Yeti

by Richard Edde

  Eastwood took a deep breath, exhaled it slowly before speaking. “Don’t lie to me, Doctor, I know different. Whatever it is that you unearthed back at your diggings, I am now confiscating. And the sooner we get out of this creepy cave, the better I’m going to like it. We need to be heading back now.”

  “My assistant is in here somewhere!” Dr. Olson shouted. “I won’t leave until we find her.”

  Eastwood smiled. “Doctor, be reasonable.”

  Kurt stood alongside Eastwood and sneered at the scientist. “Please, boss, let me have a go at him.”

  “Go sit down, Kurt,” Eastwood said in a stern voice. “I’m sure the doctor can see he can’t win in this.”

  Stepan, who had been listening, stepped forward. “But, I believe we have the superior firepower. If it’s a fight you want, I doubt you’d fare very well.”

  “That remains to be seen, doesn’t it,” Eastwood said, his tone more conciliatory.

  Doyle started to speak when a woman’s scream pierced the quiet.

  “Help! Someone help!”

  Chapter 26

  Garrett Sawyers’s small office, located on the West Wing’s second floor, was an isolated affair, crowded with steel files and piled with books and reports. It was stuck inconspicuously in a corner by the elevator. He liked the quiet but cramped space, for it offered a retreat from the hectic grind below him. Across his desk in a leather chair sat Hugh Grant, one of the chief of staff’s many administrative assistants. Grant did odd jobs for the COS and, as a result was not well known among West Wing insiders, but the two men had become friends during the president’s campaign. Sawyers had called him for this meeting because he needed someone with a foot into the Oval Office.

  “Coffee?” Sawyers said.

  “Sure.”

  Sawyers rose and poured two Styrofoam cups of the liquid and handed one to Grant as he returned to his desk. “How are things downstairs?” he said.

  “The usual chaos,” Grant said, taking a sip of the coffee. “Getting close to re-election time, you know. People are starting to freak out.”

  “I can imagine. Listen, could you to deliver a message to the COS?”

  “Be happy to, Garrett, unless it’s about leaks or something.” He chuckled at the word leaks and took another sip of his coffee.

  “Nothing so onerous, Hugh. POTUS was all set to name a man named Rutherford Eastwood to head his charitable donations commission. Now it turns out the man isn’t what he seemed.”

  “Oh?” Grant said with raised eyebrows.

  “According to an FBI investigation, it appears his company, BioGen, using an unknown negotiator, tried to extort a rare prehistoric skeleton from the American Museum of Natural History in New York. Apparently happened last year. A museum curator has recently come forward with the accusation and Justice is investigating. In addition, there have been grumblings concerning a business deal with the Saudis--that BioGen extorted the money out of the Saudis by threatening to go public about one of their royal princes. So Eastwood is not as clean as we thought. Can you deliver the message?”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  “Thanks, I owe you one.”

  Grant was busy writing as Sawyers spoke. “Any evidence other than the curator’s accusation?”

  “Like I said, something about the Saudis getting a rare relic furnished by BioGen that might not be on the up and up. But the details don’t matter. He’s out, as far as the commission is concerned. The president will want to know what the investigation turned up.”

  “Anything about the man himself?”

  “Vietnam vet, built his company from nothing, has a large security detail. Rumor has it he has been stockpiling a large cache of weapons. The Bureau has turned the results of their investigation over to the attorney general’s office.”

  “I’d hate to be in his shoes with Justice on my tail.”

  “Agreed,” said Sawyers.

  ***

  Kurt was incensed. Being told off by Eastwood left him confused and angry. It was time to settle this affair once and for all, and he couldn’t understand why the boss didn’t see it that way. The solution was simple--kill the bastards, find the relics, and return home. He didn’t care about the damned beasts. Let them rot in here. Once the scientists and SWAT team were all dead, it would be an easy matter to find their way back to Ulaanbaatar and board the train to Beijing where the Hawker was waiting. A surprise attack on the SWAT team would neutralize any resistance, and the rest would be like shooting ducks in a barrel. And no one would find them in this infernal cave. It was the perfect burial place.

  He had spent most of his younger years either in reform school or behind bars. Being a member of the Hombres del diablo gang in Los Angeles had given him a toughness and indifference that made him Doyle’s most skillful assassin. In his youth, he had carried out execution orders from his gang leader and had many kills of the Crips and Bloods to his credit. No one dared venture into their territory, on pain of death.

  At age nineteen, he served five years for second-degree manslaughter for a shooting that should have been for first-degree murder, except that the DA had no evidence directly linking Kurt to the crime. So he copped a plea and did his time in a minimum-security facility in Sacramento. Once out, he put the gang life behind him, headed east, and landed in Philadelphia where he found a job in a meat processing plant. He married a girl who worked in the plant’s distribution center and thought he had things going his way, when her brother approached him with a plan for making some easy money. The plan was to rob the plant’s safe and, when the attempt went haywire, Kurt found himself on the run. He ditched his wife and her brother and took the train to New York.

  He was working as a stevedore for the Port of New York at its container terminal on Staten Island when Doyle found him, took him to his walkup apartment, and offered him a job. Liked the way Kurt handled himself, he said. Doyle encouraged him to get his GED and introduced him to Eastwood. Soon he was a member of the inner sanctum, along with Gillum and Marley.

  Sitting alone, he fingered the clip in the M-16. One spray of the gun while their backs were turned, and it would be all over. He needed to talk to Marley. If Doyle wouldn’t go along with them, maybe they would have to do it themselves.

  ***

  “That’s Dixie’s voice,” Harry exclaimed. He jumped to his feet and stared in the direction of the scream.

  “Everybody up,” Stepan said. “We’re going to find her.”

  The SWAT team rose, shouldered their weapons, and followed their captain and Harry as they hurried toward the sound. Eastwood, with his men, followed suit, with Jing and Li at the rear of the column.

  The panicked call for help came only once, a fact that disturbed Harry as they scurried back toward the waterfall. The group hurried in silence, their headlights and flashlights illuminating the path ahead. The tunnel got wider and the roar of cascading water became louder. As they turned a corner, six Yeti blocked their way.

  The grotesque creatures screeched and flashed long teeth, their red eyes blazing in the dim light. They blocked further progress, the course hair on the nape of their necks erect.

  “Shoot!” cried Stepan.

  The Yeti advanced in a rush.

  Gunfire erupted that sent the Yeti into a screaming frenzy. Blood splattered the ground and walls as two Yeti fell.

  The remaining four animals stopped in their tracks, as if stunned and contemplating their next move, and then they advanced again. Two scurried to their left, one ambled to their right, and one lunged straight at them. Blood dripped from their dark hair, their red eyes glancing side to side. Snarling and showing their fangs, they blocked the tunnel, making escape impossible.

  Another volley of gunfire sent the animals howling in obvious pain, but one lurched forward, grabbed Kurt, and snapped his neck in one fluid motion. When the creature released him, Kurt slumped motionless on the ground.

  Stepan and the SWAT team fell back, but the Yeti kept coming. More sh
ots were fired but none of the animals fell. They had fired over a hundred rounds but only two Yeti were dead. Harry’s pistol was empty.

  When the center Yeti lunged forward again, the SWAT team fired another long volley at them, the gunfire echoing throughout the cavern.

  The Yeti scurried back through the tunnel and out of sight.

  Doyle rushed to kneel at Kurt’s body. Finding no pulse, he stood and faced Eastwood. “Those bastards,” he hissed. “Kurt was a good man. Always ready to watch our backs.”

  Stepan and Harry stumbled around the dead Yeti. At the far edge of the cavern they entered a small alcove obscured by stalactites.

  Dixie, strapped by her arms to pegs in the walls, hung unconscious.

  “Get some help,” Harry cried to Stepan while he worked to free Dixie’s bindings. Stepan left while Harry lifted his assistant off the wall and gently laid her on the ground. She took short shallow gasps of air. Her face, contorted in pain, was covered with blood and sported large purple splotches. She didn’t move, but lay limp as a rag doll. Harry placed an arm behind her head and spoke to her.

  “Dixie,” he said in a faltering voice. “Dixie, can you hear me? It’s Harry.”

  Stepan returned with Doyle and Eastwood. They rushed into the alcove and peered at Dixie’s body. She was not moving, not responding to Harry’s pleadings. A few SWAT team members stood nearby, anger and confusion etched on their faces.

  Dixie moved an arm and opened her eyes. She coughed and Harry touched her face with his free hand. He looked at Stepan, then Dixie.

  “Ha--Harry?” Dixie stuttered, rubbing her head, wincing as she did. “I--is that you, Harry?”

  “It is. Feel like sitting up?”

  Dixie nodded and Harry helped her into a sitting position. She blinked at the bright light from several headlights that were focused on her. While Harry stroked her hand, she licked her lips, and tried to swallow.

  “Here’s water,” Harry said, offering his water bottle.

  The woman gulped several deep swallows then looked around with wide, dazed eyes. Doyle and Eastwood crowded next to her while Stepan gathered his men into a tight circle.

  “How did you get here?” she asked. “Who are all these people?”

  “We have been desperate to find you, Dixie. Your friends are here.”

  “Oh.” Dixie took more gulps of the water.

  “Feel like telling me what happened?” Harry brushed a wisp of hair away from her eyes.

  “I--I had to--to use the bathroom. The monster--”

  Dixie’s head fell back, eyes rolling upward.

  “Dixie?” Harry said.

  She focused her gaze upon Harry again. “The monster--grabbed me.”

  “It’s a Yeti,” Doyle said, kneeling next to Harry. “What happened then?”

  “I don’t remember. Some--somehow I got here. The thing tied me up. It hurt me, Harry.”

  With that, Dixie burst into tears and sobbed on Harry’s shoulder. It was awkward but he placed an arm around her and let her cry for a long while. Finished, she looked at him with tear-stained eyes and smiled faintly. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Jing came to Dixie’s aid and pushed the men aside.

  “Doctor, I’ll help her, please. Leave me with her for a few moments. You men leave us alone.”

  Harry nodded and watched as Dixie got slowly to her feet and was escorted by Jing to a darkened corner of the cavern.

  After they were gone, Eastwood spoke. “All right, we’ve found the girl--let’s get out of here.”

  “What about Marley?” Doyle said.

  “He knew the risks. I can’t worry about him now,” Eastwood said.

  “We can’t just leave him here,” Gillum said. “And Kurt.”

  Eastwood confronted Gillum, his face inches from the man’s nose. “Shut the hell up. Who is the boss here, anyway?”

  “Gillum’s right, Mr. Eastwood,” Doyle said, using the formal mister. “We can’t leave one of our team behind. Didn’t do it in Nam and we can’t do it here.”

  Harry watched the argument from a distance while Stepan stood with his men. Eastwood pointed his pistol at Gillum.

  “As I said, Gillum. I’m the hard case here and I call the shots. You’ll do as I say or else.”

  Gillum flinched at the pistol. “All the same, Mr. Eastwood--”

  Before he could get another word out, Eastwood pumped two rounds into Gillum’s chest. Blood engulfed the front of the man’s shirt and he fell backward without uttering a sound. Bloody froth issued from his mouth in a final gasp.

  “My God!” Doyle screamed. “Why?”

  Eastwood holstered his pistol, stepped over Gillum’s body, and pointed a finger at Doyle. “Like I said. We’re getting out of here. Now!”

  The SWAT team surrounded Eastwood, AK-12s pointed at him. Eastwood looked surprised and started for his pistol.

  “No, no, Mr. Eastwood. That’s your name, right?” Stepan ambled up to the man and removed his pistol from its holster. “You sir, are under arrest. You can’t murder someone in front of the Mongolian Police and not expect to be arrested. Sergeant, bind this man’s hands.”

  Two SWAT team members shoved Eastwood into the cavern wall and tied his hands in front of him. Li and Jing stood by Harry, eyes wide with shock.

  Doyle shook his head and looked at Stepan. “Captain, are you sure you want to do this? He might be of help later.”

  “Actually, Mr. Doyle, why don’t you hand over your weapon as well? At least for now. We would all feel better, I’m sure.”

  Doyle grumbled but did as requested then sauntered to Eastwood’s side.

  ***

  Eastwood sat in darkness, hands bound, fuming while Doyle stood next to him, not returning his stare. He was in a state of disbelief. Two of his men were dead and one was missing but he didn’t care about them in the least. They were expendable, like pawns in a chess game, given up as a sacrifice in pursuit of a larger objective. Now his security chief seemed to be waffling in his loyalty, leaving him alone to figure a way out of their current predicament.

  He struggled against his bindings but found they were tight. A SWAT member had shoved him to the ground and he sat at an odd angle, his legs aching and his feet numb.

  In the hail of gunfire, the creatures had looked as if they had been loosed from hell. He had never seen anything like them before. In spite of their hideous appearance and menacing manner, they were awesome creatures and a further thought began to slowly materialize in his haggard mind. To have a Yeti in his possession, alive or dead, would make him fabulously wealthy. It would command millions, or more, if he decided to put it on tour. If, somehow, he could pull it off.

  But Doyle was a problem that was not going away. Eastwood knew him well. If they managed to return to New York, the man would have to go. Eastwood would not tolerate disloyalty.

  ***

  “Now, everyone, listen up,” Stepan said. “We are going to get out of this infernal place, one way or the other. If those creatures attack again, we’ll fight.”

  “Li, Jing, gather your belongings along with mine,” Harry said. “I’ll help Dixie.”

  Stepan led the SWAT team into the tunnel, followed by Eastwood and Doyle, then Li and Jing, with Dixie and Harry last in line. A weakened Dixie stumbled along, Harry supporting her with an arm around her waist. The group formed a serpentine line with their lights dancing off the tunnel walls.

  Stepan and his men forged ahead while Harry’s group staggered a few meters behind. Doyle and Eastwood dawdled in the middle causing Harry to wonder if they were planning something.

  They paused at the stream to reconnoiter a way across. Harry walked downstream a few paces to where he had crossed before and signaled Stepan.

  “Give me a rope,” he said to the captain. “I’ll wade across. The rest of you can tie into the rope and follow.”

  Jing began to cry.

  “Please, Harry. Don’t make me do it. I almost drowned before.”

>   Li came to her side and hugged her. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I will hold on to you. Nothing will happen, I promise.”

  Harry tied one end of the rope around his waist and waded into the water. The freezing cold encircled his ankles and his legs but he forged ahead, progressing deeper. He waited while Jing tied herself onto the rope and entered the water, then one of the SWAT team put an arm around her waist. Li followed and came to support her other side. Harry noticed that there was a faint smile on her lips. Halfway across, at the point where Jing had previously gone under, the current picked up, the dark water pushing against his legs. But she continued without a word, leaving Harry to utter a silent prayer of thanks.

  One by one, the group’s members tied themselves onto the rope and followed Harry, Jing, and Li into the water. Dixie followed, then a few of the SWAT team members brought up the end of the line.

  It was when they were all in the water that the Yeti reappeared.

  Chapter 27

  Kesler was on the phone with Sergeant Walcott. He was in his office at Cal Pacific University when the police detective called. Kesler listened with a racing pulse as Walcott spoke.

  “The situation is this, Doctor, at least as best as I can uncover. A Mongolian SWAT team has been sent to the research site to find Dr. Olson and warn him that he and his people may be in some danger. This was done about a week ago. There has been only sporadic news from the SWAT team since leaving Ulaanbaatar. They traveled by helicopter so they should have been there days ago. That’s all I can tell you for now.”

  “No word on Dr. Olson or the rest of the team, then?”

  “Sorry, no. I do have a number for the National Police but when I tried it, all I got was someone who didn’t speak English. No way to get through to anyone who did. If anyone does speak our language there. INTERPOL is supposed to help with these language barriers and they usually do, so I’ll keep after them to provide us with an update.”