Vivian Arend - High Risk

Now, years later, Banff had become a safe place where when things got tough, there was someone who cared unconditionally. Because he was the first to admit there were times he was less than easy to get along with.

David nabbed a magazine off the side table and shook it at him. “This conversation isn’t about my school, or my students. If your squad blew it, deal with it. They need a bit of boot camp. They’re spoiled. Being named ‘the best of the best’ has gone to their heads. Plus, they’re spending more time in the bar enjoying people fawning over them than they are training—it adds up, bro. Mistakes were bound to happen.”

Excuses weren’t acceptable. Marcus shook his head. “Not on my watch. That’s not what getting selected to work for Lifeline is about. I expect them to be on all the time, David.”

“I know, I know. When you organized your squad, you said you were going to keep it tight and make it special. Three years—God, I can’t believe it’s been such a short time. You’ve done amazing things with them, but maybe you need to regroup.”

Marcus dragged his hand through his hair and consciously released a slow breath. Regrouping was what he was doing, but pouring a tall glass of something strong and forgetting everything for a while was tempting.

Three years didn’t seem like long enough to have changed his entire direction in life. Globe-trotting and working undercover—he hadn’t expected the secretive recovery operations he’d been involved with to last forever, but he’d never thought his career would vanish with one bad decision.

On someone else’s part.

He glanced involuntarily at the stump of his left arm. On a side table just beyond his line of sight lay his modified prosthetic, the one he wore only when absolutely necessary. Physically he’d healed and moved on. Mentally—there were still days when cursing wasn’t enough.

Still, returning to Banff after he’d been discharged from the hospital had been a no-brainer. Setting up a private rescue company had always been the fallback plan for when he decided to get out of working for others. He’d recruited the best, trained them hard, and now they were the go-to squad called in for high-risk and impossible rescues.

The sight of one of that elite team Z-clipping during a routine training exercise and potentially killing more than the rescue attempt flashed into his brain again, and he growled in frustration. “If this is what becoming famous does, I’m keeping my squad in the dark from here on. I should have told that reporter to take his damn camera and shove it up his ass.”

“Don’t blame Nathan for writing the article. Blame Sports Illustrated for publishing it and making the theme for the entire magazine a salute to your ‘death-defying gods and goddesses of the wilderness.’”

“Stow it. We’ve established what caused the problem. My team has gotten fat and lazy sitting on their laurels.”

“So, increase their regular training. We’re between skiing and hiking season. With the school on semester break until June first, you’re welcome to access any of the equipment. Perfect time for some intense workouts to get their act together.” David sneered. “Maybe you should consider joining them instead of teaching from the sidelines.”

Bastard. David was the only one brave enough to taunt him. “You implying I’m out of shape?”

“If the tire fits—”

Marcus threw a pen across the room, his brother deflecting it easily. “I’ve been coordinating, not flying rescues. Plus dealing with office work. I’m still in shape—I’m not too weak to beat your ass.”

“Fine, you’re in decent physical shape, but you’re nowhere near as technically qualified as before.” David lifted his chin in challenge. “And don’t give me the excuse you only have one arm, because you told me from day one you’d never let that hold you back.”

“Goddammit, you are a son of a bitch sometimes, aren’t you?”

His brother grinned. “I know very well that you were the inspiration behind a lot of those kids wanting to sign on with Lifeline. If the legend can let himself go soft . . . Think about it.”

He had been. Marcus pulled out a file folder and tossed it across his desk. “Fine. You win. ASAP the team is back in basic training.”

It only took a few minutes for David to flip through the pages, swearing softly. He dropped the file to the floor, one page clutched in his hand. “You tricky bastard, you already had a plan organized even while you were bitching at me. When did you get this in place?”

Pulling a fast one on his brother felt damn good. “Your school secretary has been amazing. I’m thinking of stealing her away.”

“You can’t afford her.” The single page David had pulled was shaken in his direction. “You don’t have anyone listed for rope training.”

Marcus shook his head. “Your lead instructor said he’s got plans for the semester break. You have any other ideas?”

A grin broke across David’s face so quickly it was frightening. “It’s funny you ask. I just brought in an expert to plan some specialized classes. She’s going to join the school next semester as a general instructor and overseer.”

“She?”

“Rebecca James.”

His brother said her name so casually. As if she weren’t the one woman everyone in the mountain community knew. David must have been itching to share his good fortune in nabbing her for a job.

A shot of adrenaline flared through Marcus’s body in direct opposition to what David was probably expecting. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.

Becki James.

He determinedly copied David’s nonchalance. “She’s going into teaching?”

David nodded slowly. “Her contract with the U.S. Parks Department in Yellowstone was up anyway, and she said she wanted to take a little time off, so I issued an invitation.”

For one brief second a kind of panic hit as Marcus wondered if this was a setup, if his brother had arranged this to jerk him out of his gloom. The sensation faded as rapidly as it arrived. As far as he knew, the long-ago sexual escapade between him and Becki was still a complete secret. The chances that David would remember he’d visited the school while she was a student were slim. If he was going to keep it that way, he needed his alarm to remain hidden.

“You have a funny idea of time off if you asked her to come teach. Wasn’t it you who suggested I go somewhere like a deserted island for my next holiday so I didn’t feel the need to keep rescuing people?”

“Face it, bro, you’re just a big old Saint Bernard.”

Right. “Tell that to the team who fucked up their rope climb yesterday. I doubt they were calling me a Saint Bernard last night. Pit bull, asshole, scary son of a bitch—those were more likely the names crossing their lips.”

David grinned. “Gee, I wonder why. . . .”

Marcus stopped for a moment and considered. He might have an ulterior motive in asking the question, but it was a legitimate one. “Is Rebecca any good as a teacher? I mean, we got the media reports last September, and that’s it. She may have been involved in a high-profile rescue, but fieldwork isn’t teaching. You know that.”

“One of the best. She trained here, you know.”

“Really? Why didn’t you mention that sooner?” This conversation was going nowhere fast. David seemed pleased to have scored such a high-ranked instructor.

Marcus changed mental tracks. Would having her around be an issue? So what if he and Becki had a slight sexual history?

Although calling it slight turned it into the biggest bullshit of the day yet.

“She’s a BSR grad, and she’s in town?”

David nodded. “Staying in the school dorms. I offered her a hotel room until the teachers’ apartments are done being renovated, but she said she was happy to use a student space while the kids are on break for the next three weeks. Why don’t you go see her? Take her out for lunch.”