The Vanishing

by Gary Winston Brown

  Krebeck closed the door, shoved the branch under the narrow gap at its base, wedged it tightly into place. “It won’t hold for long,” he said.

  “It won’t have to,” Fallon said. He threw the kerosene lamp against the door, watched it smash. Rivers of the flammable liquid ran down the door and trickled across the verandah. “Stand back,” he said. He aimed the gun at the metal door handle and fired. The bullet ricocheted, sparked, ignited the fluid. The door was suddenly engulfed by the flames. Within seconds, the front of the cabin had become a raging inferno.

  “Come on,” Fallon said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Yelling from the forest.

  Voices echoed from all directions.

  “Federal agents! Throw down your weapons!”

  “Damn it!” Fallon cried. “I warned you this would happen, Joseph!” He placed his gun behind Krebeck’s head and pulled the trigger. Krebeck’s body shuddered. He dropped to his knees. His arms fell limp at his sides. Blood streamed down his face and chest, spilled over his thighs, pooled at his sides. Fallon lifted Krebeck’s lifeless body, dragged it across the path, and heaved it up against the cabin. He watched as the body slid down the flaming wall, fell on its side, and blocked the door.

  In death, Krebeck stared at his executioner as the fire slowly consumed him, first his legs, next his hands, arms, torso, and finally his head.

  “Fuck you, Joseph,” Fallon said. He spat at the fire-ravaged corpse.

  Behind him, footfalls crashed through the forest.

  His pursuers were closing in.

  Black smoke billowed from the blazing cabin.

  Fallon raced down the mountain path and disappeared into the woods.

  69

  “KEEP YOUR HANDS where I can see them!” Mark yelled as he approached the motionless figure lying on the trail ahead of him.

  The body stirred, moaned.

  Oyama crept closer, kept his gun trained on the center of the man’s body.

  “Please, help me.”

  “Who are you? Give me a name!” Mark demanded. He rolled the man onto to his back, searched him for a weapon.

  “Reisa… Reisa Stone. I’ve been shot.”

  “Where?” Mark said.

  “My leg.”

  Blood oozed from a hole in the man’s pant leg. Mark ripped open his jeans. Reisa cried out as Mark turned him on his side, checked the back of his leg, found the exit wound.

  “You’re lucky,” Mark said as he gently placed Reisa’s leg on the ground. “It’s a through and through. The bullet came straight out after it went in. You’re going to be all right. As soon as I can get you medical attention, I will.”

  Reisa tried to pull himself to his feet. “Got to… get to… the cabin.” he said.

  Mark held him down. “You’re not going anywhere in this condition,” he said. “Lie still and stay calm. I’ll be back soon. You’ll get all the help you need in a few minutes.”

  Stone grabbed Oyama’s leg as he tried to leave. “My friend’s wife and daughter… they’re in there.” He pointed to the cabin.

  Mark looked up toward the crest of the hill.

  The tiny house had become a funeral pyre.

  “Oh, Jesus, no!” Mark said. “Martin! Claire!”

  Mark raced up the hill. Fingers of fire climbed the shallow pitch of the cabin’s roof and clutched at the night sky.

  From inside, Mark heard their screams.

  70

  THE WINDOWS IN the small cabin hissed, crackled, then blew out. Fed by a sudden rush of air, flames whistled and sucked the oxygen out of the tiny room as it filled with smoke. Claire, Amanda and Virgil sat huddled together at the back of the room. Sky covered Blessing’s nose and mouth and tried to shield her daughter from the noxious assault of burning wood and roof tar. The little girl coughed and choked on the acrid fumes.

  “It’s no use,” Earl yelled. He cried out as he pulled his scalded palm away from the doorknob. “Fire’s roasted the handle to the frame! The damn thing’s fused together!”

  “If we don’t think of something fast, we’re all going to die,” Martin yelled above the roar of the fire. “This place won’t last much longer!”

  From outside the cabin came a voice. “Martin! Claire! Can you hear me?”

  “Mark?” Martin yelled. “Yes, we can hear you! We can’t get out.” Martin looked at Claire and Amanda. Virgil had succumbed to the smoke. He lay on the ground, unconscious. “We’re trapped, and we have civilian’s down.”

  Mark yelled above the raging flames. “Can you get to the back of the cabin?”

  “Yes,” Martin cried. The roof moaned, then sighed.

  A fiery timber fell into the middle of the room, knocked Earl Bentley to the ground. The old man scrambled to his feet, shook it off. “If your friends have got a plan to get us out of here,” he said, “now would be a damn good time to use it!”

  An unknown voice called out. “Get as far away from the door as you can! Call out when you’re clear! Ready?”

  “Ready!” Martin yelled.

  “Cover your heads!” Pike yelled. “When you hear the blast, run like hell!”

  The commander lobbed a concussion grenade at the base of the cabin door. Planks of ember-laden wood exploded and left a hole where the door once stood. Inside the room, a second fire-ravaged ceiling beam fell.

  “Clear!” Pike yelled. He ran into the inferno. “Everyone out, now!” He grabbed Virgil’s hand, draped it over his shoulder, then dragged the wounded man up onto his shoulders in a firefighter’s carry position. “I’ve got him,” he yelled. “Now go!”

  Martin helped Amanda and Claire out of the burning building and into the welcoming arms of Karen, Dan, and Cynthia. Earl Bentley attended to Sky and Blessing.

  Pike laid Virgil gently on the ground.

  Vigil coughed. He spoke in a hoarse whisper. “Sky… Blessing… where is my family?”

  “Easy,” Pike said. “Try not to talk. Take a few deep breaths. Everyone got out alive. They’re safe.”

  Pike’s team leader joined him, knelt beside the two men, shook his head. “Team two has been tracking Fallon. He’s alone and on foot. They can’t get a clear shot. The fire made using night-vision impossible. Our glasses are useless.”

  “There’s only one place he could go,” Virgil whispered. “One place you’d never think to look for him.”

  “Where’s that?” Martin said.

  Virgil pointed. “Off the main trail, along the side of the mountain. There’s a cave.”

  “How do we find it?”

  “Look for The Twins.”

  “The Twins?”

  “Two granite pillars, each about four feet high and a foot wide. They stick up out of the ground a few feet in front of the entrance. Find the Twins and you find the cave.”

  “That has to be where he’s headed,” Martin said to Pike. To Virgil, he said, “Take it easy. Don’t worry. We’ll find your family.”

  “Be careful,” Virgil said. “The ledge in front of the entrance is narrow. One wrong step and--”

  “I’ll be fine,” Martin said. “You just rest.” Martin stood. He turned to Mark. “I’m going after him.”

  “The hell you are!” Mark replied. “Pike’s men will track him down.”

  “Not a chance. Fallon’s mine. The son of a bitch murdered my wife and kidnapped my daughter!”

  “I can’t let you go after him, Martin.”

  Too late, Oyama’s words fell behind Martin as he jumped to his feet and ran down the trail. “You don’t have a choice, Mark!”

  Mark yelled to Dan Raines. “Follow him! Don’t let him out of your sight! Not for a goddamn second!”

  71

  THE VAN IN the laneway… Melanie, crying on the kitchen floor… Mysterious chanting, then the coming of darkness… ‘Mellie! Where are you?… Oh God, no! Melanie!’… The voice on the end of the line: “I’m deeply sorry, Mr. Belgrade. The identification is positive. The dental records are indeed those of your
wife, Anne.”

  The spectral images and disembodied voices in Martin’s mind fueled him as he raced along the mountain path, dodging overhanging branches and avoiding bone-snapping rocks. In the distance, a pair of stone pillars jutted out from the ground like ancient tribal markers.

  The Twins.

  Sound emanated from the treeline above.

  Running.

  Twigs and branches cracked underfoot, then silence.

  Martin crept past the stone slabs and navigated the narrow ledge. When he had reached the mouth of the cave, he stepped inside.

  The attack came from out of the darkness. The unseen blow struck him hard in the chest, sent him reeling backwards from the force of the impact. Martin lost his footing on the broken ground and slid over the edge of the cliff, clutching out as he fell. His arm became entangled in an outcropping of tree roots, violently ending his descent. He swung helplessly back and forth and stared down at the jagged mountain floor below. Particles of loose sand and gravel streamed over the ledge. He turned his head and looked away, avoiding the assault to his face and eyes. When at last he looked up, Fallon stood above him.

  “No way you’re getting off this mountain alive, Fallon!” Martin yelled. The pain ripping through his shoulder was unbearable, but he refused to allow the killer to see the pain on his face or hear it in his voice. “Too many people want to see you pay for what you’ve done. Especially me.”

  “Forgive me if I fail to give a shit,” Fallon called down. “But from where I stand, I’d say my chances of getting away are pretty fucking good.”

  “I’m warning you,” Martin said. He struggled to get a foothold on the cliff face, couldn’t. “Give it up. As much as I’d like to put a bullet in your head myself, the Agency has other plans for you.”

  Fallon sat on the ledge of the cliff, crossed his legs, made himself comfortable. “They’re going to have to find me first,” he said. “Too bad they don’t know the tunnels inside these caves like I do. They go off in a dozen different directions. It’s one reason Joseph and I chose this little piece of heaven to call home. So we could get out in a hurry, in case someone like you came snooping around. By the time they find this cave, I’ll be history.” He stood. “Well, gotta go. Time’s a wasting. I really wish we could have spent more time together, Martin. I rather enjoyed our conversation. Come to think about it, the last time I saw you there really wasn’t much time to chat either, was there?”

  “Go to hell, Fallon.”

  “Oh, relax, Martin. No need to be so bitter. There’s no reason we can’t leave things on a high note. Besides, we can both honestly say some of our fondest memories are the ones we share.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Fucking your wife, of course.”

  Martin struggled with his good arm to reach the ledge of the cliff. “You’re a dead man, Fallon!” he yelled.

  “Maybe one day,” Fallon replied, “but not today. See you around.”

  From behind him came a menacing growl... thick, low, guttural.

  “Goddamn wolves,” Fallon muttered. He drew his gun, chambered a round, then turned, expecting to face the wild animal. Instead, he was surprised to see a golden retriever crouched in front of him, teeth bared, jowl quivering, eyes afire. “What the hell?” he said.

  Martin recognized the growl. “Maggy!” he yelled. “Action!”

  Immediately, the dog responded to the command as her years of police training had taught her.

  Gun…

  Danger…

  Protect…

  Action!

  Maggy bounded forward as Fallon raised his gun to shoot. Too late, the retriever struck him hard in the chest with her powerful front legs, then chased him down, forcing him backward, sinking her teeth deep into his skin, first his arm, next his leg. Fallon dropped his weapon. As though sensing the nearness to the edge of the cliff, Maggy pressed ahead in her attack. Fallon fell backwards, his arms clutching helplessly at the air as he toppled off the cliff. He screamed as he fell past Martin and landed with a sickening thud on the rocks below. Maggy peered over the ledge, saw her master, and whined.

  “It’s okay, girl,” Martin said. He stretched his good arm up towards the ledge. “Maggy… Retrieve.”

  Maggy reached down, sunk her teeth into the sleeve of Martin’s jacket, dug her paws into the ground, and backed up until Martin had cleared the edge of the cliff and rolled onto the ledge. Breathless, he lay on his back. Maggy licked the dirt off his face with her warm, wet tongue.

  “Thanks, fur face,” Martin said. At the sound of her master’s voice, Maggy whined excitedly and licked faster still.

  “Okay, okay!” Martin laughed. “I agree. Let’s get out of here.”

  Raines met Martin on the trail beside the Twins. His face was cut, bleeding badly.

  “You okay?” Martin asked.

  “Yeah, I think so.” The operative pointed toward the ridge. “Bastards have the woods booby-trapped. I was up there, following you. Next thing I knew, I was flat on my back. Must have hit a trip wire. Damn branch nearly took my head off. Sorry, Martin. Guess I screwed up.”

  “Forget about it,” Martin said. “What about Claire and Amanda? Are they all right?”

  “A little upset, but none the worse for wear,” Raines replied.

  “And Krebeck?”

  “Dead. Fallon killed him.”

  “Proof there is a God,” Martin said. “Son of a bitch got what he deserved.”

  Raines nodded. “No argument here.”

  72

  IN THE DISTANCE, the helicopter came alive. Its engine whined. A strobe light flashed on its underbelly.

  “Sounds like the assault team is moving out,” Martin said.

  “Local cops and paramedics are on the way,” Dan replied. “Mark insisted Mr. Stone be airlifted to hospital. Poor bastards lost a lot of blood. Keeps drifting in and out of consciousness.”

  “Is he going to make it?”

  “Yeah, he should be fine.”

  Martin ran along the path towards the clearing, yelled back. “I need to get to that chopper before it takes off.”

  73

  CLAIRE THREW HER arms around Martin as he and Maggy reached the helicopter.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “I guess so.”

  “Did you find Fallon?”

  “More like Fallon found me.”

  “And?”

  “Dead,” Martin replied. He looked down at the dog. “If it weren’t for Maggy, I’d be the one lying at the foot of the mountain. She saved my life.”

  Claire knelt, kissed the retriever on her forehead. “Thank you, girl,” she said. Maggy panted, chuffed.

  Oyama walked towards Martin. “Pike’s men are recovering Fallon’s body,” he said. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Good,” Mark said. “Give me a minute. I better help Pike wrap this up. He can get statements from both of you later. Take Claire and Amanda and leave. You all could use some rest and a good hot meal.”

  “Thanks. We’ll do that.”

  “Ain’t nobody leavin’ until I’ve had the chance to say goodbye,” Earl Bentley called out. He walked over to Martin and Claire. “What’d I tell ya, little lady? Never mess with the code.”

  Claire smiled. She gave the old trucker a hug, kissed him on the cheek. “I don’t know what else to say except thank you. You put your life on the line for us, Earl. That’s more than anyone could ever ask for.”

  “Wasn’t nothin,” Bentley replied. “But if the wife ever found out what I did, she’d probably kill me herself.” Martin and Claire laughed. “Speaking of my wife,” Bentley continued, “she’s probably wondering where the hell I’ve gotten to. Guess I better be on my way.”

  Martin smiled. “You sure you can find your way out?” he asked.

  Bentley glared at Martin, winked at Claire. “Mile marker 14.5. Through the woods on your left. Follow the broken branches and trail markers. Geez, junior. Didn’t ya l
earn anything I taught ya tonight?”

  Martin laughed as he watched the old man walk towards the woods. “You have no idea,” he called out. “Thanks, Earl. You can back me up any day.”

  Martin turned to Claire and kissed her. “Let’s get out of here,” he said. “We’ve seen enough of this place to last a lifetime.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Claire replied as they watched the helicopter lift into the air.

  74

  MARTIN KNOCKED ON the door to Claire’s room. She opened it quietly.

  “How did you sleep?” he asked.

  “Pretty good, I guess,” Claire replied. No bad dreams, she thought. For the first time in years, no nightmares.

  Martin glanced into the room. “And Amanda?”

  “Not so good, I’m afraid. She tossed and turned all night. But I guess that’s to be expected after what she’s just been through.”

  Martin was dressed in his jacket and jeans. At his feet lay an overnight bag. Claire glanced at the clock. 9:00 A.M.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “The airport. I’ll be back in a few days.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I’ve booked a flight to Uganda. I’m going to look for Melanie.”

  Claire stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her. “Let me come with you,” she said.

  “Don’t be silly, Claire,” Martin replied. “You’ve just found your sister after being apart for years. You don’t want to come with me.”

  “Yes, Martin, I do,” Claire replied. “If it weren’t for you, I would never have found Amanda. Now it’s my turn to repay the favor. Let me help you find your daughter. Besides, Justin and Cynthia strongly suggested I limit my contact with her for the next couple of weeks to give them time to do their jobs.”

  “Yes. They’ll need to take her through a de-programming process.”