Taylor - K2 by Coffeycake

Almost there.

Almost at the top.

The biting chill had long ago settled into his bones, stiffening his muscles. He flexed his fingers and shut out the painful protest that screamed through his nerve-endings. He forced his hand to grip the pickaxe handle. He arched it over his head, burying the pick into the mountain with a bone-jarring crunch he felt vibrate through his entire body. He willed his body to move. His arm flexed, lifting his weight toward the next handhold. He stretched, fingertips scrabbling against the frozen rock-face. They caught; held.

"Come on, H," he yelled. "Almost there!"

Submitted by: Kaety
Chris heard the scream and ran down the street. JD, alerted by the same piercing shrill, met Chris at the door.

The two of them, one on each side of the door waited, pistols drawn. As the gunmen exited with the young clerk in tow, Chris put the gun barrel to the gunman's head and cocked the pistol.

The only thing keeping the frightened clerk from fainting was the gunman's grip on her. As he released her, she began to fall. With a swift movement, Chris caught her in his strong, reassuring arms and fanned her back from her collapse.

part of LESSONS by Kathleen Greene

“You can call me Liz.” She said, as she and Chris sat together at the small table in the hotel.
“No. I couldn’t do that, Miss Hawkin.” Chris seemed shy suddenly. It was so unlike him.
“Well then, call me Elizabeth.” She offered instead.
Chris started to protest.
“But that’s my final offer!” She rushed on with a smile that collided with her eyes.
It was so contagious. Too contagious. And before he knew it, Chris was smiling back.
“Alright. I’m Chris.”
“Chris.” She repeated his name as if it were a sweet piece of chocolate she wanted to savor.

part of REDEMPTION by Kathleen Greene

Vin’s mind raced with the possibility of having his name cleared.
“I’ll go wire the judge.” And Mary was out the door.
“How far?” Vin asked, not quite casually.
“Two days out. Maybe. Two days back.”
“That don’t leave much time to get the man and bring ‘im back, now does it?”
“Not a problem. He’ll be right where I left ‘im. He ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Dani leaned back in her chair and took another casual drink of whiskey.
“How can you be sure?” Chris asked. He was already working a plan in his head.
Dani smiled mischievously. “Short rope.”

Russell tried to ignore the bedlam and focus on the brief in his hand. The scraping of toys over hardwood floors invaded his concentration. A young, over-excited voice broke in again, commanding in its admonishment of a variety of misbehaviours committed by an errant army of stuffed bears and G I Joe dolls. His son - lording over his charges with an iron hand, left no room for dissention. Russell smiled. The brief would go unfinished, the dishes unwashed. He knocked lightly on his son's door.

The coming of night canopies the terrain in a cloak of illusion and silhouette. Phantoms fade into the gloaming and dissipate, puffs of images evaporating like the mists of morning. A shadow stands amoungst the exotic South American vegetation; unintrusive, accepted by the darkness. The sounds of the jungle call reassuringly to each other, masking the soft whispers of air that mark each breath the shadow dares. Inches away from his position, two armed sentries pass by. They see nothing, lulled by the familar sounds of the warm night. Behind them the shadow crosses their spent steps, unseen, moving away.