsciously, more climbers had chosen to pitch their tents along that path than any other.
Bodie joined her, rubbing his gloved hands to keep them warm. “What do you have?”
Lucie looked around. “It’s weird, this landscape. Feels like I’m on the moon or something.”
Bodie took in the yellow tents dotted between the jagged rocks, wide ice flows and shaley black mountain slopes. “It is bizarre,” he said. “But it’s all bloody bedrock as far as the eye can see. Where are we digging, Luce?”
“This way.”
The base camp was emptying out somewhat, trekkers heading toward the incredible Khumbu ice fall of the higher Everest slopes, but they still had to wait for walkers to pass them by.
Lucie led them toward a low, wide hut with the medical green cross symbol stuck to its outside before turning sharp right and pointing at one of her flags.
“That’s the furthest point. The quietest, I mean,” she emphasized. “Come on.”
Guiding them as a schoolteacher leads a day trip, she picked her way through the rocks, skirting snow and ice, until she reached her flag. Then she hefted her pack to the ground and crouched down.
“A long way to come for a scoop of rock,” Yasmine said. “But worth it.”
Staring up at the towering white mountains, Bodie heard them first. Yasmine stiffened and then Cassidy lifted her head, listening.
“Is that what I think it is?” the American asked quietly.
“Just a tour helicopter,” Lucie said. “We tried to rent one, remember? They were chock full for weeks.”
Bodie hoped she was right.
The first helicopter cresting a nearby hill definitely wasn’t a tour helicopter, and neither were the two that followed it. They were white and black, painted to blend in with the scenery, and dropped toward the ground far too fast.
“We can’t let them land.” Bodie dropped his pack to the ground and reached inside for his gun.
“We can’t be certain it’s the Hoods,” Jemma said. “You can’t shoot first.”
Bodie, Yasmine and Cassidy were already arming themselves. Lucie too knelt down on a rock and rummaged for her gun. Jemma stared at the approaching aircraft.
“Pretend,” Bodie said. “Aim something at them and see if they retaliate.”
“Are you kid—”
Jemma’s words were interrupted as a figure leaned out of the first chopper. It was about fifty feet high and descending to their right, aiming for the middle of Base Camp. The figure leaning out stared at them.
“It’s Nimrod,” Bodie said. “And, shit, does he look pissed.”
The Hood who’d escaped at Karachi, who’d lost his entire team in the fight against them, was reaching for something. Bodie could guess what it was. The angle of the helicopter, drifting away, didn’t help the man, but Bodie could see him shout, giving orders.
More heads appeared at windows, and Bodie could see the presence of Hoods. The other men were mercenaries, he assumed.
All three helicopters plummeted toward the ground.
Lucie wrenched out a small drill, already charged, and scrabbled about on the ground, clearing rock and debris away.
“Do we have time?” Jemma asked.
“Protect
