In a Fix

by Linda Grimes

  for a civilian around their camp after al. The natives are getting restless.”

  I opened my mouth to argue. Thought ahead to the likely outcome. “Okay,” I said instead. Agreeably, seeing as he was in a

  hurry.

  For some reason, that seemed to piss him off.

  “Damn it, Ciel. I mean it. If you don’t do as I say, next time I’l throw you in the locker myself, screw your claustrophobia. You

  are not going to get into the middle of this and get yourself hurt.”

  His eyes were thunderclouds behind the dark frames. I got the feeling if he removed the glasses, I’d be struck by lightning.

  “I said okay, didn’t I?”

  He stil looked totaly suspicious. Huh. Some people.

  “So what are you waiting for? Go,” he said gruffly.

  “Al right, I’m going.” After two steps, I looked back over my shoulder at him. “Um, which way?”

  “The way we just came,” he said, not very patiently.

  I looked around. “And that would be…?”

  “Good God, you mean that, don’t you? You have no idea how we got here, do you? Weren’t you paying attention at al?”

  “Wel, I was folowing you. It got kind of twisty there at the end,” I said defensively.

  He took a deep breath and walked me over to a large evergreen. “Sit,” he said.

  I sat, settling myself comfortably on a blanket of rusty-brown pine needles.

  “Now, get out your bird book and binoculars, and start finding birds. Do not move from this spot. If a Viking approaches you,

  play dumb. Shouldn’t be tough.” The last bit was under his breath as he turned to go, but I heard it.

  He fel for that, and he thought I was dumb? Ha. We’d just see about that. I spent a few minutes doing exactly as I was told,

  sure he would double back and check on me at least once. He did; I pretended to be too intent on folowing his instructions to see

  him.

  Like hel was I going to walk meekly back to the boat and wait while the big kids played, even if I could remember the way

  back. I had a backlog of missed games in my past, the ones that were deemed by my brothers, and later Mark, to be too rough

  for me.

  Bily would always egg me on to play—at first—but then, just when the game got good, he’d gang up with the rest of the guys

  and shove me off the field.

  I’d swalowed it then, but not anymore. I was an adult, and I’d damn wel decide for myself how much danger I was wiling to

  risk, just like the rest of them. If I got into trouble, they didn’t have to folow me—it was their choice, and I refused to feel guilty

  about it.

  Once I figured Bily wouldn’t come back again I got up and headed out at a ninety-degree angle from the way he’d gone, sure

  he was too slick to head straight for the encampment. Deplorable sense of direction notwithstanding, I had a pretty good idea of

  which way to go. For one thing, the Vikings were a raucous group, and they were getting louder, working themselves up over

  something, so I just folowed the noise.

  My binoculars helped, too, once I got the hang of aiming them between the trees. The first time I got a clear view of the ship-grave site, I was astounded by the number of costumed men. More even than had been around the trebuchet—a hundred, at

  least.

  The high resolution brought their faces into sharp, close focus, giving me the eerie sensation of being right there among them.

  When my eyes landed on Per’s face he was staring right at me. Startled, I dropped the binoculars. The jerk of the leather strap on

  my neck snapped some sense back into me—he couldn’t possibly see me from this distance.

  I lifted the field glasses again, reassuring myself the characteristic sneer warping his grotesquely handsome face wasn’t for me.

  His sight was trained on some other lucky bastard. I shifted slightly to see if I could make out who. Okay, there … light brown,

  sun-streaked hair, slightly too long and somewhat mussed.

  My stomach tightened. It was Trey. It looked like his hands were tied behind him, and he was flanked by giants. The side of his

  face was puffy and a thin line of blood trickled from a corner of his beautiful mouth. Mina was going to be so pissed.

  There was no way Mark was going to be able to get him out without more help than Bily and Laura could provide. And it was

  stil a long time before we could expect any backup from Swedish security.

  “Är du borta?” a pleasantly male Swedish voice rumbled behind me.

  I jumped, and dropped my binoculars, the strap jerking my neck downward yet again. Plastering a big, touristy smile on my

  face, I turned around. Though decked out in the proper gear, he wasn’t especialy tal for a Viking, nor excessively bulky. Must

  not have drunk the Kool-Aid yet. Palms up, I gestured my puzzlement. “I’m afraid I don’t speak Swedish. Do you speak

  English?”

  He smiled. “Of course. It is necessary in today’s world, ja? Al Swedes must know some English.”

  I feigned relief. “I’m so glad. Maybe you can help me—I seem to be a little lost.”

  “I thought this. It is what I asked you when I approached.” He seemed pleased with himself.

  “I sailed here with some friends,” I started. Best to stick to the truth as much as possible. Made things less complicated. Of

  course, the truth would only carry you so far. “To watch birds. We, um, split up to cover more territory, and get more pictures of,

  uh, birds.” I smiled feebly.

  His eyes lit up. “Ah, you are adding to your life list? Vad bra! This is good. What have you seen today?”

  The smile froze on my face. A bird-watching neo-Viking? Shit. I tried to remember the bird Bily had mentioned. What the hel

  was it? Oh, yeah. “Riddy’s Warbler?” I said, praying it was close enough.

  He paused while I held my breath, then said, “Ja, ja, this is good. A happy little felow, this warbler. Have you seen also the

  Columba palumbus?”

  What the hel was that? Better claim not. “Not today. So hard to spot sometimes, aren’t they?”

  He laughed in agreement, but his eyes narrowed on me. “Come,” he said, taking my hand enthusiasticaly. “I shal show you

  some. I know where there is a huge nest of them.”

  I tried to stay where I was. “Hey, wait. I can’t leave here—my friends might miss me.”

  “I wil bring you back later. They wil understand—what birder would miss a rare opportunity to see the Columba palumbus?”

  He puled me along, leaving me no time to ponder the touch of irony I thought I’d detected in his voice.

  He brought me to a huge nest, al right. A huge nest of Vikings. Never letting go of my hand for an instant, he marched me up to

  a large group of men miling around near the standing stones of the ship-grave. At the center of the men, with a remarkable shiner,

  was Nils.

  “Hej, Nils,” my bird guide said, folowed by more Swedish. I looked at my shoes, wiling myself to evaporate. Like most of my

  wishes, it didn’t happen. But, I comforted myself, at least it wasn’t Per.

  “Vad har vi här?” Nils said, which I took to mean something like “what’s this?” He walked over to me and raised my head

  with two fingers under my chin, the familiar half-smile lifting one corner of his mouth … until recognition filed his eyes, and his

  detached control was replaced with shock.

  Chapter 27

  “She cals herself a birder, and she doesn’t recognize the scientific name for a wood pigeon. She must be a spy,” my birding

  buddy gloated. In English, so I’d be sure to realize just how stupid I’d been.

  Wel, damn. I’d walked right into that one.

  “Thank
you, Johan. I wil take care of this,” Nils said, never losing his authority.

  My hand was transferred to his, and I felt two smal squeezes. I thought I saw relief, and maybe happiness, in his eyes, but my

  track record with men being what it was recently, I tried not to let myself get too excited about it.

  “Come with me, miss. We wil have a talk.” His words dripped double meaning, and the men around us laughed knowingly.

  He led me through the woods beyond the ship setting, sticking to the side opposite from where I’d seen Per with Trey. Again, I

  had to move double-time to keep up with his long stride, and again he didn’t seem inclined to speak to me until we got to

  wherever he was taking me. I didn’t press it.

  Beyond the wooded area was a road, and across the road there was a farm. The farm. The one I’d escaped from before.

  Crap. Right back into the fuckity-fucking frying pan. He made a beeline for it, not stopping until we were in a barn at the far end

  of a field.

  A double row of cows, their heads poking out between the metal bars in front of their stals, stared placidly at us while they

  munched on whatever fine grain product was laid out in front of them. Apparently it was a dairy farm. The aroma was … wel, it

  smeled like cow shit. No real graceful way to put that.

  Once the door was closed behind us, Nils grabbed me up in a huge hug, lifting me from the ground and rocking me side to side.

  “Ciel? Is it realy you? You are alive?”

  Laughter bubbled up inside me at his apparent joy. “Yes. I’m alive. But if you don’t stop squeezing me so hard, I may not be

  for long.”

  “Sorry,” he said, putting me down. “But Per said—al of the men said—you were…”

  “Launched out to sea from that giant slingshot, and left to drown? Yeah, that pretty much happened. I decided not to drown,

  though.”

  “My God, I was so angry, so sorry I couldn’t do anything—but what have you done to yourself? You dyed your hair, and your

  eyes—where are your beautiful green eyes?”

  “Oh! Wel, uh, I’m in disguise. Colored contacts. Just a second—” I leaned away from him, pretended to take out the lenses,

  and mimed flicking them into a nearby pile of straw. A quick adjustment, and my eyes were my own color again. “Better?”

  “Much. And this…” He lifted his arm and wiped my lips with his sleeve, scrubbing thoroughly to rid it of al traces of Laura’s

  makeup. “There. That is what I remember.”

  “Nils, we have to talk. You have to leave here. SÄPO is coming, they’l be here soon, and you’l be arrested with al the

  others.”

  He smiled. “SÄPO is already here. I am SÄPO.”

  My first thought was, I knew it! He is a good guy. I made myself question it, though. “But you’re with Per. You kidnapped

  Mina. You kiled Pete, for God’s sake! Or let Per do it, which is just as bad.”

  “I kiled no one. That was a tranquilizer pistol. I had to make sure I shot first, because Per’s gun had real bulets.”

  I was so relieved I felt like I could float up to the ceiling. “So Per thought you kiled Pete?”

  “Yes. With a silencer on the pistol. Fortunately, Pete fel forward, and there was no time for Per to notice a lack of bleeding.

  After that, Per had no reason to doubt my loyalty to his cause. As for kidnapping … wel, when one is undercover, one must do

  many things that are not precisely law-abiding.”

  “Okay. Right. I understand that. But Per is going to kil Trey. Soon. We can’t let that happen.” I grabbed his arm and tried to

  pul him toward the door. “Come on, let’s go.”

  He didn’t budge. “No, we must wait.”

  “What? Are you crazy? We have to go arrest Per—now, before somebody gets hurt.”

  “I wil find a way to free Trey,” he said. “But I can’t stop things right now. This has been the plan al along—we must catch

  them in the act of something very bad, or it would only be a light sentence for them. We would like to send them to prison for a

  longer time.”

  “How can you be sure Per won’t hurt Trey sooner rather than later?” I pressed.

  He put his hands on my shoulders, thumbs under my ears so I had to look up into his eyes, and spoke seriously. “Per wil not

  give up the ceremony he has planned for this evening. He believes reenacting a Viking human sacrifice wil bind the men to his

  cause.”

  “Vikings sacrificed people?”

  “Yes, it happened. Often slaves from other cultures. In Per’s mind, since Trey is American, this makes him suitable. But the

  timing of the ritual is important to him. He wil keep Trey alive until then. I wil go back soon and make sure of it. You must trust

  me on this, Ciel.”

  “Okay, okay. I believe you. You can stop tickling my neck now.”

  He stepped back and brought both his hands in front of me, holding them palms up. “I’m not tickling you.”

  The sensation continued, only now it was creepy. “Then what—Oh, shit!”

  “What? What is it?” Nils took me by the shoulders and turned me around.

  “Get it off! Get it off!” I jumped up and down, waving my arms like a madwoman.

  “Wait. Be stil … I can’t … it crawled down under your colar.”

  “Aaaack!” I yanked my shirttail out of my pants and puled the garment off in a flash, but I stil felt tiny legs. My T-shirt came off

  next. When I saw a smal, dark spot scurry across it, I flung it away from me with superhuman force. It landed behind the bars of

  the farthest stal, right in a fresh, moist pile of cow dung.

  Laughter erupted next to me. I narrowed my eyes at Nils, and most decidedly did not laugh. He composed himself.

  “It was only a tiny spider. It wouldn’t hurt you.”

  I shuddered. “Yeah, wel, I hate spiders.”

  “I never cared for them much either, but I think I like that smal felow.” There was a new glint in the big Swede’s crystaline

  eyes as I stood before him in the pretty little bra Laura had rinsed and dried for me after my unexpected swim in the sea. He

  seemed to appreciate Bily’s taste in lingerie.

  I picked up my other shirt, shaking it briskly before I slipped it back over my head. “Don’t you have a rescue to get to?”

  His sigh was ful of regret. “I suppose so. But first we must discuss what you wil do—”

  “Don’t worry, I know.”

  “What do you know?”

  “I know I should stay here while you go and do whatever you need to do. I know if Per sees me it could cause al sorts of

  problems, including more bodily harm to me.”

  He nodded his approval. “I wil come back and get you when everything is over. Now, what wil you do while I am gone? It

  may take a long while.”

  “Oh, I’l keep myself entertained somehow. I’l talk to the cows. I’l play tag with spiders. Whose farm is this, anyway?”

  “My uncle’s, but I have a smal cottage here also. Not so fine as the big house, but pleasant enough for short visits.” Huh. I

  begged to differ, but of course kept my mouth shut. “I would have taken you there, but it has become our local headquarters, and

  Per might find you.”

  Ugh. “No, no … this is fine. Realy.”

  He patted my arm, understanding, and turned to go. At the door, he paused and said, “A neighbor is looking after the cows

  while my uncle is on vacation. If you hear somebody coming, hide in the third stal on the left. She’s a nice cow, and wil try not to

  step on you.”

  *

  I waited five minutes and folowed him, figuring he was more trusting than Bily and wouldn’t come back to check on
me. I felt a

  little guilty about deceiving such a nice guy, but I realy didn’t lie to him. My exact words were, “I know I should stay here,” not “I

  wil stay here.” It wasn’t my fault if he wasn’t attuned to the nuances of English.

  I needed to find Bily and Mark, and let them know about Nils. As close as they might be to the Vikings now, I didn’t dare use

  my cel phone. I’d have to see if I could get their attention quietly. Then maybe they could communicate with Nils somehow

  before Per’s ceremony that evening, whatever the hel that was going to involve. Between al of them, maybe they would be able

  to save Trey.

  Circling the encampment as closely as I dared, which was not close at al, I looked for some sign of Bily or Mark, or even

  Laura. Maybe especialy Laura—she wasn’t as likely to jump down my throat for not doing as I was told.

  For once in this whole il-starred adventure, I got my wish. Laura dropped down right in front of me, from the branches of one

  of the taler pines, landing noiselessly on her feet.

  “Ciel? What are you doing here? Bily said he left you guarding a spot closer to the boat.”

  Guarding? Yeah, right. I laughed out loud at that one. “Thanks for trying, Laura, but I know darn wel Bily told you he sat me

  in the proverbial corner and tied me there with threats. He didn’t realy think I’d stay, did he?”

  She grinned. “He hoped, but I knew better.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Mark’s scouting for a likely candidate he can stand in for to get closer to Trey. We weren’t able to take him from the Viking’s

  impromptu prison tent—it was too heavily guarded, and besides, Per keeps hauling him out to play his sadistic little games.”

  I shuddered. “That guy is such an asshole. Where’s Bily?”

  “He should be up a tree on the other side of the camp, keeping an eye on things from there. If he’s not looking for you, that is,”

  she said with a tiny, disingenuous smile.

  I flushed a bit, but tried to laugh it off. I didn’t have time to explain things to her right now. Not that I understood any of it

  myself. “Listen, Laura, I found out something important—don’t ask me how, I’l explain it later.” Or not. “Nils—he’s the other