The cliff towered forty feet above the frozen lake. Hanging off the edge was not ideal.

A muted rumble beneath the snow had the two of us stumbling into the rocky lining. Clumsy footing paired with a sheet of black ice and a relentless gust hauled me over. I had clawed and screamed for a grip, but only the rope hooked from my belt to my partner's kept me afloat in the icy current.

The wind screamed in my ears.

"Tyler!" I yelled. "Pull me up."
A pause long enough for fear to slip down the back of my ski-jacket. "...ground's unsteady," I managed to make out.
"Dig your heels in."
It took a moment for the message to carry. "What?"
"Dig your heels in!"
"I can't hear you!"
Oh for—I yanked the scarf from my nose and mouth, gasping at the cold that whooshed in and settled around my muscles and heart. "Dig. Your heels. In."

Snow and ice crunched beneath rubber, and the ascent began.

A sigh from my lips fogged the goggles suctioned to my temples. I tried rubbing them clean, but an opaque mist fuzzed the shapes of the frozen wasteland; even the blue glisten beneath the dusting of snow was no longer visible.

Hiss.

I dropped.

Nylon twanged as I jerked to a stop. I knocked into the glacial wall by the wrath of the brewing blizzard. Heat stung my arms.

At least I remained airborne.

I gulped at the drop below me, then looked up. "Tyler?"
"I slipped!"
"Well done. Now haul her arse onto solid ground," Scotty snapped. I winced at the sound, and tapped the radio concealed beneath my hair. The collision with the cliffside had tripped a wire, sparking my eardrums with his pitchy accent.
"I'm trying," Tyler replied.
"Not good enough. Do."

I groaned. Collins insisted on Tyler accompanying me on the investigation as I would have 'benefitted from the offer of educating others' – not to mention he was due a promotion and required an observation. Scotty opposed our separation for the mission, Derek brought up the conversation on his recent lack of fieldwork as per usual, but Collins was persistent I took Tyler alone as the others were far too brash to provide an educational experience. Personally, I imagined myself horrifically unqualified for such a job, but agreed once I was threatened with the mission's reassignment by Rodriguez.

So, I had to teach. Remain calm and display patience. Just like Collins said.

"Take a breath," I instructed him. "Take a breath, regain your footing, and try again."
"It's so slippery," he said.
A snort. "That's what she—"
"Not now, Scotty!"

He made another attempt and I went up.

Up.

Up.

And down. I took another beating from the wall for good measure.

"I'm sorry!" he cried. "It's just so cold, a-and slippery and I can't—"
"Breathe." I grimaced at the throb in my cheek. If I did not need to communicate with Tyler, I would have pulled the scarf back over it to protect the raw skin. "You are an agent. You are in control of—"
"I'm cutting the rope."
"You are—" The squeak from my throat carried across the mountaintops. "What?"

Sawing. Sawing sounded from above the cliff's edge.

"Tyler Hops I swear to god if you are—"
"We're both not getting out of this. It's pointless for us both to die."
The earpiece crackled. "Hops, if you let her fall, you might as well jump in after her because the pain I am going to unleash on you—"

His knife sliced through the final thread of nylon, letting me go.

The wind drowned all else out: the shouts of Scotty, the cries of Tyler – all of it. Nature dominated my senses from the sounds in my ears to the sight of the radiant sun fading away beyond dark stretches of cloud.

I braced for the soul-sucking waters, but they did not come. The sheet of ice shattered into a thousand shards upon impact, blinding the fall.

I blacked out with no knowledge of what surrounded me. Only cold.

Derek Barnes

Void of emotion, I stared at the speaker.

Nothing. After the rope snapped and the yelling commenced, there was just... nothing.

Hops had switched off his radio.

"Shit," Davis breathed.
"Dammit." Scotty jabbed a chair with his foot. "Dammit!"
"Williams, restrain yourself."
He turned on Rodriguez. "I'll restrain myself when I know Amber's alive."

My chest hollowed out, and everything weighed in all at once – every muscle tensed from my jaw to my shins, heart thundering and bashing against my skull at the image of her plummeting down that cliff, further and further towards the icy abyss.

Then hot, white anger took over.

Tyler Hops was going to die. But first, I had to get Amber back, and I trusted no-one else to return her safely.

"I'm going to Siberia."
Collins's blue eyes popped from his skull. "You are on medical leave."

I could hear Amber's voiced laced in his words. For someone so driven within the agency, she was reluctant to let me return even to office work. "I'm due back in a week, anyway. Besides, I'm not in pain anymore."

Understanding flashed across Scotty's eyes. I wondered if Amber had told him of the prescription. If she did, he ignored it. "Let him go. I need someone to hold down Hops so I can launch him out the back of Tracey's hangar."
Rodriguez pointed a finger my way. "Barnes—" He sighed. "—don't sue me if that leg plays up."

With a lazy salute, I grabbed my jacket and followed Scotty out the office, headed for the elevator.

"Make sure to wear the correct attire for the climate!" Collins called, panicked.
"We'll be dapper and warm," I replied on my way out the door. "You can count on it."

Scotty and I walked to the elevator in silence, both tense when the doors shut. The two of us were not the best of friends, but we both agreed on one thing: Amber would not suffer if we had any sort of power over it.

And if she did suffer, we would ensure those responsible would pay a heavy toll.

Amber Knight

Brutal cold numbed the side of my face that pressed against the icy floor. I smacked my lips together, the skin so dry it flaked away, mouth void of all moisture and throat completely raw. I forced a cough as I opened my eyes.

I couldn't see.

Panic soared before I realised my goggles had cracked, the glass webbing inches from my eyes. I was lucky no shards broke. Otherwise, removing the goggles would not have been enough to regain my vision.

Clarity was blissful until I realised where I was.

I fell the forty feet and smashed through a thin sheet of glass hued in turquoise: an illusion of a frozen lake. I did not drown, nor was the ice thick enough to break my bones, though bruises had certainly formed. A hill of shovelled snow cushioned the blow and I had rolled down to the bottom, dragging the white dust over flat ground. I was fortunate to survive, but the gratitude fell on its head as my skull throbbed. Gently, I combed through my scalp, wincing at the wet taint of blood. Likely not a concussion, at least.

I still had to get out.

I tapped my earpiece, but it wailed back at me; broken. I took it out.

Backtracking was impossible. Even if my climbing equipment had not been lost in the fall, left atop the ice from my initial tumble off the cliff, the jump from the peak of the hill to the sharpened ledge of glass was much too high for any person to reach. My only way was forward.

The glacial walls and chunks of obsidian-black limestone twisted into a tunnel that faced me directly. I dragged myself up, limbs wobbling and muscles screeching in agony. The sky overheard turned dark. I had been out for hours at best – days at most.

No. Due to excessive opposition, Rodriguez was yet to reintroduce a tracking system for its agents, but I did not doubt my co-workers – not to mention my family – would neglect to send a rescue team. I had not moved from the landing zone. If the search had started, I would have been found. Only hours had passed.

I stumbled into the cave mouth and kept walking.

And walking.

And walking.

And walking.

Until ice turned to metal.

Contrasting against the pristine white snow, aluminium grating had been laid into a makeshift path for grip, winding around corners like a road, lit by yellow floor lights, wires leading a trail to a nearby generator. I stepped from the tunnel and onto the grating, cringing at the echo as it sunk.

A junction. Left, or right?

A scuffle from the right had me frozen. The decision had become much clearer now. It was not just left or right, but get out... or explore.

I had been assigned the mission to investigate a rumour of Marcus having a lab in Siberia. If what I believed was true... I had stumbled right into it. I had to explore. I was a bad agent, otherwise.

I crept down the right tunnel, hugging the inside wall. Voices grew louder as I rounded: two of them. Both male.

"Don't put equipment with the glass utensils." I flinched at the sight of the items in question: test tubes, syringes, conical flasks... Marcus was here.
"Bloody hell, Adams, look at all that space! It'll save us time instead of lugging an extra box out the back."
"The glass is delicate. You put a toolbox in there and—" Crash! "That. That's what happens!"
"Damn. I didn't expect that."
"It's GLASS."

Their bickering continued on for a few minutes while I listened in, the argument entailing more than just the packing of boxes. If it was just an individual, I would have taken him captive for questioning, but taking on two entirely unarmed was a mistake; investigating undetected was preferable.

I needed them to move. It was impossible to sneak passed the tunnel they fought in.

After a vulgar comment regarding an ex-wife, the two separated down different tunnels, only a corner between each of them.

The one called Adams packed another box, while the other turned his back on him, examining the contents of one already packed.

I spied a box by Adams's feet: climbing equipment from hooks, to ropes, to a pickaxe.

It had to be enough. I had nothing else.

Tiptoeing towards it, I reached out for the handle.

I spun as the floor sunk behind me, but I was not quick enough.

I almost gasped when brought to my knees from a grip on the zip of my coat, and Adams became aware of my presence as his friend grabbed me.
"What's she—"

I swung my leg behind his, his knees buckling and folding him to the floor. As Adams charged, I flattened and donkey-kicked him hard in the chest to launch him away.

I jumped to my feet. Adams's partner took a swing – I blocked. Another – I blocked again. With his third, I stepped back and grabbed his wrist, twisting it towards me, then jabbed his leg with my boot, knocking him down as Adams stepped in.
"You know who she is. We hand her to Knight!"

They both launched: Adams meeting my fist with his partner meeting my foot. I had strengthened over the past year, though my height was a disadvantage. The strain in holding them off was taking its toll.

The pickaxe winked.

I rolled back and snatched it from the box. Before Adams reached me, I struck.

The tip of the axe wedged in his abdomen with a wet crunch. He toppled over, white with shock, and died before he understood what had happened.

His partner dove. I tried holding out the axe, hoping to question him, but his hands craned for my throat. I staggered back into the wall, grip slipping on the handle. As he squeezed, I dropped the axe into my right hand and lurched it towards him.

His hands released my neck, and I let out a sigh.

My stomach wailed as I took in the bloody sight. Not a way anyone deserved to go, but a way they had to if I wanted to survive. Adams's words rang in my head: 'We take her to Knight.' Not in my lifetime would I be handed over to him. From what happened a year prior, I imagined he did not want me anywhere near his labs while I despised him. He knew I would burn them to the ground, myself with it, if it meant putting an end to him and his work.

"I heard something down there."

I swore. These two were not alone, and others prowled the icy tunnels, now aware a hostile lurked within them.

I had to go.

Two more corridors down, and something crunched beneath my feet.

I bent down and picked up the rose gold chain that knotted itself around the metal grating, a fawn charm dangling from it.

Gabby's bracelet.

I held onto the wall, a sigh escaping my lips as tears pricked the ducts in my eyes. Images crossed my mind of her being dragged away, crying in fear of what awaited her within Marcus's clutches. All because she wanted to be brave.

After a year, we finally had a sign.

QOTD: Which character have you missed the most?