Prey sahl-1

by Ken Goddard

  "Hummmph?"

  "I've been thinking," she whispered softly.

  "Yeah, me too," Lightstone nodded sleepily, keeping his eyes tightly closed as the heavy plane shuddered through a brief stretch of turbulence.

  "Oh? How could you be thinking when you were snoring?"

  "Um-hum, that too," Lightstone mumbled.

  "What I've been thinking," Marie went on as she rubbed her fingers gently over the nicely healed scar tissue on Lightstone's left temple, "is that you and Scoby and Paxton and Stoner really got into helping each other out. You know what I mean?"

  "Um-hum."

  "So won't you miss that? That adrenaline rush when you guys get into trouble, help each other out, and then joke about it afterward?"

  Henry Lightstone yawned and then shook his head slowly into the pillow resting against Marie's shoulder. "Scoby, Paxton, and Stoner are big boys," he whispered as he readjusted the pillow into a more comfortable position. "They can take care of themselves just fine. Don't need me as a baby-sitter."

  "So you really don't think you're going to miss all that crazy undercover stuff if you and I decide to settle down, grow carrots, and have kids?"

  "Nah, just a game," Lightstone mumbled softly. "Shit-pot full of rules. No referee. Last one standing wins."

  "That sounds pretty dumb, if you ask me," she said quietly after a long moment.

  "Uh-huh. Exactly what it is," Lightstone mumbled as he drifted back asleep. "Nothing serious. Just a dumb game."

  Fifteen minutes after Alligator Bay was once again glistening like a blue, reflective mirror, one of the camouflage-dressed riflemen slipped into the hidden pirogue and slowly paddled out to collect the few pieces of wreckage that had bobbed to the surface from the Super Cub. As he did so, he kept a close eye on the half-dozen alligators that had begun to investigate the floating debris.

  Back on shore, the second rifleman removed his ear protectors and slipped them into his jacket pocket. Then, after carefully changing the frequency setting on his scrambled radio, he brought the small electronic instrument up to his camouflage-painted face.

  "Charley Whiskey Seven to Charley Whiskey Four," he spoke quietly into the radio microphone.

  "Charley Whiskey Four, go," Paul Saltmann, the voice of "A1 Cousins, Florida State game officer," responded.

  "Charley Whiskey Seven, mission completed."

  "Can you see him?"

  Gunter Aben looked out across the bay as Felix Steinhauser cautiously reached over the side of the pirogue and retrieved the bullet-punctured lid of a foam ice chest.

  "That is negative. We can see nothing except the debris and the alligators."

  "Charley Whiskey Four, copy. They can have him," Paul Saltmann said. "Two down and four to go."

  Chapter Thirty

  Lightstone had been expecting to see McNulty waiting for them at the gate. Instead, he saw a young Eskimo man standing off by himself, holding up a sign labeled " lightstone." Pulling Marie off to the side, Lightstone watched the young man with the long, dark brown hair and dark features.

  "Is something wrong?" Marie Pascalaura asked, still looking around for Paul and Martha McNulty.

  "See that young guy over there to the right, the one holding the sign?"

  "Yes, I… oh, that is odd, isn't it?"

  "What do you say we sit over there for a while and see what he's up to?" Lightstone said, gesturing toward a group of empty seats at the opposite gate.

  They walked over to a pair of seats that would give them a good view of the young Eskimo man. Lightstone dropped his carry-on bag at his feet and settled into the chair.

  "So what are we looking for?" Marie asked calmly. "Somebody else named Lightstone?"

  "Tell you the truth, I'm not sure," Lightstone said.

  They waited until the first group of stewardesses came through the ramp gate, signaling the end of the deboarding process. The Eskimo walked over to one of the stewardesses as Lightstone rose and walked around and behind him.

  "Yes, sir, I am certain that all the passengers on this flight are off the plane," Lightstone heard the stewardess say. "You might try down at the baggage-claim area."

  "But-" the young Eskimo started to say as he turned to follow the stewardess.

  "Maybe I can help you," Henry Lightstone said in a neutral voice.

  "Uh… you, are you Henry Lightstone?"

  "I know a guy named Henry Lightstone. Any reason why he might know you?"

  "Oh, yeah, right," the young man nodded as he quickly reached inside his jacket, unaware that Lightstone had almost delivered a takedown kick to his groin as he pulled a black folding badge case out of his pocket.

  "I'm Special Agent Thomas Woeshack," he said, holding the opened credentials out for Lightstone's inspection. "Paul… I mean Special Agent in Charge Paul MeNulty was supposed to be back in the office by now, but we got a call this morning about somebody shooting at bears down around Skilak Lake. He was going to be flying by the area, so he asked me to come out to the airport and pick… uh, you up."

  "Henry Lightstone," Lightstone nodded, relaxing and smiling as he accepted the eager young agent's firm handshake. "And this," he said, putting his hand on Marie's shoulder, "is my fiancee, Marie Pascalaura."

  Thomas Woeshack smiled and shook her hand also. "Happy to meet you, too. Welcome to Alaska."

  "It's nice to be on the ground again," she said.

  Woeshack picked up one of the two carry-on bags and led the way out of the deboarding area.

  "Man, I can't tell you how glad I am to see you," Woeshack said.

  "Oh, really? Why's that?" Lightstone asked.

  "Because MeNulty said that if I wanted to learn how to do undercover work, I'd have to wait until you got here to teach me." Woeshack smiled with bright enthusiasm.

  "You're coming up here to teach covert work?" Marie asked, looking over at Lightstone with mixed amusement and disbelief.

  Lightstone shrugged as he looked down at the young agent's hands. "As a start, if we're going to do any covert work within a hundred miles of this airport, you might want to ditch that sign and put your badge away."

  "Oh, yeah, right," Woeshack nodded as he returned the badge case to his jacket pocket and stuck the crudely lettered sign in a nearby trash can.

  "I can't believe it," Marie said, shaking her head in amazement. "You really are going to give it up, aren't you?"

  "As it was explained to me by a wise fellow named Carl Scoby," Lightstone said, "once you accept a promotion to senior resident agent, the fun's over. Nothing but paperwork and headaches until you retire." He looked over at Marie and grinned. "Sound good to you?"

  They took the stairway down to the lower level, entered a tunnel with red and blue neon tubes arched over the ceiling, took a short escalator back up to baggage claim, and then worked their way over to the third carousel.

  "Speaking of fun," Woeshack said, "Special Agent in Charge McNulty-"

  "It's okay to call him Paul," Lightstone interrupted. "He won't mind."

  "Yeah, okay, that's sort of what he said, too, but I wasn't sure.."

  "Paul's a real easy guy to work for. Just don't try to bullshit him too much and you'll be fine."

  "I'll remember that," Woeshack said solemnly. "Anyway, Paul suggested that I take you two out for an orientation trip. I thought we might go down to the Kenai Peninsula, put you in one of the cabins, see some wildlife, and then maybe take one of the patrol boats out to do some lake-trout fishing on Skilak Lake." The young agent grabbed up the two larger bags that Lightstone pointed out. "He said you could either do that or sit in his office and do his paperwork until he gets back."

  "Orientation trip," Marie Pascalaura said enthusiastically.

  "Sounds a lot better than paperwork," Lightstone nodded agreeably as they started for the parking lot.

  "Okay, we'll get you checked into the hotel and then, unless you want to rest up some, we'll head on out."

  "We can rest up later," Marie said as she watched t
he two men toss the luggage into the back of the government Suburban. "I want to see my new backyard."

  At the opposite end of the ground-level Anchorage Airport parking lot, Gerd Maas climbed into a van, tossed his duffel bag to the back, and pulled the door closed. He turned to Kimiko Osan.

  "What has happened so far?" he asked.

  "Aben and Mueller reported in two hours ago," she replied in a controlled, respectful voice. "Phase One and Phase Two were completely successful. The teams are currently repositioning for Phases Four and Five."

  "Excellent," Maas nodded as his cold eyes surveyed the parking lot. "Tell me about Phase Three."

  "Everyone is in position. They have been waiting for your arrival."

  "What about our diversion?"

  "We are monitoring his movements right now," Kimiko Osan said.

  "Shoshin says that he has been alert and uneasy for the past few hours, as if he senses that we are out there."

  "Oh?"

  "But that is of no concern," she quickly added. "We can take him at any time."

  "And the female?"

  "There is no indication that she is aware of our presence or our movements," Kimiko Osan said. "She will be easy, I think."

  "In most species, the female is often considered the most dangerous," Maas suggested with a slight smile.

  "Yes, I have been told that several times," Kimiko Osan said with a straight face.

  "And what about Mr. Chareaux? Has he been cooperative?"

  "No, not at all. And because of that, it was necessary to be more explicit with our instructions."

  "So I see," Maas nodded as he looked at the cut on Kimiko Osan's swollen lower lip. He had already noted the bruising on the knuckles of her lethal right hand.

  "It is nothing," Osan said, holding her hands steady on the steering wheel of the van as she watched another group of travelers pass by.

  "Of course," Maas agreed. "How badly is he hurt?"

  "His internal injuries are of no consequence. He fought against the wrist lock, however, and hit his mouth on a rock when he finally went down. A front tooth was broken."

  "Unavoidable?"

  "He was very fast," she said matter-of-factly. "I did not see the rock until it was too late."

  "The wrist is broken also?"

  "I regret to say, yes."

  "It had been my intention to handle Phase Three myself," Maas said.

  "Yes, I understood that," Kimiko Osan said quietly, looking down at her lap, "I realize that I have failed you."

  "Perhaps not," Maas said as he stared out through the spotless windshield in quiet contemplation. "As a matter of fact, I think that you may have provided me with a more interesting option."

  Talking in his characteristically low and chilling voice, Gerd Maas outlined his plan for the modification of Phase Three.

  "I would be honored to do my part," Kimiko Osan said quietly, still unable to turn and face the man that she alternately worshiped and feared.

  "The timing would be critical," Maas said, struck by the irony that he would be entrusting his life to this small, slender young woman.

  "Yes, of course," Kimiko Osan nodded, her eyes filled with pride as she finally turned her head and looked into the cold blue eyes of Gerd Mass. "I will not fail you again."

  At three-fifteen that afternoon, Special Agent Thomas Woeshack turned off the Old Seward Highway onto Tudor Road, turned right into the first driveway, and then drove around to the rear of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service's regional office building. There had been an early winter storm, but most of the snow had melted, leaving only sporadic patches of dirty snow and ice that made Marie Pascalaura shiver in spite of her warm coat.

  "This is fall?" she said to no one in particular.

  "Just wait until you see winter," Lightstone nodded.

  "I've got to run inside for a minute and pick up some of my gear," Woeshack said to Lightstone. "Want to come in and say hi to Sally and Jennifer?"

  "Sally and Jennifer?" Marie Pascalaura asked, curious.

  "Sally's our lead secretary," Woeshack explained. "She's the only one around here who knows how to find anybody in the field any time of the day or night. McNulty says that makes her indispensable."

  "And Jennifer?"

  "One of the wildlife inspectors. She's very nice, and very pretty," Woeshack added helpfully.

  "I'd like to meet them," Marie Pascalaura said cheerfully.

  "That might not be such a good idea," Lightstone suggested.

  "Oh, really?" Marie said, raising her eyebrows questioningly. "Don't you want me to be able to find you when you're 'out in the field'?"

  "Of course," Lightstone said solemnly. "I want you to know exactly who I'm with and what I'm doing at all times. Especially when you're cuddled up in front of a fire in a nice warm blanket while Woeshack and I are freezing our asses off in ten feet of snow trying to arrest some guy for shooting a frozen duck out of season."

  "Ah."

  "And besides," Lightstone added, ignoring the strange look that he was getting from Woeshack, "wives and girlfriends are always getting jealous. To tell you the truth, it can get kind of embarrassing."

  "God, you men are hopeless," Marie Pascalaura said as she got out of the Suburban and followed Thomas Woeshack to the side door of the building.

  Fifteen minutes later, Marie Pascalaura, Jennifer Alik, and Sally Napaskiak-who, in spite of being in her mid- sixties and decidedly overweight, happened to be a very attractive woman of Canadian and Native Aleut Eskimo extraction-were chattering away happily in the office of Special Agent in Charge Paul McNulty.

  "Uh, I really hate to break this up," Lightstone said, "but if we're going to get out to the lake before it gets dark…"

  "Oh, all right," Marie Pascalaura said with a sigh as she got up out of the chair. "But I still have a lot of questions for Sally and Jennifer."

  "I'll have you all over for dinner," Sally Napaskiak said as she walked Marie to the door. "I'll be happy to tell you everything I know about Anchorage."

  "Uh, Sally," Thomas Woeshack broke in, "I wonder if you could drop them by their hotel to check in and then take them over to the base? I need to go ahead and get things ready."

  "Yes, of course. Go on, go on." Sally Napaskiak waved impatiently and then chuckled as the young special agent disappeared down the hallway.

  "He is always so on the go," she said, smiling.

  "Have you known him for long?" Marie asked as she and Henry followed the older woman back out into the main office.

  "Oh, for all his life," Napaskiak laughed. "His mother and I were children together," she explained as she picked up a set of keys from her desk drawer, grabbed her coat, and then motioned for Henry and Marie to follow her down the hallway to the back parking lot. "Loo-chook, my friend, is a full-blooded Athabaskan, but she thought that my hair was so pretty because my mother was Caucasian, and she was always saying that she wanted a daughter just like me.

  "So," Sally Napaskiak smiled as she unlocked the doors to the dirt-covered Ford Bronco, "being the very stubborn person that she is, Loo-chook disobeyed her mother and father, went out and found herself a handsome young Swedish gold miner to marry, and then had five boys. Thomas is the youngest, and my favorite," Sally confided in a lowered voice. "Loo-chook says he has hair just like mine."

  They continued to talk as they drove, and Lightstone, sitting in the backseat of the Bronco, his head back and eyes closed, found himself so caught up in the front-seat conversation that he didn't realize where they were when the Bronco came to a slow, sliding stop.

  Until, that is, he looked to his right and saw the row of planes.

  "What…?"

  And then looked to his left: and saw Special Agent Thomas Woeshack loading bags of gear into the back storage compartment of a float- mounted, orange, single- engine Skywagon II Cessna. The plane was tied down in one of the three ten-by-twelve slips that had been cut into the rocky shoreline and lined with thick boards to prevent water erosion.


  "Oh, my God!" he whispered.

  "Marie, this will be your first true adventure in Alaska," Sally Napaskiak predicted. "And all because you have found yourself a very brave fellow for a husband." She reached back and patted Henry Lightstone's leg.

  Marie and Sally opened the doors of the Bronco, leaving a numbed Henry Lightstone to pull himself out of the backseat.

  "I usually prefer bigger planes," Lightstone said mostly to himself as the women started walking toward the floatplane. He grabbed the duffel bags.

  "Big plane, small plane, it is all the same thing. Sally Napaskiak waved her hand in a dismissive manner. "You take off, you fly, you land. What else is there?" she asked, bringing her large hands out in a broad shrug as they stopped about fifteen feet from the plane.

  "Yeah, but the guys who fly the big planes…" Lightstone said. "I mean, who…?"

  Then the light suddenly dawned. "You mean he's a pilot?" Henry Lightstone rasped in a horrified voice, pointing an unsteady finger at the youthful-looking special agent who, to Lightstone's disbelieving eyes, suddenly looked even younger.

  "Who, Thomas?" Sally Napaskiak laughed. "Yes, of course he's a pilot. Didn't you know? Everyone was so proud of him when he finally got his license, too. You should have seen the family gathering," she said to Marie. "We had so much food-"

  "When?" Lightstone asked in a dulled voice.

  "When what?" Sally Napaskiak asked, a puzzled look on her face.

  "When did he get his license?" Lightstone said slowly.

  "Oh, not so very long ago," Sally Napaskiak beamed. "It was such a party. And we were all so proud of Thomas because he had worked so hard. I mean, you could not believe how hard he had worked. Hours and hours he had to practice because they are so picky, those licensing people, about how they want you to land these little toy planes. Can you believe it? I mean, really, these planes are so simple that even a child could-But you're not afraid to fly, are you?" Sally Napaskiak suddenly asked Marie.

  "Who, me? God, no, I love to fly," Marie Pascalaura laughed. "I can't wait."

  Lightstone walked slowly to the plane. Woeshack quickly took his bags and stuffed them into the back storage compartment.