by Alex Archer
The gunman shifted in his chair. "I told you this would be a problem."
David shook his head. "You're wrong. It's containable. Just let me handle it, okay?"
"Sure, sure." The man started picking his teeth with a small toothpick Annja hadn't noticed earlier.
David took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. "Annja, you've sort of stumbled onto something here that I wish you hadn't."
"What have we stumbled onto?" Jenny asked, suddenly appearing behind Annja in the doorway.
David shrugged. "These men are not what they seem."
"They're not nasty pieces of work?" Annja said. "Could have fooled me."
The men didn't even bristle from the insult. Annja frowned. Something had changed about the gunman's demeanor. The look of a redneck seemed to be slowly peeling away. Something far more sinister replaced it.
David turned to Jenny. "I asked you out here for a reason."
"What was that?" she asked.
"Your expertise. I did find something that I wanted you to take a look at. Something I think proves the existence of the Sasquatch."
"Well, where is it?"
"We have it," the gunman said.
"And why on earth would you have it?" Annja asked.
The man stared at David and then at Annja. "Because the government happens to be interested in it," he said coldly.
Annja chewed her lip. That's why he seems so different. He works for the Feds, she thought. She had interacted with enough government agents to recognize one when she saw one. This guy definitely fit the bill. Albeit in a scummy way.
"What agency do you work for?" she asked.
He shook his head. "You don't need to know that."
Annja pointed at David. "I take it they showed you some identification?"
"Of course they did. I don't just take people at their word, you know," the sheriff stated angrily.
"Naturally." Annja looked behind her at Jenny. "Nice to see what we've gotten mixed up in, huh?"
Annja looked back at the Fed. "So what are you doing here, Agent…?"
"Simpson. You can call me Simpson. This is Baker." The silent man sitting next to him inclined his head only vaguely in their direction.
Annja groaned. "What was wrong with the names Smith and Jones, were they already being used?" She took a moment to calm her anger. "So some government operatives wander up here into the dense forests of Oregon because a local sheriff finds something that he thinks proves the existence of big foot. Is that what you're trying to tell me?"
"So far, so good," Simpson said. "Oh, and Jones had to head back to D.C."
"Which means the suits back in Washington must think there's something to this stuff if they sent you guys."
Simpson only smiled.
"Either that," Annja said, "or you two are buffoons and they wanted you out of their hair for a good long time. Something I can actually see happening on a fairly frequent basis."
Simpson's jaw tightened. "You might remember that we have jurisdiction in this area, Ms. Creed."
"How do you know my name?"
Simpson smirked. "We know all about you. And the e-mail Ms. Chu sent to you. We've known everything about this trip since you started making arrangements to come here. It's one way we stay on top of things so we don't have…surprises."
"Must be that good ol' Patriot Act in action again, huh?"
Simpson put his hand over his heart. "The safety and security of our great nation is our highest priority."
Before Annja could retort, David cleared his throat. "They don't actually have jurisdiction over my command, just over the forests for right now. And unfortunately I have to yield to their federal powers. I don't necessarily like it, but I play by the rules."
"Or else what?" Annja asked. "You don't get federal funds for some road repair project?"
Simpson smiled. "Or this little piece of paradise might just be in the way of a brand-new interstate and that old eminent domain clause might mean its very downfall."
"You wouldn't," Annja said.
Simpson shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time. Believe me when I tell you that Uncle Sam does not take kindly to people who get in his way where matters of national security are involved."
"National security?" Jenny shook her head. "How in the world could this have anything to do with national security?"
Baker cleared his throat and spoke for the first time. "When we hear reports about the possibility of a giant ape-man wandering the forests of our country, able to travel from here to Canada and back without ever so much as attracting the attention of any of our border patrols, or tripping any of the rather elaborate monitoring systems currently deployed in this sector, we get a little nervous."
Annja rolled her eyes. "After all, if a giant missing-link creature can do it, what's to stop an al Qaeda operative from doing the same."
"Exactly," Baker said without a hint of humor.
Annja shook her head. "So which one of you dolts dreamed up that ludicrous scenario?"
"It's not ludicrous," Simpson said. "It's a very real concern to those in power back in Washington."
"I can't believe the President would fall for such a stupid line of thinking as that," Annja said. "I don't see it."
"And since when do you believe that the White House has any real power in such matters?" Simpson said.
Annja frowned. "Since my naiveté hasn't yet been shattered by the hammer of some black-book operative like yourself."
Simpson chuckled. "Well put. But, unfortunately, there are other people who wield much more power and they've decided that it's time to lay this matter to rest. That's why we're here."
"By doing what?" Annja asked.
"Yeah," Jenny said. "Are you guys going to interview the Sasquatch and ask him how he does it?"
Annja smiled. "That'd be a sight."
Simpson stood and Baker followed. "You're not far off the mark, ladies." Simpson nodded at David. "We'll be in touch."
Annja stopped him at the door. "What exactly do you mean by that—not far off?"
"Very simply," Simpson said, "we're here to capture the ape."
Chapter 19
Annja burst out laughing. "Capture it? You think there haven't been other intrepid adventurers over the years who thought they'd try the same exact thing? You guys are crazy!"
Simpson shrugged. "I don't care one bit what other people might have attempted in the past. What matters is that Baker and I will succeed this time around. Failure simply isn't an option for us."
Baker nodded. "He's right. We don't expect to fail."
Jenny sighed. "Can we just agree not to call this an ape? The Sasquatch may be just as far removed from the primate family as we are."
Simpson rolled his eyes. "He's tall and hairy. Looks like an ape to me and that's what I'll call him. The exact genus of the creature isn't for us to figure out. I'm here for one thing only."
"So you're a hired hand," Annja said. "Just a mercenary, in effect."
Simpson smirked. "I enjoy your feeble attempts at baiting me, Annja. Truly, I do. But in this case, there's only one thing you need to remember."
"And what's that?"
"If you get in my way, I have the authority to use deadly force."
"Whose authority?"
Simpson smiled. "The only one that counts—Washington's."
Annja glanced at David. "You're going to put up with this without a fight?"
David shrugged. "Not a whole lot I can do, Annja. I can file an appeal that my jurisdiction shouldn't be undermined, but who would listen? And in the post-9/11 world, my chances of superceding Simpson's command are slim to none."
Annja felt the heat rising in her face. Something about Simpson's demeanor really irked her, but she knew David was right. As long as Simpson had Washington power backing him, he was untouchable.
Simpson offered a hand to David. "Well, we have to get going. Good seeing you again, sheriff. I'll be in touch if we need your assistance with anything…s
uch as annoying saboteurs or the like." He turned to Annja. "Remember what I said."
Annja eyed him. "How could I possibly forget? There's yet another untouchable scumbag from Washington prowling the woods, hoping to disrupt a delicate ecosystem all for the sake of someone's paranoia."
Baker moved past Annja. "He's really not all that bad," he said.
Annja raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding, right? He's a complete jackass."
Baker grinned. "Guess that makes me the jackass in tow, huh?"
Annja frowned. "You said it, not me."
Jenny stopped him. "You can't imagine it's going to be easy capturing the Sasquatch, do you?"
Baker shrugged. "That's the directive. We do what we're told. It wasn't exactly open to discussion back in D.C., if you get my meaning."
Annja glanced over her shoulder as Simpson slid on his jacket. "By the way, I saw a sample of your work last night," she said bitterly.
Simpson stopped. "What are you talking about?"
"The wolf you shot. His name was Cheehawk. That poor animal struggled to find its way back to friends before it finally died."
Simpson shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about. Baker, we've got to get going."
"You know it was in agony the entire time it limped back to us? And yet somehow it managed to get to people who loved and respected it. You've got to admire that kind of resolve even in the face of blatant cowardice."
Simpson's face turned red. "As I said before, I don't know what you're talking about. No one in my command shot a wolf last night. And they wouldn't be permitted to unless their life was in immediate danger."
"I'll bet."
David stood. "I hope I don't have to send you packing for doing anything excessive like that, Simpson. Because if I find out you were responsible for the death of that animal, I will kick you out of my jurisdiction and risk the wrath your superiors can heave down on me. But before that, I'll call every media outlet around and let them know exactly what's going on."
Simpson walked toward the outside door. "Need I remind you that this is a national security issue? You could go to jail for talking to anyone from the media."
Annja smiled. "Touchy, touchy. Guess Washington wouldn't be too crazy about the masses knowing they wasted taxpayer dollars hunting down big foot because of border-security issues."
"Everyone is barred from talking about it," Simpson said. "And I can have the state police and FBI here in a few hours to haul you all off to jail if I feel like it."
Jenny frowned. "Have fun hunting down your ape, you big idiot."
Simpson backed out of the office and Annja watched as he and Baker left, slamming the front door behind them. In seconds, she heard the motor of a truck turn over and then they were gone.
She looked back at David who only held up his hands. "Annja, I don't know what to tell you. There's not a damn thing I can do. He's got the right paperwork, and he's got the identification that proves he is who he says he is. I've got a phone call into the number on the paperwork, but I fully expect that everything will check out. There's really nothing more I can do."
"He killed Cheehawk. You know that."
David sighed. "Yeah, probably he did. But what do you want me to do about it? Even if I dig up Cheehawk's body and send it to a lab to run a ballistics report on the slug, that would take too long and cost the town too much. Plus, it would dishonor the grave site. And I don't think our friend Creeping Wolf would like that very much."
"Speaking of him," Annja said. "I wonder where he is. We haven't seen him for a few hours."
"You won't, either," David said. "He can disappear at will and stay hidden for days. He's exactly like his namesake. His grandfather taught him the kind of secrets that people never knew existed. If he wants to cause havoc for Simpson and Baker and anyone else they have out there, he knows how to do it. I almost feel sorry for them. Almost."
"I don't," Annja said. "Simpson's the worst kind of government bureaucrat. He's little more than a psychopath."
"Well, right now, he's a psychopath with the proper paperwork, so I can't arrest him. Much as I'd like to."
Jenny crossed her arms and sat down on the bench outside David's office. "So what was this thing you wanted to show me? You know, the only reason you dragged me out here in the first place before getting mixed up with all this government nonsense."
David glanced at Annja. But she only shrugged. "I'll let you two handle this. I'm getting some coffee."
David sat down next to Jenny and started talking to her in hushed tones. Annja took a final glimpse at them and then turned to Ellen. "Somehow I think this needs to play out without any involvement from me."
Ellen cocked her head and peered around Annja. "Looks that way."
"There anyplace around here to get some breakfast?"
Ellen nodded. "End of the street. Milton's Hotel has a little café on the first floor. Tell Sheila I sent you and she'll do up a breakfast like you've never had before."
Annja smiled. "That sounds perfect. They have hot water in the rooms?"
"Like maybe a shower?"
"I was thinking a hot bath to get all this grunge off me."
Ellen grinned. "You may just find heaven there."
Annja slid her coat back on. "Thanks."
Outside the police station, she looked around. A few people meandered down the street, but the population seemed scarce. Annja figured most people were working someplace else and only a few would wander into town on any given day.
In the dirt in front of the police station, she could see the deep cuts made by Simpson's truck. He was clearly angry, judging by how he'd dug up bits of gravel and sand prior to getting back on the asphalt.
What a jerk, she thought.
Annja walked down the street. A small curio shop looked dark until she pressed her face against the glass and saw a small lamp on inside. Maybe after breakfast and a bath she'd come back and see if the place had anything special. She'd lost count of how many times in the past these types of little stores had yielded something incredibly interesting in the midst of the bric-a-brac.
The hotel was at the end of the street in one of those old brick buildings that seemed to dot the majority of the Midwest. It looked a little out of place here in the Pacific Northwest, but the multistory facade was a welcome sight. It had an old hand-carved sign dangling out front, weathered from years of wind, sun and rain. But something about it felt homey and Annja pushed in the door eagerly.
A stout woman approached immediately. "Annja?"
"Yes," she said, startled.
The woman smiled. "I'm Sheila. Ellen called and said you'd be coming down. Looking for a good meal and a bath, I think?"
Annja grinned. "Could I have them both at the same time?"
Sheila laughed. "Been out in the woods, have you? I know that feeling. Tell you what. Why not go up to your room and have a soak? As soon as Ellen called, I got one of the rooms ready for you, so the tub should just be about filled."
"You're kidding."
Sheila shook her head. "Not at all. We take the comfort of our guests here very seriously." She handed Annja a key. "It's number fifteen on the third floor. You get yourself squared away, and when you come down I'll have Tom set you out a great spread."
"Tom?"
Sheila indicated over her beefy shoulder. "Husband. He works the grill in back. Not much of a front-counter man, but he can cook like no one's business. Really knows how to make you a good eat."
"Awesome."
Sheila pointed. "Up two flights, around the corner. Call me when you're coming down."
Annja started toward the steps and then stopped. "Say, Sheila?"
"Yep?"
Annja ran her hands over her clothes. "You don't, by any chance—"
"There's a robe upstairs that should do while I get your clothes washed. Just bring them down when you're coming to eat and I'll have them done for you by the end of your meal."
Annja smiled. "I can't tell you h
ow much I appreciate this."
"Got your credit card with you?"
Annja laughed. "Yes."
"All the thanks I need," Sheila said. "It's been a bit slow around here of late. Business is always appreciated."
"I'll bring it down with my dirty clothes."