Twenty-Six receipts of betrayal Novel novel Chapter 74

Chapter 5

The side of the aircraft read “National Geographic Emergency Rescue“-it was Editor–in–Chief Kincaid!

He’d come himself!

“Everyone on the ground! Cease all activity NOW!”

The loudspeaker cut through the howling wind. The helicopter’s rotors kicked up a blizzard of snow.

Rescue team members fast–roped down, their pro gear and efficiency immediately taking control of the situation.

Thaddeus took one look at me–nearly stripped bare and dying in the snow–and his face went deadly serious:

“Medics! Move your asses! Severe altitude sickness with hypothermia! Get the hyperbaric ready and warm IV fluids,

now!”

They swarmed me, wrapping me in thick thermal blankets, securing an oxygen mask connected to a high–concentration supply.

“Altered mental status, core temp critically low, weak pulse! Ten more minutes and we’d be looking at irreversible brain or organ damage!”

Cassian started scrambling, trying to spin the situation:

“Chief Kincaid! This is all a big misunderstanding! She was just throwing a tantrum! We were about to take care of

her…”

Lyra jumped right in with her fake smile:

“Exactly! Mr. Kincaid, Isolde was just messing around–she ripped her own jacket! We were trying to calm her down…”

Thaddeus shot them a cold look:

“SAVE IT. I’ve got her distress call and the live audio feed the GoPro! We’ll sort this out when we get back!”

He pointed to the small recording device one of his team members was carrying.

The chopper blades kept churning overhead, the whole aircraft rocking in the mountain winds.

The crushing headache and nausea backed off slightly with the oxygen, but I still felt like I’d been flash–frozen from the inside out.

The thermal blanket’s weak warmth couldn’t touch the fire–and–ice torture where my skin had been exposed.

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Twenty Six Receipts of Betrayal: My Silence Was the Countdown to His Eternal Regret

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Chapter 5

“Isolde? You with me? Can you hear what I’m saying?” Thaddeus’s voice cut through the noise with concern.

He crouched next to my stretcher, his mountain gear still crusted with ice.

He had a tablet in his hands, the screen showing what looked like video playback.

I could barely make out Lyra’s face leaning over me in the footage.

“How are you feeling? Can you talk?”

I tried to nod but my throat felt like I’d been gargling broken glass.

The medic immediately hooked up a warm IV bag:

“Don’t try to talk yet. Severe altitude sickness plus hypothermia tears up your throat something fierce. Speaking now will just make it worse. Just focus on breathing.”

The warm fluid hit my bloodstream, chasing away some of the ice in my veins.

I looked at Thaddeus’s tablet, my lips barely moving as I croaked out:

“They…”

“They’re being watched by the rescue team, on the same aircraft but kept separate. Don’t worry.”

Thaddeus’s expression went arctic as he tapped the tablet screen.

“Your satellite phone’s got emergency recording. It records everything for the last few minutes and beams it straight to our servers. And Lyra’s GoPro running the whole time for ‘behind–the–scenes content.‘ Got everything in 4K.”

I stared at the frozen frame on his tablet–Lyra’s face twisted with malice.

Sweet as pie in front of Cassian, showing her true colors to me.

Every move perfectly calculated–the oxygen switch, ripping my clothes, the threats.

And the stupid bitch filmed herself doing it.

The medic scribbled notes on his electronic chart:

“02 sats are coming back up, but core temp’s still sitting at 91. This hypothermia’s severe–we need her in the pressure chamber and on active rewarming protocols.”

“Acute mountain sickness plus severe hypothermia. Ten more minutes out here and even if we pulled her through, we’d be looking at permanent nerve damage, maybe lost fingers and toes.”

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Twenty–Six Receipts of Betrayal: My Silence Was the Countdown to His Eternal Regret

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Chapter S

“What about the sponsors and the studio?” I suddenly remembered Cassian’s dad bankrolled half this operation.

“Are they gonna…”

Thaddeus leaned closer, his voice dropping to that hard tone he used in boardrooms.

“I didn’t claw my way to the top of National Geographic by kissing ass and playing politics. I don’t give a fuck whose daddy writes the checks.”

“All I know was they tried to murder my photographer. ”

“Anyone implicated in this situation will face serious consequences!”

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