Free The Edge by Roland Smith Page B

now, but I’m sure they’ll be along soon. No need to panic.”
    Mom did not look panicked; she looked irritated. With good reason. The Wakhan Corridor was no place to be wandering around at night. Five or six miles on this terrain in the dark could be lethal. The film crew were all fit, but the only one with any substantial climbing experience was Ethan. I wasn’t sure how good his navigation skills were in the dark in a place he had never been before.
    â€œDo you have the secret drone images?” Mom asked.
    This was a test question. I knew my mom well.
    â€œIn my tent, but I don’t see how—”
    Wrong answer.
    â€œGet them,” Mom said.
    Phillip gave her a dazzling smile. “You are not going after them.”
    Mom did not return the smile.
    Phillip pointed the smile at us, ignoring her completely. “I guess I should clarify who’s in charge of this expedition. That would be me. As the director, I’m calling the shots here. It’s not necessarily the job I want, but I’m the most experienced and very good at it. I’m not going to have my climbers running around in the dark like decapitated chickens. We can’t afford to have our climbers injured before the climb.”
    â€œAnd if something happens to the film crew before the climb, you will have no video.” This little bit of wisdom was from Zopa. “Get the photographs and the topography maps.”
    No trouble with Zopa’s English now.
    Phillip attempted to stare him down, which was like trying to win a staring contest with a statue of the Buddha. Phillip lost. He very coolly walked over to his tent and went inside. We heard Cindy screech a few choice words at him. There is no privacy in a camp. Phillip returned a moment later with a stack of photos and a roll of topo maps. We all gathered around him.
    â€œI still think we should just wait,” Phillip said, finding the right photo. “Here’s the river.” He pointed. “Here’s our camp. And here’s where I sent them.”
    Mom and Zopa stared at the grainy photo.
    â€œShow me the spot on the map,” Mom said.
    Phillip impatiently unrolled the maps, found the one he was looking for, and pointed again. “Right here.”
    â€œPoint out the camp again,” Mom said.
    Phillip stabbed a manicured finger at the spot.
    Zopa shook his head. “No. We are here.” He pointed to a spot about three miles upriver from where Phillip was pointing.
    â€œI think you’re mistake—”
    â€œI am correct.” Zopa cut him off. “I have been here for several days. I will take Teri and Peak with me to find them.”
    â€œWhatever,” Phillip said. “But you’re wasting your time. They’ll probably be back here before you get back.” He looked at me. “You may want to stick around. I was just about to go through my parameters for the interviews.”
    â€œParameters?”
    â€œYeah. You’re all free to say whatever you want, but there are certain things I’m looking for. It would be unfair not to tell all of you what I need to level the playing field.”
    â€œI’ll take my chances.” I picked up my pack.
    â€œI would like to go too,” Alessia said.
    Mom shook her head. “We’ve got this. No sense in everyone going.” She looked at Phillip. “What I don’t understand is how Plank would provide all of this wonderful equipment and not think to supply us with two-way radios as a backup to cell and sat phones.”
    Phillip looked uncomfortable. It was the first time his confident demeanor had wavered even a little bit. “Well . . . uh . . . actually, there are two-ways. It’s such antiquated tech, I didn’t even think to use them. I’m sure they don’t have much range. In fact, I’m not sure they’re charged. To be honest, I don’t even know how to use them.”
    If Phillip