"Exactly, which is why we're going with your plan. We'll head to the coast on these snowmobiles and bribe our way out."
"While the chopper heads South, as a decoy and attracts all the attention!" Trent said completing my thought.
Trent wasted no time in firing up the chopper. He took it aloft and it hovered there for a moment. A rope fell from it to the ground that was close to 100 feet in length. The chopper started away and then Trent was skating down the rope at breakneck speed, with only two carabineers hooked to it. He'd be lucky, if he didn't break a leg, at the rate of descent he was coming down at.
He seemed to slow down a little just before slipping past the end of the rope and landing heavily in the deep snow of the clearing some 200 feet away from us. The snowmobiles roared to life and Deshavi and I headed for him, as the chopper sped out of view towards the south on autopilot. Trent sat up stiffly in the snow and I helped him up onto the snowmobile behind Deshavi.
As far as I could tell he hadn't broken anything, but he was pretty shook up. In his befuddlement of pain he grasped around for something to hang on to, but found nothing. Deshavi pulled his arms tightly around her and I heard her say, "Hang on to me, because I'm never going to let go of you!"
Trent smiled wanly before resting his head forward onto her shoulder.
I patted him on the back, as I headed for my snowmobile. The man had given his all in the rescue of his woman and in the process of doing so, with some Divine help, he had rescued more than just her mortal flesh, but also the very essence of who she was as a person as well. Nothing more could be asked of a man in the protection of his woman than that.
I got on my snowmobile and meeting Deshavi's eyes I said, "Let's go home!"
We took off, headed up the valley, toward the coastline to the east of us. The snowmobiles and the extra gas that I'd packed along would get us most of the way there. We'd be able to walk the rest of the way easily.
Chatta brought up the high powered rifle and squinted, as he sighted through the scope at the retreating snowmobiles. It had been a clever ploy to send the chopper headed south, as a decoy, while they headed for the coast. If he'd had his radio he would've apprised his handlers of the situation, but he'd lost it in the snow, when that witch had clocked him on the head with a piece of wood.