by Linda Mackay
Todd used his index finger to push the fake ranger in the shoulder. “Bet she mouthed off.”
“In her defense, his attitude was bad and his questions off.” Mac smiled at me. “Even a lowly DIA agent could tell he wasn’t a park ranger.”
“Got to be more to it than that,” Dad said.
“He wanted to know if we’d been to Lake, even after I’d told him we were coming from Hawk’s Rest.” I looked down to see Mac had gone back to searching through the guy’s pockets. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for I.D.” Todd bent down to help. “Don’t you watch any crime shows?”
“Nothing in his pockets.” Mac stood up.
“How about this.” Frank held up a radio he’d pulled from the guy’s saddle.
“What else is in the saddle pack?”
“Energy bars, water, extra ammo magazines, that’s it. Traveling incredibly light,” Frank said.
“That means he’s operating from a base camp and not planning to be out long,” Mac said.
Todd leaned in nose-to-nose with the dead body. “You never travel anywhere in the backcountry without proper gear, dumbass.”
Amanda pushed Todd away. “That’s disgusting.”
Mac looked at the guy. “Maybe. But Todd is right. If we were planning to be out only a few hours we still carried a pack with overnight gear.”
My shaking was finally slowing. “Why did you have to kill him?”
“It was you or him, and I didn’t want him to get a shot off that might hit you.”
“Why did he want to kill me?”
“He was going to kill us both. He didn’t want any witnesses.”
“But we didn’t see anything?”
“We saw him,” Mac said.
“Jorie.” Dad held my chin in his hand. “War is ugly. And sweet baby girl we have stumbled into an ugly one.”
“What do we do now, Dad?”
“Mac, you wanna take this one?” Dad asked.
“We know there’s one less bad guy.” Todd said.
Dad smacked Todd on the shoulder. “Is your name Mac?”
Mac was turning in a slow circle like he was looking for something. “What we don’t know is how many more are out there. The assassination was well orchestrated, however after the incident I’d say something went very wrong. My guess is the transportation or route they were using to escape was damaged by the quake. Now they are regrouping. We could be dealing with one more or possibly a small group of stranded assassins trying to get out of an environment they aren’t familiar with. Which is why I think they are killing anyone that is capable of later identifying them.”
“So, no food, no sleeping bag, means when he doesn’t return his buddies will come looking for him.” I said looking every direction but at the body.
“Not necessarily,” Frank said.
Mac shook his head in agreement. “When he doesn’t return tonight, I’d bet they do nothing more than a cursory look for him, maybe not even that.”
“That’s heartless,” Amanda said.
“That’s reality.” Mac’s eyes settle on a small grouping of trees. “They’ve killed a President and God only knows how many other innocent people to accomplish their goal. Trust me, they aren’t worried about saving anyone’s ass but their own right now.”
Frank followed Mac’s line of sight. “Looks like as good a place as any.”
“What are we doing?”
Todd held the horse steady as they lifted the body over the saddle. “We’re hiding the body.”
Mac shook his head at Todd. “We’re not hiding the body.”
“Well, kinda,” Frank smiled. “We’re gonna raise it in the trees like we do our food bags to hopefully keep bears away from it.”
“Holy shit! We’re all going to jail,” I said.
“We’re not going to jail,” Mac said. “We’re preserving evidence so the Feds can identify what is more than likely one of the killers.”
I finally took a long look at the fake ranger who wanted to kill me. “I don’t mean to be prejudice, but I guess I was sort of expecting him to look like a foreign terrorist, instead he looks like an all-American young man who recently graduated from one of the best universities in the country.”
“Other than the fact he could use a shower, Jorie’s right,” Amanda said.
“He’s actually very fine looking,” Todd said.
“If you check his ass out, I’m punching you in the nose.” Amanda started walking back to the cave. “I need a massage and a pedicure.”
I needed a hot tub and a hot dog. I’d even eat one of Grandpa Nus’s famously awful foot-long hotdogs with grape jelly and peanuts on top and not complain, if I could just go home. Smart people would saddle up and ride as fast as they could to safety and the authorities. Not us! We hide a body and then plan to keep moving into dangerous territory so my dad can prove his theory.
Instead of leaving the investigation for the Secret Service to handle, we were at the mercy of a former spy with the Defense Intelligence Agency. An agency I’d never heard of and still wasn’t convinced existed. I watched Frank, the former marine turned cowboy, and my dad, the old-school geologist, working diligently with Special Forces on their plan. I sat down by the fire in the cave and looked at Todd and Amanda playing pick up stick with twigs. With the Wonder Twins as sidekicks, how can we possibly fail?
I rolled onto to my side and put my head on the dirt floor. Dear God, we were flipping delusional.
Chapter 11
What you’re telling me is hydrothermal vents are basically bombs waiting to explode?”
Mac was doing his best to understand Dad. It wasn’t easy since he spoke university professor English when explaining science. He never got the hang of explaining his theories in a language most people could understand. Growing up listening to him was like attending a school lecture. I had to give points to Special Forces since his eyes weren’t glazed over like he was listening to a foreign language.
Simplifying it for him seemed to be a good idea. “The pressure in the vents isn’t just building up from the heat of the magma below. Inside the vents the volatile gases carbon dioxide and hydrogen sulfide also drive them. The sulfide is flammable and explosive, and the CO2 helps provide the pressure release.”
“Like an air pistol uses CO2 to propel the pellet,” Mac said.
“Exactly. Dad has believed CO2 was a major contributor for decades, but the scientific community didn’t jump on board until recently.”
“We’re talking about the same greenhouse gases that environmentalists are fighting against?”
Todd laughed, “Yep, except one tiny burp from a single volcano can produce more CO2 than the total of all human-made CO2 for an entire year. Now add in there are approximately 1500 active volcanoes and the gas-math is astronomical.”
“Holy crap. Maybe the world should be more concerned with trying to plug up all the volcanoes,” Mac said.
“That’s almost as silly as the study done on how to make cow’s fart less to reduce methane in the air.”
Mac pulled Amanda’s ponytail. “You expect me to believe that?”
“It’s true,” Todd said.
“What’s next? Ban humans from eating spicy food?”
“Hush your mouth, Mac.” Amanda took the ribbon off her ponytail and tied it to her wrist. “I can’t survive without Todd’s spicy cooking.”
I swatted a mosquito on my neck and chose to ignore their ridiculous conversation. “Also in that group of gaseous offenders is every geyser, fumarole and hydrothermal vent on the planet. Not to mention the giga-tons that pour out of the ocean floor. However, this isn’t an environmental or political argument over natural CO2 versus human greenhouse gases. It’s about the power of the natural volatile gases, and if their vents are closed not allowing the gas to escape, could that help create a larger explosion.”
Dad walked around the fire refilling our coffee mugs. “While technically the physics worked. I suspect it did
n’t work exactly the way they hoped.”
“They definitely weren’t concerned about collateral damage,” Frank said.
“What bothers me is the plan had to include scientists providing formulas for this to work at all,” Dad said.
“Scientists who know Yellowstone and the details of specific hydrothermal vents.” Todd added sipping his coffee.
“We agree this plan took a lot of time, and a lot of people to execute. It’s also possible those scientists had no idea what the science they were providing was being used for,” Mac said. “Which makes me more nervous than a quick in and out plot involving one or two people.”
“I thought independent terrorists were harder to detect both before and after an incident,” I said.
“As a profile, it’s true it can be much harder to catch a lone gunman than a group. More people, more trails to follow. However, the sophistication of this plan required a lot of intellectual brainpower and a lot of access to very specific information. That means there were a lot of trails covered before the bomb exploded. To do that, it had to involve some very high-placed people. Add that to the fact the fake ranger was homegrown and I’m going to make a leap on this being an internal plot not a foreign terrorist plot.”
“No freaking way!” Todd said.
“I also conclude we need to head home and out of the danger zone, leaving the investigation to professionals.”
“Whoa there son.” Dad put his hand on his hips and leaned forward. He was cranking up and I wasn’t getting in the middle. I slid my butt further away from the group sitting around the fire. Todd and Amanda were moving with me.
“Son, you’re the Fed with the most information.” Dad pointed his finger at Mac. “With my help, in 24 hours, you can be in possession of the facts. A lot of innocent people died in this attack and they deserve the truth be discovered.”
Mac stared down Dad as we continued moving to the back of the cave. “Okay. But the Three Stooges go home.”
“Deal.” What the heck just happened? My father, the King of Volatility, didn’t even raise his voice.
“Oh no! I’m not going anywhere without my Dad.” Did that just come out of my chicken shit mouth?
“Sugar, take those two and go home. Keep them safe.”
“Hell no!” Todd stood up and stomped back to the fire. “Either we all go or no one goes.”
“I’m with Todd,” Amanda said. “If nothing else, with all of us along we look more like tourists.”
“And less like a government spook forced to rely on two old farts as back-up,” I added. Stay? Go? We changed our minds more than a baby gets his diaper changed.
“That’s enough from everyone.” Frank finally spoke up. “We’re all staying together, and we’re going to the bay.”
Silence.
I’m not sure how long we stood not speaking, staring at each other. No one wanted to be the first to back down. Finally, Mac turned and walked out of the cave, picking up his saddle on the way out. I took a deep breath.
“Think he’s leavin’?” Amanda asked.
“Fer now,” Todd said.
“Comin’ back?”
“Cain’t say.”
“Stop talking like you’re in a bad western.” Remind me to travel with gags next time I’m out with Butch and Sundance.
I sat on a rock outcrop and watched Mac slowly riding around the lush grasses now devoid of snow. He’d been gone for hours. Even I started to wonder if he planned on returning. I watched as he rode Chimayo. I mean really watched how he sat my beautiful lady; his back straight, one hand on the reins, guiding her in and out of deadfall with a barely perceptible move of his hands. He was an experienced rider. Once again, my desire to not have anyone breach my life in any way had kept me from seeing it.
His ease with her spoke of a lifetime of riding. He was at home on her back, and she accepted him. Together they looked like long-time lovers. Every move coordinated, every touch, a touch of love.
Freaking banana fart! I was losing it. Love and home my flabby ass. He could ride. And I’d missed it.
What else had I missed?
I needed to start observing and taking notes like he was a project I was assigned to.
“If I was a sniper, you’d be dead,” Mac said.
“If I was a voodoo priestess, you’d be a mosquito.”
“Then I’d land on you and suck your sweet nectar.”
“And I’d smush your ass.”
“You can smush my ass anytime sweetheart.”
“Stop.” No don’t stop. The tingling in my woohoo feels so good. “Where you been?”
“The last time someone asked me that they got shot.”
I was observing how charming Mac could be. “Missed your sorry face.”
“That’s better. Missed yours too.” His eyes were glimmering. That’s ridiculous; no one’s eyes glimmer. I think I’ll leave that one out of my notes.
“See anything interesting?” I asked.
“Enough to know if I wasn’t familiar with this terrain, and my ride out wasn’t here…I’d be very worried.”
“As a novice, what would you do?”
“If I had a map I might try to escape going off-trail. Or I’d try to find a way to blend in and walk out on-trail like I belonged there,” Mac said.
“Going off-trail could be a death sentence, so I take it you’d steal a ranger’s clothes and horse and ride out?”
“It wasn’t a bad plan.”
“Then why go all Rambo and try to kill us.” Still made me shiver just saying it out loud. “Killing every person you encounter on the way out was going to leave a long trail of dead bodies to follow.”
“Like leaving bread crumbs,” Mac said.
“That’s one way to look at it.” I was beginning to see the cold thinking of a Defense Intelligence Agent: thinking that didn’t have room for connecting on a personal level.
“What I think is, he was following Joe.”
Okay, so the spy mentality may come in handy. “Wow, that would mean…”
“It means we’re being hunted.” Frank said from behind me.
“You guys have got to stop sneaking up on me.”
“Someone saw Joe leave the area,” Mac said.
“Follow and assess,” Frank added.
“Don’t engage. Report.”
“Follow orders or go rogue?”
“Hey Starsky and Hutch!” I was getting a headache. “Huggy Bear needs a translation.”
“Joe was more than likely seen leaving the area after the explosion. He was followed to see where he was going,” Mac said.
Frank scratched his arm. “They also needed to know if he’d talked to anyone about what, if anything, he saw.”
“When the guy saw Joe meet up with us, either he received orders to eliminate the supposed threat or he decided on his own to take action.” Mac started walking Chimayo toward the cave entrance. “Either way, we need to move out immediately.”
“Stop throwing my make-up in the pack!” Amanda pushed Todd out of the way and rolled her eye shadow in a t-shirt and blush in a sock.
“Princess we’re leaving in five minutes with or without you.” Todd yelled back into the cave where Amanda was the only one left packing her gear.
“How long is this going to take?” Mac asked from the saddle.
“Could be ten minutes, could be thirty.” Eager to move out, Arikira was stomping her hooves.
“We can’t wait that long.” Mac got off Chimayo and disappeared into the cave.
A minute later Amanda stomped out of the cave, with Mac pushing her from behind. “The Geneva Convention requires prisoners be treated better than this.”
“If you actually read it, it states anyone holding up the escape of others can be shot without repercussions,” Todd said.
“Does not!”
“Does to!”
Dad had enough. “Amanda, get on your horse and be quiet.”
“That’s….”
“
Tie her horse to the tree. Then we ride,” Dad said.
“Screw you all.” Amanda got on her horse and fell in line behind Todd.
Mac reined Chimayo next to me. “Would Joe really have left her?”
“He’s done it before.”
“Interesting thought process.”
“Once Dad took Todd’s boots so he would quit getting off his horse.”
“How did he get his boots off?”
“Dad pushed him off the log he was leaning over looking for greens to have in a salad at camp that night.”
“Still doesn’t explain the loss of boots.”
“I sat on him while Dad took off his boots.”
Mac laughed the deep, calming laugh that made it easy to forget the trouble we were riding into.
“What are you laughing at?” Todd asked.
“Jorie is telling me about the time Joe stole your boots.”
“It’s not my fault, I was constipated and kept thinking I needed to go.”
“Yeah, but you never did,” I added. “And I didn’t tell him that part.”
“Well, shit.”
“If you’d shit we wouldn’t have been stuck camping in an open area during a blizzard,” Dad said.
“Jorie didn’t tell me that either,” Mac said.
“If you’re all done reminiscing will someone please tell me why we bugged out so fast?” Four pairs of eyes looked everywhere but at Amanda.
“You’re all a bunch of yellow-bellies,” Frank said. “Look sweetie, we think some bad men have been following Joe and they’re probably looking for us now.”
“Because Mac offed their buddy?” Amanda asked.
“No, because they think Joe saw them kill the President.”
Todd grinned at Amanda. “And now they want to kill us too, so we’ve got to go all commando.”
“Oh no!” Amanda turned her horse around. “I don’t look good in blood red, I’m out of here.”
Amanda kicked her horse and they took off faster than was safe on the rocky terrain. “She kills my horse I’ll be the one turning her outfit red,” Frank said.
Mac and Chimayo were already even with her. He reached out and pulled Amanda off her horse kicking and screaming, dumped her across his lap, then swatted her butt.