The last check-in from Catherine had been days ago, and the searchers were not optimistic. There were a million things that could happen to a lone researcher on the ice. Nobody looked forward to breaking the news of Catherine's death to Catherine's fiance Doug, who had to be gently persuaded not to join the search team. (Doug was an IT specialist, not someone trained to handle arctic conditions, but try explaining that to a man sick to death with worry over the woman he loved.) The searchers were desperately hoping to find Catherine alive.
One advantage of searching in the Arctic was a clear line of sight, and Janet, the senior of the two search and recovery specialists, made out a large moving speck across the horizon. Catherine's dog team? The two moved closer.
Janet sucked in her breath. The arctic could be a weird place, but that was the weirdest thing she had ever seen. Catherine's sled, but pulled not by a dog or by Catherine, but by the biggest arctic wolf Janet had ever seen.
The two would need to examine the sled, even though she didn't seen Catherine's body anywhere. Janet lifted the rifle loaded with tranquilizing darts. . . .