He paced some more, slowly, using barely any energy. Then he lit another cigar. Halfway through the cigar the phone sounded.
“Yeah,” he answered.
“Ready?” Joseph asked.
“Any time.”
“Go park at Edmond and Lucile’s place. I’ve called and warned him to stay out of the way. No involvement whatsoever. From his place you can walk south a bit and pick a good spot. The others will find you easily and cover you.”
“About Ed,” he said. “I—”
“I threatened him,” Joseph told him, and Lars was glad to hear him laugh weakly after the words.
“How so?”
“Told him I’d take back the beagle Paul gave him if he dared to interfere.”
“Would you really?”
“Of course not. But he can’t be sure of that, can he?”
“Good call.”
“That should hold him long enough to accomplish our goals.”
“All right, I’m in the truck now.”
“All the players are up to speed and ready. Merrill is nearing Cold Springs in a silver Mercedes. Two male occupants. No tint on the glass. They should be roughly thirty minutes out now. Text me when he passes and when the tail passes.”
“Will do.”
“Make note of the car so I can pass the info on.”
“Okay.”
“When Merrill heads south again, I’ll text you before he leaves my driveway. Then the tail goes down.”
“All right.”
“My thanks, Mr. Olsen.”
“Piece of cake,” Lars said. He said it in spite of the fluttering in his stomach.
The call ended.
Lars pocketed the phone, slid into the truck and cranked it. It felt like a wave of energy had washed over him. He felt almost weightless. Time to work. Time to earn his keep. Time to get it over with so that he could rest and prepare for the next phase. He wouldn’t think of that yet. Not until the current objective had been achieved. And he felt quite sure that the old man could put together a solid plan for getting Kraft.
26
At a break in the conversation, David Wilson said he wished to go look in on the prisoner.
“Again?” Evie said.
“Why not?”
“We have guests.”
“I mean no disrespect,” he said, looking at the eagles.
They looked at one another, then at him, not knowing of the tension.
“I won’t be long,” David said, and trotted down the hill.
“What troubles him?” asked Ohan.
“It is no short story,” Matthew said.
“We have all of the day to wait,” said Mah. “Tell us, if you will.”
Between Evie and Matthew, they did their best to explain everything that had been happening in Ludlow. The neighboring cats had made a bold ambush, and it turned out, as far as Joseph Snow believed, that they had been prodded to do so by outside influence. They told of Lars and the hunters, the old details of the Merrill family hounding the Snows from times of old Europe. Times of peace. Then more times of trouble as the Merrill cult came to the Americas in search of what wealth had drawn James Snow across the Atlantic.
“It is an outrage,” said Ohan at last. “That the young wolf lost a sibling to a similar being is not justified. The remnants of that clan should be hunted and killed. At the least, they should be driven far off.”
“It is not simple,” Evie said. “The rivalry is old. It is about land. The cats could never accept that my grandfather owns so much land as a man, while also claiming the territory as a pack. It forced the cats south, closer to the human settlements. They have nowhere to go.”
“And this Merrill woman is to be condemned?” Mah asked.
“By Abel, my grandfather’s brother. He claims virtually all territory in the neighboring state as his own. Even beyond the American borders.”
“Borders mean nothing to us,” said Ohan. “But territory we understand. And we see that there is much less useful territory here.”
“But my grandfather will not move our pack,” Matthew said. “He is vested in this land. Tied to it. He refuses to give it up.”
“That is his right,” said Ohan. “But it would be better to relocate. A noble such as the Snow would be accepted in our lands. His contact with humans could be all but ended.”
“He will not give up his land to humans,” Evie said. “Ever.”
“His plight is great,” said Mah. “We see it clearer as you speak. It is good that we have come. It is good that we show solidarity for our kinds. If something may be done, we are glad to do it.”
“None of us know what to do but obey him,” Evie said.
“We will obey,” Ohan assured her. “But we will press to be given tasks. The Snow must have plans to settle his battles at last.”
***
David ran with all his strength until he caught a group of wolves on the southern trail. He walked up on an argument between Earl, Matthew and Erica’s father, and Erica. He saw Abel standing by impatiently and he saw Lester, gray and largely irritable. The argument was regarding Erica’s involvement in a raid which was to soon take place. Earl wanted her to remain safely behind. As rare as it was for Abel to yield, he seemed unwilling to interfere in the father-daughter matter. He assumed no claim over Erica other than respecting her free will to follow him as she pleased.
At last David tired of the arguing and ran ahead of them to the campsite where he had visited Lars. He took in a fresh dose of the man’s unique scent from the tent, then moved south to find the man himself. Wherever he was would surely be where the action was.
He found him south of the town borders. He followed the faint scent off the main trail, which then turned west, and continued following it till it grew stronger near the road. Maybe fifteen yards from the road, on a slight rise so that he could look down over on the road. He sat on a hunter’s cushion with his back against a wide tree, facing slightly toward the south. It appeared that he’d purposely stuck damp colorful leaves to his drab coat as a sort of camouflage. A dark baseball cap covered his forehead. The man was scruffy in the daylight. Unshaven for many days. He looked as serious as a heart attack with his rifle across his lap. No grinning or nodding to say hello.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
27
He had just made himself comfortable when he heard heavy steps from the shadows of the trees. Scanning, he first saw the outline of a wolf passing between trunks. Then it came closer and he saw it clearly and recognized which wolf it was. He felt proud for being able to identify a few of them now. David was not black but not gray either. In the daylight he had traces of brown here and there.
Though it was pointless, out of habit he asked David what he was doing there. He had been expecting to see the big black one and perhaps Lester and Paul, who would be covering him. Joseph had mentioned his sons but said nothing about David.
The wolf crouched down, and in a second it was David kneeling by a tree about ten yards away.
“I’m not missing this,” he answered. “That’s what I’m doing here.”
“Don’t blow this for me,” Lars said.
“I won’t. Tell me the plan.”
“Observation for now. Relaying info.”
“And then?”
He went on to explain as quickly as possible to David about Raymond Merrill and Brandon Kraft and how Kraft would be after the cases once in Merrill’s possession. He set out his exact mission and the role Joseph had determined the wolves to play in apprehending the men from the tailing car. One kept alive, if possible. After that, his part was over for the time being.
“I can’t chat,” Lars concluded. “Need to keep track of the vehicles as they pass and text the old man.”
“Gotcha,” David said, and he was a wolf again, resting patiently on his belly.
Within a few minutes Lars noticed the wolf react to a sound. He faced north for a second. After a few more seconds Lars could a
lso hear the vehicle. He watched for it. It was a minivan. Through his scope the occupants appeared to be a family. He guessed they were leaving the big hotel. Not worth noting.
Soon after that he heard heavy steps in the forest. More wolves. None of them trying to be quiet until they slowed upon nearing him. They were both big and gray, one larger than the other. The smaller one was slightly larger than David. He was looking at brothers Earl and Lester, but assumed the smaller one to be Paul. Those two seemed to be connected at the hip.
Everyone settled down and all was quiet. Lars counted six minutes passing according to his phone. At that point the wolves reacted to something as they lay facing him. He saw their ears twitching and one after another they indicated to the south.
Turning only his head, Lars watched for the vehicle coming from the south. He heard it now distinctly. The hum of the tires on the pavement made him think of a truck. Then the sound of a low grumble struck him as a newer v-8 with solid exhaust. Then it came into view and he saw it as the scattered sun filtering through the trees glinted on its paint and glass. Sure enough it was a pickup. A quick look through his scope showed a single driver. No one familiar.
He lowered the rifle and resumed waiting. He was pleased with his guess. The wolves were quite helpful with their exceedingly fine-tuned ears. They could beat him by several seconds, even if he held his breath. He assumed that they sensed the tire hum before him as well.
Very shortly the wolves indicated south once more. Lars watched and listened. What he heard now was quieter than a truck. Either it was a car or a minivan with quality tires. The pitch of the rubber on the road was certainly different. He watched, waiting for the first glimpse between the distant trees before looking through the scope. A few seconds passed very slowly. Then finally he saw the car. A silver Mercedes. It neared, slowing slightly as the road curved gradually around the slight peninsula he was hiding on, and through his scope he saw two males in the front seats. No one in the back. It came on past and continued north as the road straightened again after his vantage point.
Here we go.
Rather than looking south again, Lars looked straight at David. He would hear the second car first, even as he heard the sound of the first car fading in the opposite direction. The wolf indicated south with a quick sway of his head. Lars nodded his thanks and then looked, peering over the top of the scope.
The next vehicle was a dark Chrysler. Either navy or very dark gray. A big sedan. He looked through the scope as it banked through the bend in the road and he saw two males up front, one in the back. All of them large men. Not a family or late leaf peepers. These were surely Kraft’s Global men, hanging back just out of sight of the Mercedes’ mirrors.
He set his rifle across his lap as the Chrysler continued north. Lifted his phone and pecked out the information as quickly as he could. Merrill here. With tail. Navy Chrysler. Three men. He sent the message, watched for it to go through, then took a deep breath. The next time he saw that big sedan things would be a lot different.
David Wilson changed before him, instantly.
“Hey, Earl told me to tell you something. Watch where you shoot across the road. Abel is prowling around over there with Earl’s daughter.”
“Which one is Earl?” Lars asked, looking at the two grays.
One of them grumbled.
“I won’t be firing straight across into the woods,” he told the big wolf. He felt very odd talking to it that way. “I’ll be aiming down very slightly, but still, they should stay back and north a bit in case a few rounds skip off the pavement. Tell them not to get close until I’ve ceased firing.”
“He’s got it,” David said. “He says thanks.”
Lars looked at the wolf less than twenty yards away. He didn’t appear all too cheerful. He nodded to him and listened to him communicating. A reply from across the road soon followed. He felt very much out of the loop at that point.
Sitting quietly, he assumed Merrill’s car had now reached the long driveway to the big farm. He imagined it moving slowly up the driveway and wondered if Merrill would guess that his sister was sheltered alongside the grazing animals. He wondered if the guy would be upset if he knew the truth, or if he truly wanted only to save his own hide, get out of town, give Kraft the cases, and disappear.
Then the wolves drew his attention. They indicated the approach of a vehicle from the north. He watched as a car driven by a lone woman neared and slowly passed. He didn’t recognize her. He hadn’t seen her at any of the Ludlow businesses or at the farm house. She held her hand up ambiguously in passing, waving at no one but knowing that she was seen. She was the southern roadblock.
Lars relaxed, breathing deeply and slowly to keep his heart rate down. All was quiet. The wolves lay there almost as still as furry statues, only their eyes blinking and ears moving. Then he heard the faint chirp of tires squealing from half a mile south and he knew it was bad. His heart began thumping as his stomach sank.
Without looking at the wolves he raised his rifle to watch through the scope. He heard the engine revving, then saw the car itself flashing between the distant trees until it came clearly into view. It was her again, already. The roadblock. This was bad. He lowered the gun as she skidded to a stop and he stepped out where she could see him.
“Two black SUVs!” she called through the open window. “At least six or eight guys. They pointed guns at me and chased me away. I couldn’t handle them alone.”
Damn it. Kraft sent support for the tails and knew enough to keep them well south of town.
“Handguns or rifles?” Lars called back to her.
“Rifles. Machine guns. Kinda like yours.”
“Could they be cops?” he said. “Or FBI?”
“I didn’t see any badges,” she answered. “They didn’t identify themselves.”
Damn it all! Damn it all to hell and — me running.
He waved her on, saying, “Go, go. Get to town.”
She chirped the tires going north and Lars looked to the three wolves.
“Do I call the old man or do we act on our own? We haven’t got much time.”
A few seconds passed and then David was human and saying, “We’ll move down and have a look at them. You come along behind us. We’ll need cover fire to distract them so we can get close enough to strike. If it was dark, no big deal, but we’re in broad daylight here.”
Lars nodded as the two gray wolves moved off fast and quietly, dropping their feet with precision. The darker wolf remained a few yards to his right as he started pushing his way through the woods. His heart was thumping and he was beginning to sweat despite the crisp air. He was watching ahead while trying to keep track of his feet. The last thing he needed was to trip or twist an ankle.
Could the SUVs be FBI? He wondered. Could they be watching Merrill after the two fires? I’ll have to get a good look at them before taking a shot. We’re better off to cut bait and run if it’s the FBI. Killing one of them will bring hundreds more within hours. Maybe it’s just Kraft’s guys. An insurance plan on the insurance plan. Either way, whoever they are, it’s bad for me.
He pushed on steadily until he saw the gray wolves up ahead. Then he slowed, working to keep quiet. Inching past the wolves, he peered out from behind a fat oak tree at the SUVs and the men milling about them. The vehicles were parked back-to-back on the shoulder of the road. A single lookout stood up ahead of each rig. The rest of them were gathered around the open lift gates. Strapping on body armor and double-checking their firearms. He could faintly hear at least one of the SUVs idling. He heard voices. Not loud but not whispers. They couldn’t hear him or the wolves.
***
Joseph Snow stood on his porch with his arms crossed. He watched the silver Mercedes halt near the garage, across the driveway from the front door of the big farmhouse. His wife, daughter and son, Paul, stood around him. All were mildly nervous but confident. The driver’s door opened. A tall man stepped out. Then all four Snow’s reacted simultaneously.
The man wasn’t human. He was a cat.
Raymond Merrill stepped from the passenger side. At first he didn’t realize that Jason was pressing his back against the car, reacting to a sensation of threat which he did not fully comprehend. Then Merrill saw the four figures on the porch, tense and rigid at first. Then one of them began to suffer some sort of panic attack.
Janie Snow had held her deepest nature in check for nearly two decades. She shrugged off stress better than most of her family, keeping herself always under firm control. Her thoughts and emotions were trained by her conscious will to obey, regardless of the situation. She had been prepared for a potentially tense exchange when Merrill arrived. But she had not been prepared for a potentially dangerous rival to be standing twenty yards from her. Staring nervously with inhuman eyes.
Like a dam finally giving way to years of mounting pressure, Janie felt her deepest instinct at last overpowering her conscious will. Her big brother was trying to force her back into the house, which only made her feel more frantic. Thoughts of her daughter then passed before her mind’s eye. A rushing sensation of intensity swept over her. She screamed. Her scream became a roar. And then all the world appeared changed to her eyes, sharper and clearer. Every sound and every scent intensified. An explosion of energy fueled her mistrust and anxiety. Strength of body that she’d almost forgotten about became hers again. Then she felt herself being battered, almost herded. She saw a big gray—her own mother. She was compelling her away from the house and driveway with brute force.
So after a moment of struggle, Janie Snow yielded to both her mother and her own frantic instincts compelling her to flee danger. In a second she was blitzing across the long back yard, then under the apple trees. She reached the trailhead and disappeared into the quiet sanctuary of the trees, reborn.
***
“What is the meaning of this?” Joseph Snow said. He was working hard to maintain his composure and steady his breathing. His eyes burned at Raymond Merrill and his driver.
Snow Rising (The Great North Woods Pack Book 4) Page 14