length thick brown hair and hazel eyes. Sam Connors, her polar opposite, had short, dirty blond hair, fair skin, and a prominent nose. Both enjoyed hiking and rock climbing and stayed in excellent physical condition.
Initially Regan wasn’t sure they’d get to hike to the summit since the forecast called for rain, but the couple geared up anyway and left the Höllental parking area at 5:00 a.m.—right on schedule. Regan was intent on sticking to a schedule. Something she valued in her profession as an accountant that spilled over into her personal life.
The first part of the hike through the Höllental Gorge was along an easy footpath to the base of Höllental Klamm. The early morning sky was still waking, so headlamps helped them navigate through the dark, narrow gorge. A light drizzle coated the rock and droplets spit down on her as she walked.
Connors was a fair weather hiker and wanted to turn back but Regan insisted they push forward or they would regret it when the weather broke.
As she predicted, by the time she reached the top of the gorge, the sky had cleared and Regan could see their destination in the far distance—the cross at the Zugspitze summit. Regan and Connors passed the hikers’ hut at Höllentalanger without stopping. Many hikers wanted to get an early jump on the mountain and hiked to the hut the night before in order to shave a couple of hours and 600 meters vertical climb off their hiking day. The warning sign next to the hut said the Randkluft, the crevasse that formed between the ice of the glacier and the sun-warmed rock cliff, was very difficult and dangerous.
Regan hated that Connors was a wary climber and not the risk taker she was. But Connors was the cautious type, always gathering information before making a decision. At work and at play. Regan, on the other hand, jumped in headfirst and lived for the thrill. Risk taking and danger was what it was all about. Which made Connors the perfect compliment. Sam Connors kept her grounded. It seemed neither of their personalities matched their respective occupations—a conservative day-trader and a thrill-seeking accountant.
Connors caught up to Regan and sat down on the rock next to her. “I’m going to rest for a few minutes and psych myself up a bit.”
Regan cinched her harness, picked up her helmet, and stood. “Just remember, as long as your harness is fastened to the cable, you can’t fall.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Connors slipped a leg into the harness. “It’s just having nothing under me on the rock face except those small iron pegs bothers me. And you know I don’t like heights.”
Regan let out a short laugh and looked into Sam's blue eyes. “You're such a wimp.”
----
W hite House Situation Room
J ake watched President Rebecca Rudd’s facial expression change. Her furrowed brow and downturned frown spoke volumes of the gravity of her dilemma. She pressed another button on her console and the large monitor on the left flickered then started playing a video. The images were washed out, grainy, and in black and white. Or at least it looked black and white.
“Oops, almost forgot. Evan, get the lights, please.” President Rudd paused the video while Makley dimmed the lights. “Before I begin I must warn you, this video is violent, sexual, and disturbing.”
“We understand, Ms. President,” Wiley pointed at Francesca then to Jake, “they can handle it.”
The video resumed, it was color but poor quality and the bad lighting in the scene didn’t help.
Rudd was right, the video was disturbing and Jake presumed it was filmed somewhere in Southeast Asia. On the large screen in front of him stood a man with his back to the camera; he was older with gray hair, slightly hunched, frail looking, and Caucasian. On her knees in front of him was a young Asian girl performing oral sex on him. By her size and features she couldn’t have been more than twelve. They appeared to be in some sort of primitive structure,
Initially Regan wasn’t sure they’d get to hike to the summit since the forecast called for rain, but the couple geared up anyway and left the Höllental parking area at 5:00 a.m.—right on schedule. Regan was intent on sticking to a schedule. Something she valued in her profession as an accountant that spilled over into her personal life.
The first part of the hike through the Höllental Gorge was along an easy footpath to the base of Höllental Klamm. The early morning sky was still waking, so headlamps helped them navigate through the dark, narrow gorge. A light drizzle coated the rock and droplets spit down on her as she walked.
Connors was a fair weather hiker and wanted to turn back but Regan insisted they push forward or they would regret it when the weather broke.
As she predicted, by the time she reached the top of the gorge, the sky had cleared and Regan could see their destination in the far distance—the cross at the Zugspitze summit. Regan and Connors passed the hikers’ hut at Höllentalanger without stopping. Many hikers wanted to get an early jump on the mountain and hiked to the hut the night before in order to shave a couple of hours and 600 meters vertical climb off their hiking day. The warning sign next to the hut said the Randkluft, the crevasse that formed between the ice of the glacier and the sun-warmed rock cliff, was very difficult and dangerous.
Regan hated that Connors was a wary climber and not the risk taker she was. But Connors was the cautious type, always gathering information before making a decision. At work and at play. Regan, on the other hand, jumped in headfirst and lived for the thrill. Risk taking and danger was what it was all about. Which made Connors the perfect compliment. Sam Connors kept her grounded. It seemed neither of their personalities matched their respective occupations—a conservative day-trader and a thrill-seeking accountant.
Connors caught up to Regan and sat down on the rock next to her. “I’m going to rest for a few minutes and psych myself up a bit.”
Regan cinched her harness, picked up her helmet, and stood. “Just remember, as long as your harness is fastened to the cable, you can’t fall.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Connors slipped a leg into the harness. “It’s just having nothing under me on the rock face except those small iron pegs bothers me. And you know I don’t like heights.”
Regan let out a short laugh and looked into Sam's blue eyes. “You're such a wimp.”
----
W hite House Situation Room
J ake watched President Rebecca Rudd’s facial expression change. Her furrowed brow and downturned frown spoke volumes of the gravity of her dilemma. She pressed another button on her console and the large monitor on the left flickered then started playing a video. The images were washed out, grainy, and in black and white. Or at least it looked black and white.
“Oops, almost forgot. Evan, get the lights, please.” President Rudd paused the video while Makley dimmed the lights. “Before I begin I must warn you, this video is violent, sexual, and disturbing.”
“We understand, Ms. President,” Wiley pointed at Francesca then to Jake, “they can handle it.”
The video resumed, it was color but poor quality and the bad lighting in the scene didn’t help.
Rudd was right, the video was disturbing and Jake presumed it was filmed somewhere in Southeast Asia. On the large screen in front of him stood a man with his back to the camera; he was older with gray hair, slightly hunched, frail looking, and Caucasian. On her knees in front of him was a young Asian girl performing oral sex on him. By her size and features she couldn’t have been more than twelve. They appeared to be in some sort of primitive structure,
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