The forest was silent as the men moved. The breeze didn't seem to penetrate the woods on this side of the river as much as it had on the south side. The absence of wind made the forest seem depressive.
As the three men finally turned away and made their retreat faster than before, twenty more of the shadows broke free of their cover and went north. The forms were large, twice the size of most men, and they moved with an upright gate that made them swift and confident in their long strides.
The forest north of the Stikine River was coming to life.
10
WAHACHAPEE FISHING CAMP
Sarah had convinced Ryan that he would only kill them if he attempted to lift the large Sikorsky helicopter off the ground with only an hour of light left to them. So Marla had started to lead them back to the general store with the promise that whatever had disturbed them the night before would not return to cause further harm to the remaining helicopters. Even more skeptical than before, Ryan relented.
As they walked through the trees, Jason watched as Sarah confronted the girl.
"Now, are you going to tell us what's out there, and how you can guarantee the safety of the helicopters?"
"Because, I think they left here. I believe they started north last night. I just don't know for sure."
"There it is again—they," Ryan said, slapping at a low hanging branch. "Come on, who are they?"
Marla smiled as Ryan caught up with her and Sarah.
"You are not the believing kind, Lieutenant, but I'll tell you. We are relative newcomers to this land. There were animals of every sort here many thousands of years before us. I've studied it as much as I could in the classes I have taken since I was a small child. I also have the stories passed down by my parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents. Even the Tlingit have told me the stories of the old ones who live here."
"You've hinted at that already," Ryan said as he again moved a branch that Sarah and Marla had easily avoided.
"I never told you I am taking anthropology at school in Seattle, with my major being zoology, did I?" Marla asked.
Sarah smiled. "You know, Professor Ellenshaw is the tops in his field. You two should have hooked up."
"I didn't want to say anything to the professor at the time, but I have read every one of his published works. He's really a brilliant man. Too bad his beliefs got him run out of three universities. That shows how the world looks upon certain theories as being heretic in many ways."
"Doc Ellenshaw believes in a lot of things, but we're not as closed-minded as you would believe," Sarah said, reminding the girl of what she told her before.
Marla looked as though she were thinking something over, and then she stopped and faced Sarah and Ryan.
"We have something in the northern reaches that need to be left alone. They are ancient, far older than the men who have followed in their evolutionary slowness. They are animals, and then again they are not." She held a hand up when Jason angrily rolled his eyes and started to speak. "You wanted the truth, so I am going to give it to you the only way I can."
"Go ahead, Marla," Sarah said, looking back at Ryan and shaking her head, indicating that he should keep his personality in check.
"The truth of what's up here has been told since the time of early man, passed down by northern tribes, and even picked up by southern Indians as far south as the United States. They have been witness to the real truth of the Chulimantan for centuries upon centuries."
"Chulimantan," Sarah repeated.
Marla smiled and then relaxed, knowing she had at least one attentive person.
"Yes, Chulimantan, the old folk and Indians around these parts call them They Who Follow. The reasons why they were called this has been lost for millennia, but all the indigenous people take their legends as fact, and they don't apologize for it. They Who Follow once inhabited the great northwest from the Arctic Circle to Washington, Idaho, Oregon, California, and Nevada. They were soon forced out by the growing American population." Marla took a breath. "They have started to decline in their narrow lands now. Nature is weeding them out and, of course, they don't understand their diminishing family state, and lately, at least the last hundred years or so, they have become far more aggressive in their behavior."
"Can you tell me just what in the hell you're talking about?" Ryan asked.
It was Sarah's turn to smile as she finally understood without Marla naming her legend.
"She's talking about Sasquatch, or as we think of it, Bigfoot."
Ryan didn't say anything, he just looked from Sarah and then to Marla. A slow, ever-growing smile crossed his lips and expanded until he raised his right index finger at both of the women.
"Okay, you had me going there for minute," he chuckled. "Bigfoot — now that makes sense."
"Remember the Amazon, Jason. Why is this so much harder to believe?"
Ryan did remember the Amazon, although he never saw the legendary creature, half man and half fish, that roamed in that dark, hidden lagoon. The colonel said it was there, so he himself never questioned the sanity of everyone who had seen it — but still, Bigfoot?
"No… fucking… way." Ryan laughed out loud.
Marla smiled. "That is the attitude we hope the rest of the world takes, Mr. Ryan. With that widespread disbelief it will keep people out and far away from the Stikine."
Before Ryan could comment again, the pounding of wood on wood sounded from miles away.
"You see, they are communicating. That's their way."
"Do you understand what they are trying to say?" Sarah asked.
"Don't have to understand, they only do that when they feel they are threatened. The striking of wood means they are gathering."
"Jack." Sarah only said the one word.
"It would seem the Russians and your friends have attracted some unwanted attention," Marla said as she turned to finish the walk back to the store. "And when pushed into a corner, the beast that legend, your own Professor Ellenshaw, and my family know as a possible link to a prehistoric ape called Giganticus Pythicus, they will prove what a survivor they truly are."
"Will they attack?" Sarah asked as she hurriedly followed, wanting an answer.
Marla stopped and turned.
"Giganticus Pythicus had supposedly died off during one of the most tumultuous and dangerous times in all of history — the last ice age. They are survivors; they have adapted to a violent world, so in defense of their home, Sarah, they will plan and execute, and they will kill anything they deem a threat to their family." Marla wanted to smile at the irony, but didn't. "Almost like a human would react, wouldn't you say? Maybe they have learned very well from watching our species."
NORTH SHORE OF THE STIKINE RIVER
Lynn watched the camp as it settled in for the night. Her attention was focused on a large tent that two guards stood in front of. Deonovich and Sagli had gone inside around sunset and had not left. Earlier, she had seen several boxes of articles moved inside, followed closely by the two Russian criminals.
She once more looked around and was about to exit her small tent when a pair of boots came into view. It was the large man who had threatened her small and fragile bones that morning. He raised his boot and not too gently shoved Lynn back inside.
"We's will be bringing your supper sooner, until then I do not wanting to see your face."
"Hey, I heard you guys had a scare this afternoon?" she said, hoping for a reaction.
She didn't see the large man frown, but she did see him abruptly turn away.
"I guess I will be wanting to seeing your face later," she said mocking his terrible English.
Lynn took a deep breath and was about to turn to lay down on her sleeping bag when she saw ten men gathering at the small fire in the center of the camp. They had darkened their faces and were in the process of checking some equipment. One of those pieces she saw were night-vision goggles. While she watched, Sagli finally made an appearance and approached the men. He spoke to them in Russian and Lyn
n could not follow what was being said. While she watched, she also took note that the men were all Spetsnaz. The other members of the team were standing guard or eating in their oversized mess tent.
Sagli said his final words and then looked at his watch. He nodded and the ten men left the fire, and disappeared toward the river where Lynn could no longer see them. She had a feeling that the commandos were leaving camp for a purpose that would not benefit her or anyone who may be following. The men she had seen were the most impressive of the Spetsnaz.
She only hoped if someone was out there they were alert, because she thought they were about to have company.
* * *
Jack was sitting alone. He looked at his watch three times in the last few minutes. The camp was fireless and they had finally forced some of the cold MREs down their throats with Henri Farbeaux complaining every bite of the way and constantly complaining about American military cuisine.
Jack watched as Professor Ellenshaw moved away from his sleeping bag where he had been sitting and watching the others. Collins knew something was on Charlie's mind, but was unwilling to ask him about it moments before he himself was due to cross the river. Charlie approached Jack, rubbing his hands on his pants leg as if he was nervous about what he had to say.
"Hi," Charlie said, not really knowing how to approach a man who still intimidated him even after years of knowing him.
"Hello, Doc. What's on your mind?" Jack said looking at his watch one more time and then pulling an old .45 Colt automatic from his side and checking the clip.
"Before you go, I wanted to say… well… thank you for bringing me along. I know it went against everything you believe me to be." The professor looked around; the others were busy doing this or that, things Ellenshaw had no idea about.
"Listen, Doc, I do pay attention to what you go through with the other sciences at the complex. A few of them snicker behind your back, but for the most part you've become a very valuable asset to the Group. After the things I've seen since being on this job, doing what you do probably makes more sense then what ten PhDs from other fields command."
"Thank you, Colonel. Outside of Niles, and even though you're a military man in the purest sense of the words, and being as I avoided the duty during my formative years, I respect you more than most for what you have achieved."
Jack looked the professor over, and then gave him a small smile and a short shake of the head.
"Thanks, Doc. You know, after the story you told about this place and the detail in which you delivered it, I could see you weren't scared like the others may have thought they saw. What I saw in your eyes wasn't fear, it was excitement. So telling you that you couldn't come on this trip would be like telling Mr. Everett tonight he couldn't go with me on a combat mission. My job is to protect field personnel, Doc; that's why you're here, to do your job and see what you can find out about what kind of animal life we have up here. That's all. You're here for differing reasons than us, but that doesn't make you any less important to this mission." Collins holstered the .45. "You belong here, Doc."
"I don't know what to say, I want—"
Jack stood and slapped Ellenshaw on the shoulder. "Save it, I have to go."
"Colonel?"
Collins stopped and turned to face the cryptozoologist.
"It's real, you know. It's not just a legend, and surely not a myth, but a scientific fact."
Jack rechecked the load in the AK-47 he was carrying, not wanting to look Ellenshaw in the face.
"What is real, Doc?" He finally looked up into the professor's thick lenses. "Can you say it? Believe me, out here in this place, no one's going to laugh."
"The animal is an offshoot of Giganticus Pythicus — the great ape. After many years of thought on the matter, that's the only thing it could be. It's here, Colonel, and very much a viable force."
Collins reinserted the magazine inside the Russian weapon and charged a round into the breach.
"Doc, what is its name? Until you say it, it really isn't real, is it?" Jack persisted.
"Bigfoot… it's… the legend of Bigfoot that's out there, Colonel."
"There, that wasn't so hard was it, Doc?"
Ellenshaw smiled and nodded. The colonel was right; it was far more comfortable once the name was out in the open.
Jack turned to leave as Everett approached.
"You're a damn fool, Jack. You need help."
"A long time ago when a woman was stolen by Indians, rescuers never launched a raid into their midst, they always snuck in at night and stole them back."
"Those men out there aren't Indians, Jack," Everett started to say, but saw something behind Jack that made him stop.
Collins turned and saw Punchy Alexander step into their small clearing. He nodded a greeting as he approached the two men.
"Where is Will?" Everett asked as he heard Jack click the selector switch on his weapon from its safe position. Carl wasn't wary until that moment. He had left his M-16 on his sleeping bag.
Alexander didn't answer. He went to one knee and then looked at the two men before him. Then he saw Ellenshaw, and just as quickly dismissed him. He found Henri Farbeaux lying on his sleeping bag, watching what was happening.
"Colonel Farbeaux, if you would remove your hand from that Colt at your side, you may live through this," Alexander said.
Henri sat up and held up two empty hands.
"What in the hell is this?" Everett asked, wondering why Jack remained silent.
"Professor Ellenshaw, please sit on your sleeping bag and make no silly movements." Punchy then turned and waved to the darkness behind him. "I'm afraid we have company," he said as he looked Jack in the eyes. "Sorry Jack, the bastards snuck up on me after they took the young lieutenant."
There was a grunt and then a man was thrust into the clearing. In the darkness, both Everett and Jack saw it was Will Mendenhall. He landed with a thud not far from them and Carl reached down to assist him to his feet. Mendenhall was bloodied somewhere in his scalp and his nose was broken.
"Sorry, Colonel… Captain," Will moaned, wiping blood from his nose. "This fucker cold-cocked me," Will said as one of the largest soldiers any of them had ever seen stepped into the clearing with his weapon leveled at Mendenhall's back. Then the Russian pointed his automatic at Alexander and gestured for him to join the others.
"I guess I'm getting too old for field work. I'm sorry, Jack." Alexander raised his hands as he stood next to Collins.
The large Russian waved his right hand and then the clearing became crowded with Russian commandos. They stood far back from the Americans, the Canadian, and lone Frenchman, but their weapons were well equipped and they were all aimed at preselected targets. Collins eyed the men surrounding them and then looked at Alexander.
"Will, do you think you're going to live?" Jack asked Mendenhall as he looked over the situation.
Will nodded his head, not liking the way it made him dizzy, but he didn't want the Russians to see how bad he was hurt. "I've been hit harder by my sister, Colonel," he said as he tried his best to stand straight, but kept most of his weight leaning against Everett.
"It's my fault, I was at point, I should have seen—"
"It's time to quit playing the good guy, Punchy."
Everett looked over at Alexander and saw a small smile appear as he lowered his hands.
Punchy turned and walked over to the largest of the Russians, the one that had slammed his rifle butt into Will's face, and reached out and took the holstered automatic from the man's side. Then he turned and faced Jack and the others. He clicked off the safety and then raised the weapon toward his one-time friend with the smile still on his face.
"Nice friends you have, Jack," Everett said as he reached out and steadied Will as he swayed, almost falling down.
Collins remained silent as he looked into the eyes of Alexander.
"I told you, Jack, you shouldn't cross the river tonight. My friends knew we were here and would have been waiting, and fo
r the moment I can't have you hurt. You're far too valuable. However, everyone else here, including young Lynn across the way, are now expendable. Your sister has done quite well at luring you into the open, Jack… let's not waste that."
Charlie Ellenshaw, without warning, reached out and tried to grab a weapon that was in the firm hands of the Russian closest to him while at the same time pulling out the switchblade he kept in his back pocket. Jack and Everett tried to move, but for the first time in their professional lives, found they couldn't.
"Doc, no!" Collins finally shouted out.
Ellenshaw actually did manage to take the Spetsnaz off guard. He grabbed the barrel of the man's Kalashnikov, while at the same time slamming home the small knife into the man's arm, but that was as far as he got. While the Russian soldier screamed at the insult of the knife entering his arm, Punchy Alexander raised the automatic and shot Ellenshaw in the back. The professor, still holding the barrel of the weapon felt the bullet strike. He stumbled forward and fell, the bloody knife still clutched in his hand. The commando, ignoring the small wound to his arm, moved his feet out of the way and Charlie hit the dirt and lay still. The Spetsnaz watched the body go still and then spit on Ellenshaw's back.
Everett lunged but was stopped by Jack. Mendenhall turned and shouted something that was incoherent.
Collins gently shoved Carl back and then tossed the AK-47 to the ground. Then he looked up into Punchy's face.
"I'll kill you for that."
Alexander stood and shoved the still-smoking weapon into his waistband as he motioned for the Russians to take control of their new prisoners.
"The days of you making good on threats are over, Jack," he said as he stepped up and whispered into Collins's ear. "Tell me, as little as five years ago, could I have maneuvered you out of wherever you were hiding in the thick recesses of your black world and trick you into following your sister's kidnappers without you suspecting something was wrong?"
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