Flashback (Kendra Michaels #11)

“So you think you can do what the entire San Diego County Fire Department can’t?”

“Possibly. I’ll look things over when we get there.”

“Dammit, Lynch, you have a death wish.”

“Nonsense. I love my life too much. It’s just a matter of calculated risk.”

“Famous last words.”

“Not mine.” He smiled. “We’ll be there in a few minutes. We’ll see what the situation is when we get there.”

It took more than fifteen minutes to negotiate the curvy roads ascending Palomar Mountain, a popular spot for nature hikes with spectacular views. Finally, they spotted a cluster of police cars and fire department rigs, accompanied by almost a dozen rescue personnel standing around and doing absolutely nothing.

“This looks like our party,” Lynch said. “And I see that Metcalf has already found his way here.” He parked, and he, Kendra, and Harley climbed out of the car and walked toward the roadside. A uniformed officer tried to stop them, but Metcalf waved them through.

“Where’s the copter?” Lynch said.

“Still aiding in rescue efforts at the Potrero brush fire.” Metcalf bent over to rub the scruff of Harley’s neck. “It could be an hour or more before they get here.”

Kendra peered over the edge of the cliff and saw Williams’ Camry resting upright in the ravine hundreds of feet below. She turned back to Metcalf. “Still no sign of Todd Williams?”

“No. The fire department guys have tried to look down from every angle, but they couldn’t see inside. They even tried sending down a drone, but there’s just too much vegetation to get a good view.”

One of the cops motioned for Metcalf to join him at his squad car as he held up his radio microphone. Metcalf stepped away to join him as Lynch studied the cliffside for another long moment. He turned to Kendra. “Stay here with Metcalf and take care of Harley, okay?”

She glared at him. “Where in the hell do you think you’re going?”

“Down.”

Her eyes widened. “How? Are you wearing a parachute I don’t know about?”

“I don’t need a parachute. See all those vines growing down the hillside?”

“You do have a death wish.”

Lynch turned and walked back to his car, and Kendra and Harley followed. He opened his trunk with his remote key fob. “Trust me. Just last year I climbed the Dawn Wall at El Capitan. Now, that may have constituted a death wish.” Lynch pulled out a hardshell jacket and a pair of gloves.

Kendra looked back toward the gathered firemen. “Don’t you think you might want to run this by them first?”

“Absolutely not. If Todd Williams is alive and injured down there, there won’t be time for a negotiation.” Lynch pulled on the gloves and slid into his jacket.

He strode back to the cliff’s edge and looked down for another long moment.

Kendra stood next to him and looked again at the two-hundred-foot drop. “Please, Lynch,” she whispered. “Don’t do this.”

“It’ll be fine. Just make sure they don’t commit me to a mental facility when this is all over.”

“No promises. But just so you know, I plan to witness the commitment papers.”

“As long as you come to see me on visiting day.”

“Again, no promises.”

Lynch kissed her, then turned and threw his legs over the cliff’s edge. He gripped the vines and moved down the slope, half slipping, half dropping the first thirty feet. It was only then that the firemen and cops on the scene took notice and ran to the stretch of road above.

“Sir, get up here. Now!” the fire chief shouted. “Do you hear me?”

If Lynch heard, he didn’t acknowledge the chief or the other firefighters or cops shouting at him from above. He continued to work his way down, occasionally uprooting the vines and shrubs protruding from the ravine’s wall.