Yeti

by Richard Edde

  “Another opinion?” Eastwood snorted. “We have a tent full of experts.”

  Doyle grunted and made a show of his pistol. “All right, all right,” he said. “Let’s stop with all the philosophical chatter. It’s time we get out of here. You, there.” He brandished the pistol at Li. “Go fire up one of those jeeps and bring it here. Leave it running.”

  Li stood, implacable.

  “Move,” Doyle shouted.

  Li looked at Harry who nodded an assent. Li dashed out of the tent. Harry did not like the way things were shaping up, for it looked as if Eastwood was going to get away, after all. His anger boiled to the surface and he glared at Doyle. Am I going to stand idly by and allow them to steal what it took months of hard work to uncover? But what to do? It appeared they were going to be able to walk right out with the bones.

  Harry heard a jeep start up and begin its journey toward the tent. Once, in the vehicle Eastwood and Doyle would be hard to stop. Stepan would have to notify his superior and hope the National Police could find them before they escaped the country.

  Eastwood closed the bone box and waited as the jeep neared the tent. Doyle muscled the woman toward the tent doorway. The whine of the jeep grew louder and then it appeared at the tent’s door. Li tumbled out, leaving the motor running.

  Doyle pushed the woman toward it. “Get in there,” he said.

  In the instant that Doyle turned his back on him, Harry reacted. Throwing himself into the man, he knocked him to the ground, forcing him to release his grip on the frightened woman.

  She dashed out of the tent, screaming.

  Doyle spun around and aimed his pistol.

  A shot pierced the quiet and Doyle spun again, grabbing his arm.

  “Don’t move!” Stepan shouted, still pointing his pistol at Doyle.

  Eastwood lunged from his chair and bolted into Stepan knocking him off balance. It was enough time for Doyle to scramble to his feet and disappear into the compound.

  Recovered from Eastwood’s blow, Stepan now had his pistol trained on the man who sat helpless on the ground.

  Harry moved to the tent’s doorway and glanced about, eyes peeled for Doyle. The man was not in sight anywhere.

  “He’s gonna take another hostage,” Dixie said, her eyes fixed on Eastwood. “I say shoot the bastard right here, right now.”

  “I doubt it,” Harry said. “The workers are all down on this end of the compound. Doyle took off in the opposite direction.”

  “He can’t get far on foot,” Stepan said. “If I can use your satellite phone, Harry, I’ll phone my boss. I wonder if Jing ever made it to the monastery.”

  Stepan pulled Eastwood to his feet, cuffed him, and then shoved him into a chair. Dixie followed Harry outside. Dusk was settling over the Mongolian steppe and the air temperature was dropping.

  “Be careful,” Stepan called from inside the tent. “He could still be lurking around somewhere.”

  Harry held Dixie’s hand as they stood next to the still-idling jeep.

  “Well, it’s over,” Harry said.

  “All except for one last criminal. I hope they can find him. I’m surprised he didn’t take this jeep.”

  “Wanted to get far away from here, I guess. I wonder what the professor will say when he learns about all of this.”

  “Probably laugh,” Dixie said.

  “I need to find out about my mother. She was going to have a pacemaker the last I heard. I hope she’s all right.”

  A man’s scream pierced the compound.

  Three gunshots.

  Dixie jumped, startled. “What in the world?”

  Stepan appeared by their side. “What was that?”

  Harry glanced in the tent and noticed that Li now had the captain’s pistol trained on Eastwood.

  “A man’s scream, then gunfire,” Harry said. “Coming from the west end of the compound. Let’s go.”

  They ran toward the sounds and soon discovered Doyle’s crumpled, blood-smeared body motionless on the ground. His skull had been crushed and white brain matter oozed from the gaping wound.

  Harry glanced up and pointed. “There!”

  In the waning light of dusk a dark, hulking figure was scurrying away. It stopped, turned, and looked at them over its shoulder, its red eyes blazing fire. Then it turned and disappeared into the darkness.

  Harry and Dixie looked at each other, nodded.

  “Yeti,” she said.

  They ambled back to where Li still had Eastwood under guard and Stepan retrieved his pistol.

  “Well, Mr. Eastwood, I think it’s going to be a long time before you see America again. Our courts here in Mongolia take a dim view of foreigners committing crimes. Now, Harry, where is that satellite phone of yours?”

  Chapter 33

  Harry was on the phone to Max. It had taken a few hours to locate his brother but he finally found him at his country club. Sitting in the command tent at the table, Harry doodled while Max talked.

  “After Mom had the pacemaker put in, she perked up for a while and felt better. Her breathing improved. Then a few days later, it started all over again, with her breathing difficulties and fluid accumulation. The doctor adjusted her medications and she has improved remarkably in the past forty-eight hours.”

  “Thank God,” Harry said, relieved that the worst had been averted.

  “She has been asking about you, Harry. I told her that you would call as soon as you could. I didn’t criticize you, either. You can thank me later, brother.”

  “I’ll call today, Max. I want to talk to her. I have felt bad for not being available but when I get home, I will tell you all about it. It’s been a helluva week, that’s for sure.

  “When will you be coming home, Harry?”

  “After all that’s happened here, I think we are finished with our work. Besides, I don’t think Dixie could stand working here much longer. I need to touch base with Professor Kesler first and then it will take another week to wrap things up. Allowing a week for travel, I’d say two weeks at the outside, Max. It will be good to see you.”

  “You’ll come to New York?”

  “Well, I’m going to try and get to Chicago to see Mom. Maybe you can fly out when I’m there. We can discuss it when I get home. How is Dad?”

  “He’s doing his usual complaining about all the work taking care of Mom, so situation normal.”

  After Harry finished the phone call with Max, Stepan walked into the tent and sat opposite him. He looked haggard with a week’s growth of beard on his face.

  “Colonel Bronislav is sending a chopper to pick up Eastwood and take him back to Ulaanbaatar. He’ll be arraigned in the next couple of days so he won’t be going home anytime soon. Maybe never.”

  “What will become of him?”

  “He’ll be charged with murder and attempted theft of national relics. Then he’ll stand trial, probably sometime next year. He will remain in jail until then. The odds are good that he will be convicted.”

  “What about you, Captain?” Harry said. He had taken a shower, shaved, and felt human. Stepan, on the other hand, was still wearing his grimy uniform. “I can furnish you with some clean clothes if you wish to shower and clean up before returning.”

  “It would be much appreciated, Harry. I do feel a bit filthy. I can even smell myself. My boss, Colonel Bronislav, is excited about what has happened. He is pleased that we have interrupted a potentially embarrassing crime and is going to promote me to major. It will mean a nice raise in my salary.”

  The two men laughed together then sat silent. Harry was going to miss the captain. “You have a family, Captain?” he asked.

  Stepan nodded. “A wife and two small boys. It will be good to see them again. I have missed them terribly. My wife, she wants to send our boys to private school so having a major’s salary will be of great help.”

  Dixie joined the men, looking scrubbed and sparkling in jeans and a western shirt. She had applied perfume and its scent filled the tent with a
pleasant aroma.

  “What about you both?” Stepan said.

  “Well,” Harry said, looking longingly at Dixie. “For starters, now that I have found the woman of my dreams, I don’t ever intend to let her out of my sight.”

  “Bravo,” Stepan said. “I give you both my blessing. May you have many children.”

  Dixie smiled and put a hand in Harry’s. “We plan to.”

  The next morning, they stood with Li and Cheng at the edge of the compound and waved as the Russian Mi-24 Hind helicopter lifted off, ferrying Captain Stepan and Eastwood, along with Doyle’s body, back to Ulaanbaatar. The air was crisp and the sunlight glinted off the beating rotors as the airship disappeared in the distance.

  Turning to Li and Cheng, Harry smiled. “Well, Li. Professor Kesler wants to end this project and bring Dixie and me home. The sooner the better, so start tearing it all down. I’ll pay off everyone when the work is finished. They’ve earned a bonus.

  Li’s eyes glistened and he found it difficult to speak. “Okay, boss,” was all that he could manage.

  ***

  Harry and Dixie relaxed in their room at the Kempinski Hotel in Ulaanbaatar, waiting for their flight to Beijing the following day. Located at the heart of the Bayanzurkh district, a hub in Ulaanbaatar, it was within easy reach of shopping malls, popular restaurants, and business districts. The two had marveled at the marbled lobby and the enormous fountain in its center while they registered and found their room. Their spacious two-bedroom suite included a view overlooking downtown, a sofa, plush easy chairs, and a wet bar full of cold drinks. Lights from the city shone brightly through the window, and a large yellow moon sat in a darkening sky above the horizon to the north.

  Harry sipped a beer while Dixie lounged on the sofa, thumbing through a magazine. There was a knock on the door.

  “Professor!” Harry exclaimed, seeing Kesler standing there, overnight bag in hand.

  “Am I disturbing you?” Kesler asked, smiling.

  Dixie jumped up, hugged the man, then kissed his cheek. “But how--I mean--Where--”

  Kesler laughed as Harry ushered him to a soft easy chair next to a window. “You’re wondering where I was when you called?”

  “Yes, how--

  “You called my cell phone, Harry. And through the magic of modern technology your call was routed to me while I was in Beijing during a layover. I didn’t say anything ’cause you were busy explaining what had happened.”

  “Gosh, it’s good to see you, Professor.” Dixie gave him another hug and the old man blushed.

  “Harry,” Kesler said, “can I speak with you in private for a minute?”

  “Sure, Professor, we can talk in here.” Harry ushered the man into a bedroom. “What gives?” he said, once the two men were alone.

  “Harry,” Kesler began, “I want to apologize. This has been weighing on my mind for quite some time. I am sorry for the way I have treated you. After your mistake with the journal article, I was hurt because you have become a son to me--the son I never had.” Kesler’s eyes moistened as he continued. “It was wrong of me and I’m asking you to forgive me. Please.”

  Harry hadn’t expected this turn of events and was unable to speak, for the words got stuck in his throat. The Professor’s eyes were pleading.

  Finally, Harry composed himself. “You’re much too kind, Professor. Your love and respect mean everything to me and I know how much I let you down. Why I did what I did is difficult to explain but I got caught up in a rush to make a name for myself. I wanted a shortcut to an academic reputation and somehow I lost my personal integrity along the way. I am the one who needs your forgiveness. I’m not sure I can ever make it up to you.”

  Kesler took Harry by the arms and embraced him, a broad smile on his face. “It’s done,” he said. “Over and behind us. We forgive each other and now we can go forward. No need to speak of it again. Shall we join the others now?” Back in the main room, Kesler plopped into a chair.

  “Care for a beer?” Harry said and, when Kesler nodded, he produced one from the wet bar.

  He ushered the Professor to a plush easy chair by a window. Kesler looked drawn and haggard, no doubt fatigued from his long trip. There were dark circles under both eyes.

  “I don’t believe it,” Harry said. “I just don’t believe you are actually here. We were hoping to see you as soon as we arrived back in San Francisco but this is an absolute surprise.”

  “I stopped by the office of the National Police and spoke with a Colonel Bronislav,” Kesler said. “I had chatted with him briefly before when I was worried about you two. I have some bad news, Harry. The young woman, Jing, who acted as your guide, was found dead near the monastery at Tenduk. Apparently killed by a large animal or something. Her skull had been crushed. I’m sorry.”

  Harry and Dixie looked at each other.

  “From what the colonel told me it was a vicious attack. Harry, I want you to know--you have made me very proud. Just think, Dixie, a former student of mine making a monumental discovery.”

  Harry’s eyes watered, his voice quaked with emotion at Kesler’s praise. “Not just any large animal, Professor. A Yeti.”

  Kesler’s eyes brightened and his back straightened. “A what?”

  “A Yeti,” Dixie said. “We’ve seen them. They exist.”

  Kesler blinked then stared, first at Harry then at Dixie then back at Harry. “You can’t be serious,” he said. “It’s only legend. No one has ever seen them.”

  “We have,” Harry insisted. “What is more, we know where to locate them. There is a family of the creatures living in the Altai Mountains. We’ve been there, seen them.”

  “Bring back pictures? Evidence?”

  “Unfortunately, no.”

  Harry spent the better part of an hour describing to Kesler their trip to the monastery, viewing the skull, the kidnapping of Dixie, then getting caught in the cave-in and attacked by the Yeti. Dixie interjected with pertinent information she thought Harry was leaving out of his narrative.

  The professor sat, sipped his beer, and listened intently to their tale.

  “These creatures, which have become known as Yeti, reportedly look a lot like humans, except that they are covered in reddish brown hair, have pronounced brows, flat noses, and weak chins. Basically, they look an awful lot like what it’s believed Neanderthal men did. Reports aside, it’s been consistently debated whether the Yeti is a real creature or just another country’s version of Bigfoot. The most compelling proof that Yetis are real creatures comes from two factors: they’ve been showing up in fairly reliable accounts in a matter of fact manner for years, and their description isn’t that far-fetched.”

  “And now you claim to have actually seen them?” Kesler said, downing what was left of his beer in a single gulp.

  Harry held up a hand. “Whenever you hear a story about Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster, it tends to have an air of the fantastic to it. People tell the stories of these beasts, as if it was a life-changing moment. However, most older accounts of Yetis treat them as if they were common occurrences. They’ve even been found listed in an old Tibetan medical book alongside other animals, indexed like all the others. Most accounts put them in perspective as just being a lesser tribe of Mongolians, that weren’t as advanced as others, but co-existed nonetheless, even occasionally trading meat for trinkets with the more advanced tribes. I know it sounds fantastic but we have seen these creatures, fought them.”

  Finished, Harry sat back and waited for Kesler to say something.

  “You mentioned a skull?” Kesler said.

  “Yes, a Yeti skull, apparently. At the Tenduk monastery.”

  “Fascinating story. An artifact like that--”

  Harry laughed. “Hold on, Professor. Don’t get so excited.”

  There was a pause in the discussion while each person weighed Harry’s remarks.

  “You two getting married?” Kesler said after a long silence.

  “As soon as we are back
in San Francisco and we can get her parents out,” Harry said, clutching Dixie’s shoulder. He gave her a quick peck on her cheek.

  “Good, now that that’s settled, maybe we can get on to planning the next expedition.”

  “The next one?” said Dixie, looking surprised.

  “Of course. I’m going to send you both back here to bring back a Yeti specimen. Hopefully alive, of course.”

  Harry and Dixie looked at each other and shook their heads. Kesler’s words caused Harry’s spirit to soar. He was free of the past.

  “But, Professor,” Dixie said, “not before we have had a nice, long honeymoon.”

  With a wave of his hand, Kesler laughed, then sighed. “But of course,” he said. “I was young once.”

  ***

  Deep in a recess on a remote outcropping of the Altai Mountains, a large, hairy creature sauntered to the opening of the cave in which it lived. Large snowflakes swirled as an angry blizzard howled and covered the ground in deep drifts. A blue-gray sky, peeking through dense clouds, caused the landscape to appear as if viewed through a blue filter. Except for the wind screeching outside the cave, not another sound echoed in the mountains. The towering hulk stood in the opening and stared out into the muted world beyond. A thick vapor belched from its maw while its eyes glowed deep red, flickering as it looked around.

  After a long moment, it stretched out its huge, muscular arms and shrieked a shattering growl. Then it stepped from the cave, ambled through the deep snow, and disappeared into the mist.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Richard Edde was born and raised in Oklahoma. After graduating from Central State College, he attended the University of Oklahoma College of Medicine, where he earned his medical degree in 1971. After spending a few years in family practice in two rural Oklahoma towns, he completed a residency in anesthesiology. Following a long career in academia and private practice, he retired to devote time to writing. His first novel, The Photograph, was released in 2014. Dr. Edde resides in eastern Oklahoma with his wife.