Page 5 of Nothing But Air

“Xander, do you have a visual?” Eden’s voice was a little stronger.

“That jump was insane.” Xander’s tone came through, openly admiring. “Teague’s a beast. Got it all on video. Eden, I’m sending you the clip to your cell now.”

He had her private phone number? Just kept getting better and better.

“I meant visual on the climber,” Eden said flatly.

“Right. Subject’s holding. Barely.”

Teague worked quickly, pulling a hasty harness from his gear sling and threading webbing around the kid’s waist.

“What’s your name?” he asked, keeping his voice light.

“T-Tim.”

“Okay, Tim. You’re doing great. Holding this position for thirty minutes takes serious strength.” He clipped a locking carabiner through the harness and his rope, checking twice. “Talk to me. What brought you up here?”

Tim’s whisper was barely audible. “The treasure. Roosevelt’s gold. I saw something that matched the clue.”

Of course.

Teague bit back a few choice words.

“Yeah, well. We’ll get you down safe. Then we’ll have a conversation about how no treasure is worth dying for.”

The whole world had gone crazy since Nimue had found the first treasure in June, tucked in the crag of a rock overhang. The second chest, found in a cave just over two weeks ago, had only added fuel to the frenzy, even though it had been lost in a collapse that had nearly taken his life. He could still feel the ground dropping beneath him as he’d jumped for the chopper. The wind tearing at his clothes. The half second of nothing before his hands caught the skid.

Geologists and miners had declared the second chest a lost cause—the cost of excavating the collapsed cave far exceeded the chest’s value. Since reaching it would require heavy machinery and months of work, no one worried about treasure hunters. Which meant one cache left. And lucky him, the last one was supposed to be on a cliff’s edge.

He met the kid’s eyes again as he secured the final rope. “And maybe before you climb again, take some classes on basic gear. Ropes. Harnesses. The fun stuff that keeps you alive.”

Tim nodded desperately.

Teague keyed his radio. “Liam, subject secured. Beginning descent.”

“Copy. I can’t take your weight at this angle—you’ll have to downclimb with him.”

“Roger that.”

Teague shifted to face Tim directly. “Here’s the deal. We’re going down together. I control speed. You walk backward, small steps, weight over your feet.” He held the kid’s gaze. “I’ve got you. You literally cannot fall. Ready?”

Another nod.

The descent was slow and ugly—Tim’s legs barely functional, movements jerky. Teague controlled their progress while maintaining steady encouragement, inch by inch down the rock face. Small pebbles rained past them with each movement.

When his boots finally hit solid ground, Liam was there immediately, wrapping Tim in an emergency blanket and pressing a water bottle into his shaking hands.

Teague unclipped and reached for his own water. His hands trembled—adrenaline dump, normal after a rescue. He shook them out and tried to slow his breathing.

Liam pressed his radio. “Subject secure. Rescue complete. No injuries.”

Eden’s relief was palpable even through the static. “Copy that.” A pause. Then her voice came back, lighter. “Good work, Teague.”

Something warm flickered in his chest. He shoved it down. “Thanks, Garrison.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, Hamilton.”

He crouched beside Tim. “You’re safe now. But listen to me—no treasure is worth your life or the hefty fine for climbing without clearance in a national park. And no more climbing period until you get properly trained. Deal?”