by Scott Conrad
There were a lot of tracks, mostly from skis though there were at least two sets of snowshoes.
"I don't like the looks of this," Brad sighed. "What did Pete and Charlie stumble into?" He paused for a second, his mind registering the pattern of the tracks and totaling up the number of personnel who had been there. "Someone came after them," he said finally.
"Yes, and it looks to be a whole damned army," Ving replied. “This just turned into a whole other ball of wax than a search and rescue mission."
"Who were these guys?" Brad asked rhetorically.
"And why were they after Pete and Charlie?" Ving wondered aloud.
"Brad, come and check this out," Jessica yelled.
The team quickly converged on Jessica's position to see what she has discovered.
"Blood in the snow," she said anxiously, "Lots of blood."
Jared shouted, "I've got a body over here."
Jessica, Brad, and Ving followed a bloody frozen trail and three sets of tracks nearly forty yards to their left to Jared's position. There laid a body face planted, half buried in the snow. There were white cross country skis on his feet.
Brad reached under and rolled him over. There was an M-16 slung around its neck.
“He’s just a kid…” Brad muttered in disbelief.
"Thank god it's not Charlie or Pete," Jessica said with relief.
“I found two more over there,” Tom said as he trudged over the ice to join the group. “They’re older than this guy, and they’re armed with M-16s… not AR-15s, M-16s with selector switches for full auto. There’s two sets of snowshoe tracks with roughly a dozen or so sets of ski tracks heading from here to the northwest.
Whoever they were, they were in a hell of a hurry. The dead guys not only still had their weapons, but they had a full load of magazines too. The attackers just left them lying there in the snow. Most likely Pete and Charlie are the ones on snowshoes. Charlie hates to ski.”
"Ving, try to get Robinson on the radio I want to talk to him," Brad ordered. He wanted to speak to the man personally. Not just to update him on their status, but to demand some immediate support. Weather be damned.
Ving knelt down out of the wind and began fiddle with the radio.
"Tom, we’re all good trackers but you’ve got far more experience tracking in the snow than the rest of us. Give me your assessment of this site?"
Tom recited pretty much the same conclusions Brad had already reached. “It looks like someone considered them a serious threat Brad. I think Pete and Charlie headed northwest around the peak of Mount Watana towards Fog Lakes”, Tom indicated the possible route with his index finger on Brad’s map. “They’re either navigating by terrain association if they have a map, or they’re going on dead reckoning.
Either way, if they can find Fog Lakes the terrain will be a lot easier than the mountains, and it’s pretty much a straight shot down the valley here to Stephan Lake Lodge. Pete would be somewhat familiar with the land between Fog Lakes and Stephan Lake Lodge… he’s hunted that country for years.”
Brad remembered what Robinson had said regarding the closest place of support near the transponder coordinates being east of Fog Lakes at Stephan Lake, their original destination. He did some measuring with his fingers on the map and estimated approximately eight miles of high country between where they were on Mount Watana and down to Fog Lakes, then another eleven miles of rough country from Fog Lakes to Stephan Lake Lodge. At least Pete and Charlie seemed to be headed in the right direction.
There was another path they might have followed, but he knew damned well Pete would never trade ease of travel for shorter distance, especially when being pursued by armed hostiles. He had little choice but to agree with Tom’s assessment. A quick glance at Jared, who usually performed the tracking function for the team, showed him that Jared was in full agreement with Tom’s assessment.
THE TRAIL
“Brad I'm having serious problems with this radio. The sat-phone isn’t working either. I can’t reach the Trooper office or anyone else. It's almost as if someone is jamming the frequencies.” Ving scratched his head. “We’re talking some fairly sophisticated equipment here buddy. What the hell have we walked into?”
"Maybe we just need to move to a different location to get a clear signal. If someone is jamming both of those devices we’ve got big troubles. If the hostiles have equipment advanced enough to employ electronic warfare countermeasures out here in the Alaskan wilderness then we could be in deep shit for sure."
Alaska Land Mobile Radio (ALMR) is a statewide system that connects over one hundred federal, state, municipal government and first responder entities. The system provides the entities with day-to-day communications and the ability to quickly switch to a communications' method that allows them to talk with each other so they can more efficiently communicate in an emergency. Most of the remotely located agencies rely totally on the ALMR as their principal network for daily operations.
A group with the ability to disrupt that network is a disaster in the making. CB radio might still function if those frequencies weren’t targeted by the countermeasures, but they were sorely limited by power constraints. The CB was popular with bush pilots because they operated at such a great height.
“We could check the GPS for a shorter route so we might cut them off, but if the sat-phone is jammed I doubt we will pick up the signal from that satellite either,” Ving said doubtfully.
Brad stared up into the snow-laden clouds and detected no sign that the increasingly heavy snowfall was going to let up anytime soon. The trail left by Pete, Charlie, and their unknown pursuers appeared glaringly obvious, but he knew that he couldn’t afford to tarry too long before following them. The wind was gusting fiercely and the tracks would be obscured by the drifting flakes in short order.
He estimated that he had four to five hours of limited visibility left before the sun gave up and left them in darkness. There was little chance that the moon would be able to peak through the cloud cover, eliminating any possibility of continuing to track them at night.
Making a snap decision, he turned to face his team. “Check your weapons; make certain your magazines are topped off. We’re moving out…” Despite the obvious hazards, he was determined to track them down. Pete was a hell of a man when it came to a firefight, but Charlie was an unknown variable. A dozen men would be too much for Pete to handle alone, especially since he was only carrying his hunting rifle.
Brad took the lead and let Jared, who normally would have been the lead tracker, take the rear. Jessica followed right behind him. Ving trailed behind Jessica, and Tom, pulling the ahkio, followed. Stout as Tom was, he was grateful to have three people breaking trail for him. It made the ahkio much easier to pull.
Jared followed as far back from Tom and the flat sled as possible, the better to listen for sounds of anyone that might try to track them. There were only five of them, but they were literally loaded for bear. Brad had complete faith that his team, with their training and firepower, could handle the force chasing his friends.
CHAPTER NINE
DISASTER AND DELAY
Day 2 2000 hours AKDT
The Piper had crashed on the frozen river, and when Pete fled he made a beeline southeast, obviously headed for the saddle between Mount Watana and the peak immediately southwest of it. Navigating the terrain proved a grueling task; Pete hadn’t made it easy for the men chasing him.
Brad had been setting a frantic pace for over three hours but made little headway, and he realized without having to glance at his wrist chronometer they had little light left. He followed the trail up over the saddle and started the treacherous descent down a steep draw with a sharp southwest dog-leg that would lead him to relatively flatter terrain all the way to Fog Lakes. That would then leave him a straight and very familiar trek to Stephan Lake Lodge.
For Brad and company, the path became increasingly difficult. Snow had drifted into the cracks in the stone face of the mountain, and Brad
often stopped himself just in time to keep from toppling into a crevice filled with solid appearing snow. He’d warned Jessica repeatedly to stay directly behind him. One wrong step could lead to disaster.
The steep draw turned into a narrow side canyon, and by then Brad could barely make out the outline of a frozen creek at the bottom. The trail led straight down to the creek bank. Brad called a halt for a short break at a rise in the draw, exhausted from breaking trail but unwilling to admit it.
Ving knew him better than any man alive, and he knew damned well that Brad was flagging and needed a break. “Hey, Tom,” he called out. “Why don’t you let me pull that ahkio for a while?”
Tom squinted ahead and saw that the snow had been blown away from the ground, leaving large rocky bare patches in the snow. He being a younger man than Brad or Ving, was still feeling fairly fresh. It crossed his mind that Ving might be trying to give Brad a rest more than trading off the work, but it didn’t matter to him. When Brad was ready to move out again, he would take point for a while. He was a damned good tracker and he knew it.
“I’ll take point for a while Brad… there’s not much trail to break, and Ving here is going to play sled dog for a while.” Brad acknowledged Tom’s suggestion with a nod. It would be a relief to stop breaking trail for a while. He told himself it wasn’t so much the physical effort that was sapping his strength, but rather the stress of watching for crevices and crannies that were sitting calmly beneath the snow, waiting to trap the unwary climber.
Brad moved his clenched fist in a circle over his head and then pointed it in the direction he wanted to move. Ving shrugged on the ahkio harness and leaned into it, following Brad and Jessica, who in turn followed around twenty meters behind Tom.
As they reached the bottom of the draw, Brad faced a decision. The banks of the frozen creek looked rugged and lined with large, sharp edged boulders that had broken off the mountain above them and tumbled down to the creek bed. The ice surface of the creek appeared smooth and flat, relatively unobstructed by the big rocks. He knew they carried a risk in taking the easier way, but time appeared short and there was an urgent need to catch up with Pete and the men pursuing him.
He took a deep breath and signaled for Tom to follow the frozen surface of the creek the next time the younger man looked back at him. The ice felt solid enough, and it measured almost fifteen feet wide, so when Tom glanced back once more, Brad raised his fist and pumped it up and down, the signal to pick up the pace. Tom sped up, and they began moving a hell of a lot faster than if they had stayed on the bank… and it was a lot easier. The trail seemed to be noticeably fresher, Brad noticed smugly. They were catching up.
A little more than twenty minutes after walking onto the ice, Brad heard the unmistakable sound of ice cracking. He looked up just in time to see Tom break through the ice and plunge into the icy water beneath it. Before he could even begin to run towards Tom, Jessica flashed past him and dove towards the hole in the ice. Tom was spluttering and splashing in the frigid water, and it was clear that the current was trying to drag him under. As Brad launched his body towards the hole, he knew that short of a miracle, Tom would be sucked under the surface and trapped beneath the ice. He would be lost forever.
Luck was with him, and it was Jessica who provided the miracle. She plunged her arm into the frigid water and managed to tangle her fingers in the straps on the back of Tom's pack. It took every ounce of strength she possessed to maintain her grip on the spluttering Tom, and she was terrified that she would be dragged in the water after him… there was nothing for her to hold onto.
She felt Brad’s iron grip on her ankles as he caught her, just as she was about to slip into the water herself. Freed for the moment of the fear she would be dragged in as well, Jessica fearlessly stretched out her other hand and got a handful of Tom’s short hair. She was trusting Brad to keep the three of them from slipping into the water. She held onto Tom with all her strength, but she could still feel him starting to slip away from her, the force of the current was hellish.
Ving and Jared saved the three of them by the simple expedient of tossing a climbing rope from the ahkio to them. Tom grabbed the very end of it, and then Jessica and Brad grabbed it as well. Ving and Jared raced for the creek bank, selecting a slender fir to run the rope behind, and then, using the tree as an anchor, they slowly hauled the three clear of the hole in the ice. Tom was soaked clear through, and the arms of Jessica’s parka were soaking wet as well.
One of the greatest dangers in traveling across the wild country of the Alaskan interior is the danger of falling into open water. Getting wet in sub-zero temperatures is extremely dangerous. Tom had been immersed in the water for less than a minute, but that was long enough to drop his core body temperature to a life threatening level. Everyone understood instinctively what had to be done, it was basic arctic first aid and their training had been the best available.
Jared collected firewood without having to be told, while Jessica broke out one of the silver thermal emergency blankets and wrapped it around Tom’s body as he shivered and tried to keep his arms and feet moving. Jessica tore at his wet clothes, knowing he would be better off without them underneath the thermal blanket.
Brad and Ving promptly removed the arctic tent from the ahkio and set it up as Jared knelt in the snow to start the fire with the wood he collected so quickly. Their efforts were smooth and coordinated, each of them aware that there was little time before Tom would start showing signs of hypothermia.
Tom stood by the small fire as Jessica dug through the waterproof bag inside Tom’s rucksack for dry clothes. In no time she slipped his wool trousers and shirt on him, not bothering to scrabble in the growing darkness for his spare long johns. The wool socks were harder to get on him, and he had to use one of his own hands to steady himself on her shoulder as she tussled to get them over his stiff, near frozen feet.
His VB boots were wet inside, but not soaked. Jessica didn’t try to get him to put them on, she simply shed her own parka and stepped close to the shivering Tom and pulled the silver blanket around them, her body heat helping to warm him.
Darkness fell like a heavy curtain. One second there was minimal visibility, the next second there was none. Brad didn’t want to stop his pursuit, but he had no choice. They would stay on the creek bank for the night. It was far from an ideal location. He’d wanted desperately to continue the pursuit, especially since they’d obviously been gaining ground. He was concerned that the trail might disappear overnight, but he knew that Tom would need to bring his body heat back up.
Since darkness had fallen, there was no longer any rush. Getting lost or losing the trail in the darkness wouldn’t help Pete and Charlie in the least. Brad’s only consolation was that he knew Pete’s pursuers had to stop too. Traveling after dark with no moon in these conditions was suicidal.
Brad really wanted to reach Pete and Charlie before dark, but it was now an impossibility and probably had been all along. He realized that the longer it took to catch up the worse their chances would be for success. They had been so close! This major setback was a huge disappointment. Getting an early start in the morning remained his only option. They would have to break camp in the dark, and get moving at daybreak.
Jared built a huge fire, and he and Ving had been busy collecting enough firewood to last through the night.
The three of them huddled around the fire as Jessica took Tom inside the arctic tent and rolled out the thick down sleeping bag.
“There,” she said, “Is that better?”
Tom, his face blue and his body still shivering and his teeth still chattering, tried to answer her but he couldn’t get the words out. Jessica frowned down at the man she had known far less time than she’d known Ving and Jared, and made a decision.
She peeled off her outer clothes, down to her wool long johns, and crawled into the sleeping bag with the muscular Tom, wrapping her arms around him and sharing her body warmth. “If you get a hard on I’m climbing
out of this sleeping bag damn you!” she whispered. She couldn’t see it in the darkness inside the tent, but Tom’s grin spread all the way across his face.
“I want to be moving at first light,” Brad said, the light from the fire flickering and casting shadows on his face. “They have to be stopped for the night too, there’s no way they could move in this shit at night.”
Ving said nothing. He knew they would have to find Pete and Charlie as soon as possible. Pete was a hell of a warrior, but Charlie remained an unknown, and Ving wasn’t comfortable with that. Wordlessly, he and Jared prepared a meal from the MREs in the ahkio. There was plenty for all of them. When it was hot, Brad carried two of them inside the squad tent to give to Tom and Jessica, though the tin cup of coffee Ving had made so carefully was rather cold by the time he got inside.
“Caught you sleeping with my niece, didn’t I?” he teased.
Tom clawed at the zipper on the sleeping bag, struggling to escape, but Jessica stopped him. “He’s just teasing you,” she said quietly, just before she turned to face Brad and sat up. “That was mean…”
Brad just grinned at her and passed her the two meals.
Ving kept trying to raise someone on the radio and the sat-phone, but he had no luck at all. In a few minutes, he sent Jared inside, taking the first watch himself.
CHAPTER TEN
SHOOTER
Day 3 0500 hours AKDT
Brad had the last watch, and it fell to him to go inside the tent to wake the others. He fumbled around in the darkness and finally found a shoulder to shake, whereupon he spoke in a loud voice, startling all of them out of a sound sleep. “Let’s get a move on people! Time to saddle up and move out.” His chronometer said 0500 sharp, and he was eager to get moving.
Knowing he wouldn’t need to tell them twice, Brad moved out of the tent and back to the fire, where the tin cup holding his instant coffee water was bubbling merrily in the freezing cold. It was still about an hour and a half before sunrise, but they needed to break camp and repack the ahkio. We’ll catch those bastards today!