by Kathryn Hoff
“Then change your position!”
Kanut raised a hand. “Son, put away that weapon or you’ll be up on charges. This is a national wildlife refuge—you understand what that means? Every animal here is under my protection.”
Sera had abandoned the old lady and begun running as soon as she heard her aunt’s shout. Already, she was halfway to the herd.
Doc Dupris moved to the left, making fan out motions. Sera jogged right and Cortez held the middle. Kanut approved: as coordinated as the wolf pack, but with a purpose to protect the herd.
Butterick’s face got even redder. “Kanut, you have a court order!”
Kanut nodded slowly. “I got a court order to remove dangerous animals from private property. But this ain’t private property, and I don’t see any dangerous animals.”
“What do you call those?”
Kanut scratched his bristly chin. “Those? To me they look like moose.”
“Moose? Bullshit.” Butterick turned to the private. “You have your orders.”
Kanut spoke to the soldier. “Son, this isn’t Afghanistan, this is the United States of America. And I’m an Alaska state trooper telling you that’s an illegal order. Are you going to fire on civilians?”
The soldier’s lips paled. His eyes darted nervously to the major. “Sir, I can’t proceed with civilians in the line of fire. Sir.”
Butterick jerked the rifle out of the soldier’s hands. “I’ll have you court-martialed!”
He strode toward the herd, the rifle at ready.
Stupid. Even as Estelle ran toward the mammoths, she damned herself as a fool. Putting myself in the line of fire to save a bunch of animals that probably shouldn’t exist anyway.
Cortez was just standing there, halfway between the mammoths and the soldiers arguing with Kanut. Fine for him—they’re his animals. But why should she stand in the way of the army?
Because her whole career was about saving lives. And damn it, that little calf Jade is my goddaughter.
Estelle checked over her shoulder. Oh, hell! Sera was dashing down the hill toward her.
Drawing even with Cortez, Estelle motioned for Sera to take position on the left, hoping that would keep her safer.
Lower down the hill, the mammoths shuffled uncertainly, keeping an eye on the human activity.
Breathing hard, Estelle took up position on the right. She turned in time to see the officer snatch the rifle from the young soldier and come striding down the slope toward them.
The medical side of her mind automatically noted the army officer’s red face, clenched jaw, and extra pounds. Better get that blood pressure checked, sir. Could be a heart attack in the making.
The more terrified side of her mind told her they were three puny humans standing between a herd of mammoths and an angry man with a gun.
She turned to Cortez. “What should we do?”
“Don’t move.” He turned to the mammoths and called, “Di, Di, hey-up! Hey-up, Turq!”
He stooped and laid his tablet on the ground, his fingers dancing over the screen. A long screaming cry rang out from the speaker.
Mammoth heads rose. Trunks shot up. The eerie scream was echoed by the members of the herd—louder, stronger. A call to chill the blood. EeeAAAAhhhaaa!
The biggest mammoth stepped forward, shaking his head so his tusks slashed the air like sabers. He lifted his trunk and let out another hair-raising bellow.
The officer stopped, a grim smile on his face.
The big mammoth began to march toward him.
“Don’t shoot them!” Sera screamed.
Estelle yelled, “Put that rifle down, you moron!”
The officer knelt and raised the rifle to his shoulder, aiming at the beast bearing down on him.
At the top of the hill, the young soldier took a step to follow the major, but Kanut laid a hand on his shoulder. “Better stay here, son.”
Cortez shouted something nearly lost in the wind, “Di, Di . . . up, Turq!”
“What’d he say?” the soldier asked. “Die?”
Kanut rubbed his jaw. “Sounded like a warning to me. There are some calves down there. The, um, moose get protective.”
Cortez was performing his magic trick with his tablet.
The mammoths responded instantly, raising their trunks to call out their war cry: half siren, half scream, half yodel. EeeAAAAhhhaaa!
The young soldier watched, mouth gaping. “Holy shit.”
One of the mammoths—Diamond, the one with the big tusks—started his march toward the major.
Ignoring the shouts from the women, Butterick knelt and raised the rifle to his shoulder.
From the left flank, a second mammoth emerged. It ran forward, head up, screeching like an out-of-tune bugle.
Butterick swung the rifle toward the new threat. Pow! The sound echoed up the hill.
The girl screamed and flattened herself on the ground. Doc Dupris shook her fist and shouted curses.
The second mammoth veered away, but Diamond’s march quickened to a run.
Pow! Another shot rang out, but it would be pure luck if it hit anything—the major was already running, two angry mammoths on his heels.
Diamond got to him first. A huge head swung down. Tusks scooped the man up like a goalie protecting the soccer net.
The mammoth tossed Butterick aside like yesterday’s newspaper.
“Oh my gawd!” The soldier stood rooted. “Did you see that?”
The major landed with a crash and a yell of pain.
Diamond picked up the discarded rifle by the barrel. With an effortless swing of his trunk, he threw the weapon thirty yards—onto the glacier. The rifle slid, skittering down the frozen waterfall and out of sight.
“My weapon!” the soldier cried.
“I guess they don’t like firearms,” Kanut said. “Better get that gurney, son. The major’s gonna need it.”
Luis grinned as the major crashed to the ground. Serves the murderous bastard right. Diamond, still hot-blooded, stood over the fallen man, tusks inches from his face.
Luis hustled to coax Diamond away—not because he cared if Diamond gored the major, but because killing humans, even if they deserved it, was what got animals slaughtered. “Easy, Di. Brum-rum, brum-rum. Back now, back. Danger’s over. Move out. Tcha.”
“Get that monster away from me!” Butterick yelled.
Di remained on guard for a moment but, seeing his victim thoroughly subdued, calmed enough to wander a few feet away to pluck at a sheaf of grass.
Luis turned back to the injured man. “Well, Major Butterick. You wanted to see a mammoth up close? Congratulations, you succeeded.”
Butterick grimaced. “My leg’s broken. Get that doctor.”
Luis couldn’t suppress a smile. “You mean the woman whose life you just put in danger? I’ll see if she’s feeling up to putting you on her schedule.”
Leaving the major where he lay, Luis walked to where the two women had grabbed one another in a strangling hug. “Are you ladies all right?”
“Is it over?” Sera gasped. “Has the shooting stopped? Is the baby all right?”
Luis grinned. “They might find that rifle at the bottom of the glacier in a thousand years or so.” Sooner if the climate models were right. “You risked your lives to protect the mammoths. Thank you.” It was a completely boneheaded thing to do—the mammoths were quite capable of managing without the women’s sentimentally motivated “help”—but he appreciated it all the same. “Dr. Dupris, if you and the young lady aren’t hurt, I think the major needs some medical help.”
The doctor was trembling—aftereffects of shock, maybe, or maybe just anger.
“Let the bastard suffer,” she said. “Nobody points a gun at my family. Sera, you may not be born to me or raised by me, but you’re mine now and no asshole in a military uniform is gonna take you away from me.” The doctor’s Southern accent had thickened with her emotional temperature.
The girl’s eyes widened, but her
surprise turned into a giggle. “Now, Aunt Estelle, where’s your Christian charity? The man’s hurt.”
“Humph. Not feeling so very charitable at the moment. But I suppose I did take an oath.” She squared her shoulders and walked, not hurrying, to the groaning major.
Butterick’s face was contorted in pain, his leg askew. “My leg’s broken.”
The doctor knelt at his side and spoke in tones dripping with honey. “Well, bless your heart. You certainly took a nasty fall.” The major cursed and moaned as she prodded. “Possible concussion. Can you move your toes? Does that hurt? Oh, dear, your hip . . . Sera, run up and tell that soldier we’ll need a stretcher—after they use it to help Annie into the helicopter.”
Laughing, Luis looked around for his tablet—and found it smashed under a broad footprint.
Damn! He’d been counting on its maps for navigating the herd to grid Hb27. Without it . . .
His breath caught. Without it, the herd would be better off trusting Ruby to choose the route.
Ruby’s follow call made his head jerk up.
The herd was already on the move.
Ruby was heading east, toward the glacier, perhaps smelling spruce forest on the other side. The other mammoths obediently fell in behind, the troika grouped protectively around Opal and her little calf.
Good old Ruby. Wolves, helicopter, men with rifles: she’d wisely decided this wasn’t a safe neighborhood.
Luis watched them leaving, a lump in his throat.
Tramping down the moraine bank, Ruby began to pick a path over the glacier. The ice, so treacherous to human boots, seemed to be no problem for wide, supple footpads. Baby Jade slipped once, but her mother was right there to provide a supporting trunk.
With a final snort in the major’s direction, Diamond turned and strode after the herd.
Halfway across the glacier, Ruby paused to look back. Raising her trunk, she again sounded her call. Follow.
“Sorry, Ruby, old girl,” Luis whispered. “I can’t go with you this time. Time for you and me to part ways.”
For days, Luis had dreaded the moment when he would have to leave the herd, but now the decision was made. The herd was leaving him.
CHAPTER 41
Going home
Kanut and the young marksman loaded Butterick—swearing a blue streak—into the helicopter, strapping his stretcher over the four rear seats.
As Doc Dupris fussed over the major, the soldier turned desperately to Kanut. “Sir, the major piloted the helo here himself. How are we going to fly out of here?”
Kanut grinned. “Well, son, it just so happens I flew Black Hawks when I served in ’Stan. These days, I mostly fly the troopers’ A-Star, but I expect I can get us to Fairbanks.” He glanced over at Butterick. “What do you say, Major? Will you authorize me to fly your bird? Or would you rather call in another unit to rescue you?”
In terms profane enough to make Doc Dupris tsk and Kanut wince, Butterick declared that he would call for backup only when heaven, Earth, hell, and everything in between froze over.
Kanut nodded. “That’s settled then. Now, son, let’s go help the old lady to board. Be careful with her, she’s a heart patient.”
The soldier paused. “Sir? What about those animals we were supposed to kill?”
“This isn’t moose-hunting season, son.”
“That was no damn moose!” Butterick roared. “They’re elephants! Goddamn hairy, mutant elephants!”
“Now settle down,” Doc Dupris ordered. “You got a nasty knock on the head. Maybe an MRI is in order. Have you had any other hallucinations?”
The young soldier’s eyes returned to Kanut. “But, sir, what about my rifle?”
Kanut gave him a fatherly pat on the arm. “I guess you’re just going to have to tell your commander what happened. The major requested your weapon to, ah, examine it, and lost it when he was attacked by an angry moose. Did you know that in Alaska, more people are injured every year by moose than by bears?”
“Sir?”
Kanut hoped the young fellow hadn’t set his sights on an illustrious army career. But at least it was a better story than “my rifle was stolen by an illegal pot grower and stomped by a mammoth.” On the way home, he’d have to work on that story a little.
After lifting Annie into a seat next to the doctor, Kanut strapped her in—pink bathrobe, fluffy slippers, and all.
She smiled sweetly and clutched his hand. “You’re a good boy,” she whispered. “I knew the Lord would send someone. I’m glad it was someone like you.”
“I had a lot of help,” he answered shyly. He’d have to go visit his own mother again, soon. Maybe he’d get her a pair of fluffy slippers for the chilly mornings.
Sera came next, carrying their battered suitcases and her aunt’s red medical kit—what was left of it after being kicked around by a herd of mammoths.
“You happy to be going back to Fairbanks?” Kanut handed her into one of the three crew seats behind the pilot.
Sera’s smile lit the dingy helicopter. “Going home. Aunt Estelle, I was just thinking—the University of Alaska has a good environmental program, doesn’t it? I think I’d like to learn more about that.” Her aunt grinned like she’d won the lottery.
Going home. Kanut couldn’t wait. The kids would get overexcited and yell and climb all over him, and he’d love every moment of it. Karen would be furious at him for leaving her alone so long. He smiled, thinking of all the ways he’d make it up to her. Like a lion, he thought. Lots of roaring and fight to protect the pride. And like any good lion, he wanted a fierce lioness like Karen at his side. Something an alley cat like Cortez would never be able to appreciate.
Going home. For Luis that meant his cramped Fairbanks apartment—minus his television, laptop, and liquor if Brandon had been feeling vindictive. And no job. If Anjou didn’t get his funding back soon, Luis might even have to go back to Phoenix to live with his mother. The thought made him shudder.
But maybe he could find something better. After all, why wait for Ginger to start the publicity campaign? The only reason to keep the mammoths’ trek a secret had been to delay the army from finding them. Now that the army had tracked them down, publicity was the mammoths’ best hope. And Sera was perfect: young, pretty, personable, with a dramatic story to tell. What better advocate could the mammoths have?
He picked up his satphone to make calls to three Fairbanks television newsrooms.
Luis was last to board the helicopter, shoving inside his saddlebags full of gear. Choosing a seat next to Sera, he strapped himself in.
“You know, what you did back there was pretty brave.” He tried for a friendly smile, well aware that a scruffy-bearded stranger might be intimidating to a young woman.
Sera turned to him, her face earnest. “I couldn’t stand by and let them shoot them. That would be horrible—especially the new baby. Why would they do that?”
“The major seems to think the mammoths are dangerous.”
Sera straightened, chin up. “So are tigers, but we still need to protect them. Will the mammoths be all right now?”
“Only if people don’t hunt them down. It wouldn’t be the first time humans have driven mammoths to extinction.”
The hawk-eyed doctor, in the rear-facing seat behind Sera, turned enough to glance his way, not objecting to his speaking to the girl but letting him know she was keeping her niece in sight.
Don’t worry, lady. I’m not out to take advantage of her—at least not in the way you’re worried about.
Luis nodded to the glittering purple cellphone peeking out of Sera’s pocket. “Did you get some good pictures?”
“Don’t worry, I won’t post them.”
“That’s all right. So many people have seen them now, there’s no point in trying to keep the mammoths secret anymore.” He brightened as if he’d just had a brilliant thought. “You know, I think you should post your pictures. Maybe if more people knew about the mammoths, they’d understand why we need
them. Did you know that protecting the permafrost is the single most important thing we can do to prevent climate change from destroying our planet? And bringing back mammoths is the natural way to preserve . . .”
CHAPTER 42
It’s always wise to have a backup plan
At the Anchorage FBI office, the Bureau’s interviewer paged through an ominously thick file. “Oh, your girlfriend’s North Korean, all right, but we always knew that.”
Henri Anjou felt naked, facing official questions in a black turtleneck without his white lab coat to lend him authority. His lawyer, a young woman who wore way too much makeup and jewelry, had coached him on cooperating. Answer honestly, don’t volunteer information, and don’t say anything stupid. She sat beside him in a barren interview room, tapping fingers on the bare table. As if he were a common felon about to be thrown into jail.
The FBI man—middle-aged and hard-eyed—ran a pudgy finger down a dense paragraph. “According to our brothers in the CIA, Ji-Young Kim came to Seoul on the refugee trail via China, Laos, and Thailand, at the age of twenty-three.”
Anjou looked up. “Ginger told me she’d been smuggled into South Korea as a small child.”
The FBI agent snorted. “Hardly. She already had a degree in microbiology and had done a hitch in the North’s intelligence service. They eased her way into South Korea as a sleeper agent with a mission to pick up all the high-tech intel she could. She proved so good at it that the North Koreans needed Russian help to figure out what they were getting. From then on, she’s been more or less on permanent loan to the Russians. They sent her to the US on a student visa. At that point, immigration knew she was North Korean but didn’t have any particular reason to doubt her story about being a poor refugee looking for freedom. Once she was in the US, she stretched out grad school as long as she could, taking research assistantships with a variety of professors in high-tech fields. We’re still tracing them all, but it seems likely she picked up a good bit of information along the way about proprietary technology and processes.”