by K Alexander
"Thank you."
To her credit the doctor does not pronounce it a pleasure. She replaces the kit and looks out of the window until it is too dark to see before she straightens in her seat and takes a sip of water. When the packet of jerky rustles Ryan suppresses a smile.
"You stole the jerky."
"Sure. Did you want me to hold up the boy for it instead?"
There is silence as Claire chews. Ryan stretches the fingers of her newly bandaged hand contemplatively before she speaks.
"Do you know how far the border is from here?"
Claire shifts to look at the soldier. "Canada?" When Ryan simply nods at her slow question she shakes her head at herself. "Of course Canada. You're not taking a northern detour to Mexico. I really can't say for sure. 200 miles, perhaps?"
"Closer to 100, I think."
Claire is careful not to antagonize the woman, and so speaks as evenly as she can. "When you get to the border, what are you going to do with me?"
"Drive about another 100 miles and then drop you." The woman's hoarse voice is factual. "I've told you before, if you don't do anything stupid you'll be fine."
"All right. What will you do then, if I may ask?"
"You may not."
They drive in silence; Ryan taking occasional sips from the can of soda. The area surrounding the road has flattened out, and it is too dark now to see the mountains, which must be visible to the left. When Claire begins to talk again Ryan is not surprised.
"Were you sick recently?"
"No." In the darkness Ryan frowns. "Why?"
"Your voice. You sound as if you had a cold."
"I didn't."
"Then… "
"No." The interruption is immediate. Sighing, Claire picks at the label on her water bottle.
"Ryan, just tell me. We're going to be in the car for a while."
"You've sure lost your apprehension of me." Ryan's voice is dry. "I don't know if I like it."
"I haven't. I'm still scared of you. But if you're trying to distract me I want to know why."
There is a heavy silence, and just as Claire thinks that she will have no answer the soldier speaks up.
"It's what you sound like when you've screamed for three days nonstop, doctor."
"At Fairwater?"
"No. Before."
"Oh." Claire senses by the tone of the answer that this is not an avenue to pursue right now. She changes tack. "I didn't peg you for a screamer." Immediately her face flushes as she realizes the implications of her words, but when Ryan answers it is with no trace of humor.
"Some things are better tolerated that way."
A smooth soft number from Dido plays on the radio and Claire lets the soothing voice wash over her as she considers the woman next to her. Much of her panic has disappeared, mostly the doing of her persistent nature; the soldier has turned out to be far less hostile than she would have imagined her. If she were to be honest she would have to admit that this is a brilliant case study, and if she believes Ryan in the fact that she will be released without being harmed, the information she can glean from this woman is invaluable.
The only matter to take into account is her approach - she cannot afford to stir animosity in her captor. Quietly she sips at her water and allows more silence to creep in before she draws one foot under her and makes herself comfortable in the corner.
"Ryan? When you were trying to get yourself released from Fairwater, why didn't you ask Vice-Admiral Banks for help?"
It takes the soldier a moment to respond. "What?"
"He seems to hold you in very high regard - I can't imagine that he wouldn't have done what he could."
"Who?"
"Vice-Admiral Banks." Though she is impatient and it shows in her tone, Ryan doesn't appear to notice.
"I think you have the wrong name."
Claire purses her lips and frowns. "No, I'm sure that's right. Victor Banks. He said you were in Rwanda together in '90 or… "
"'91." Ryan says it slowly, drawing out the numbers. "What does he look like, Walsch?"
"About five ten, gray hair, gray eyes, beard… What's the matter, Ryan?"
"Victor Banks?" There is definite confusion in her voice. It startles Claire when she suddenly pulls to the side of the road and stops.
"Ryan?"
When there is no answer she switches on the overhead light to see the other woman leaning on the steering wheel with both arms, her eyes distant. Claire repeats her name a second time, and when the piercing green eyes fix on her the soldier is scowling, a somewhat bewildered expression on her face. Leaning forward Claire carefully reaches out and almost touches her arm.
"Ryan?"
"Why was he there?" The woman stares at Claire, her eyes unmoving as she deliberates. "Did he say what he was doing there?"
"I don't understand. I thought it was a given that the army would be keeping you under observation."
"Yes, they do. But Victor's never been involved in that… We were personal friends… We only served together in Rwanda and in …" her voice hardens, "Somalia. Was he wearing a uniform?"
"Yes. I don't understand what the problem is, Ryan. Maybe he was assigned your case after you went in."
Ryan is speaking precisely. "Vice-Admiral Tom Cooper told me some time last year that Victor retired in 2003." When she starts the Trailblazer again her jaw is set. Pulling back onto the road she switches off the overhead light. "May I have some of your water, please?"
"Sure. Here." Claire passes the bottle over. "What's going on, Ryan?"
"I don't know." Unscrewing the cap the soldier takes a sip from the bottle before she passes it back. "I think I'll take a small detour."
5.
The men in black move stealthily through the trees. When they come upon the second house and find the same situation they are forced to inspect the property before they can continue their tracking. This time the small man is not so amused. They track onwards and when they come upon the third house they check the perimeter before they begin to inspect the building. If they had been less meticulous the newly closed window would have escaped their attention - as it is it takes them a while to note it.
Whilst two men continue onwards to the garage the other two flank the back door as the fifth picks the lock dexterously. Inside, the surfaces are spotless and nothing seems out of place. They secure the downstairs area before moving up the stairs in shadowy sequence, bursting into each room at the top in turn and finding nothing. The man who is in the bathroom studying the sink suddenly speaks.
"Blood in the sink, looks like."
A second man joins him to peer at the porcelain, nodding in agreement. At that moment the third speaks from the bedroom.
"Cuffs on the floor."
They congregate around the two separate cuffs lying on the carpet, the pin still attached to one, and then move downstairs. One of the men has come in from outside.
"Bad news. Looks like there was a vehicle in the garage."
The small man nods and lifts his radio to his mouth. "Alpha, come in."
The radio crackles to life. "Alpha here."
"She's taken a vehicle from a residence."
"Right. Give me your GPS co-ordinates." The small man complies. "Get yourselves to the road, Sierra, I'm picking you up in ten."
"Affirmative."
When the van stops and the door slides open the four men get into the back. Sierra walks around and gets into the passenger seat. Alpha nods in greeting.
"She's messing us around."
"Not for long." Sierra indicates his chin at the road. "Which way is she going?"
Alpha starts the van. "Choteau."
------ The music gradually changes to a smooth nature and Claire finds herself nodding off more than once. Each time as she spirals down she has flashes of being dragged through the woods, her hands tied, and then she startles and sits up in an effort to remain awake. After her head jerks for what feels like the thousandth time Ryan speaks up, her voice low.
"Go to sleep."
"I'm not tired." Stubbornly she clings to watchfulness, though the escape and consequent events have exhausted her, not to mention the myriad of emotions that still swirl inside her.
Ryan gives a soft chuckle. "Every time your head jerks you're ruining the fuel efficiency with added resistance." Her right hand reaches down and feels for the lever at the side of Claire's seat, finding it and reclining the chair. "Relax. Nothing's going to happen. Go to sleep."
And in spite of her fight against it Claire does drop off, falling into a light slumber as they turn right into Pendroy Road. They pass through Conrad, where aside from the streetlights it is dark, and back onto 15 north, crossing the train tracks.
Between Conrad and Shelby Ryan pulls over quietly and studies the sleeping profile next to her for some time. She can tell that Claire is genuinely slumbering from her breathing pattern, and when she has assured herself that the woman will not wake up soon, she too tries to sleep. She has been drinking the caffeinated soda to keep her exhausted and drained body from collapsing, and now, ironically, it is working too well. Instead of sleeping she lays back and stares into the dark sky, wiling away the thoughts and imagines that churn in her mind. She knows that she is definitely being traced, but at this point she also knows that she cannot drive any more without endangering her own life and that of her passenger. Ryan is a lot of things, but she is not negligent or careless.
Thinking of Claire she turns her head, though it is too dark to see much in the blue reflection of the car radio's luminous lights. The woman is more resilient than she had imagined her to be at first, when she was mostly whimpering and begging. In fact the doctor's demeanor has changed from apprehensive and nervous to slightly more self-possessed, and with the conditions as they are, Ryan appreciates the strength that that must take. Under different circumstances they would probably have liked one another, she thinks abstractedly.
When Claire wakes up she stretches as much as the interior of the vehicle will allow her to, realizing as she does that she is actually feeling very rested and refreshed. Her first glance through the windshield shows a breathtaking sight; the sun is rising on the horizon and is still at that bright red phase, touching everything around it with a shimmer of crimson. Her second glance is not as charming: the soldier is raging outside, a fair distance from the Trailblazer as she trudges around jacketless in the cold early morning air. From the motion of her bare head - Claire glances to find the cap lying on the seat beside her - she is talking to herself angrily. Her hands are rigid at her side, and occasionally she raises one to her head and cups the back of her skull with it before she yanks her hand away in apparent fury. Feeling somehow intrusive and suddenly more fearful again at the sight of this person she has been held hostage by, Claire turns away just as Ryan folds double and drops to her knees, heaving up the scant things in her stomach.
The doctor is pondering the possibility of escape, but her door is still locked. To climb over the seats to the back door would prove a critical delay, and to exit from the driver's seat had certainly not worked for her the last time. She weighs up, quickly and competently, the pros and cons of the situation, and decides that it would be more dangerous to attempt to flee - and rile the soldier - than it would be to wait for a better opportunity. Panic drives people to take stupid risks, she knows that better than anybody, and so she calmly takes a mint to remove the fuzzy taste from her mouth before she drinks the last of her water.
When she next glances up the soldier is at the driver's door and slipping into her seat. Her skin is pale and from her exhausted eyes it is clear that she has slept little, if at all. Slipping the cap back onto her shaven head Ryan takes a mint, too, before she drinks the rest of her soda.
"Good morning." Claire does not think she is going to get a reply, as the woman puts on the sunglasses and starts the SUV. When she turns the key again to shut the engine off the doctor glances at her questioningly.
"Would you like to stretch your legs before we go?"
At the unexpected question Claire smiles before she nods. "Yes. Please."
Ryan gets out again and walks around to her side. When she opens the door she leans on it with her forearms. "Will it be necessary to tie your hands?"
"No. It won't." Claire looks into her eyes. "I won't do anything."
"Good. I don't feel like chasing anybody." Closing the door behind the doctor with a trace of chivalry that has Claire raising her eyebrows, Ryan strolls to the front of the vehicle and lifts herself onto the hood, stretching out her legs as she leans back. "Take your time."
Five minutes later they are on the road. A sign passes them by, indicating that they have 8 miles to go before they reach Shelby. Feeling rather revitalized Claire changes the radio station to a more upbeat one before she speaks over the music to the soldier.
"Ryan? Why are you getting sick so much? Is there something wrong?"
The woman shakes her head. "No. It's the tranquilizers they shot me full of, the day before you came. It's fine. They're just working themselves out of my system."
"Ryan, this morning when… "
"Don't." The soldier shoots her a cool look. "It's not something I want to discuss."
"All right. I'm sorry." Claire is feeling bold today, knowing that she is so much more refreshed and alert than the woman beside her. "Will you tell me how you got your medal?"
Frowning, Ryan checks her rearview mirror. "I would have imagined that my file has that information in it."
Claire nods. "It does - the articles from the newspapers and magazines. But none of it is very specific. I'd like a first-hand account."
"I don't think you would." Ryan slows down as they enter the town's perimeters.
"I would like to know." The doctor hazards a try. "And I think you want to tell me."
"Psychology will get you in trouble, doctor Walsch."
Between Maple and Third Avenue Ryan pulls into a parking space and takes the coins out of the ashtray, slipping them into her oversized pocket. "I'll tell you later. Right now I need to make a call." Getting out of the SUV she walks around to Claire's side and opens the door. "Come on." When Claire gets out of the vehicle Ryan grips her arm lightly. There is a bruise from the previous episode, and she struggles not to twist her still sensitive arm from the woman's grasp.
"There are a lot of people about, Walsch. Please don't draw attention to yourself."
"I'm sorry. My arm hurts. From last night."
The soldier glances down, her sunglasses a solid shield. "I'm sorry." Stepping around to the other side she grasps Claire's left arm instead. They walk together, the two of them, to the old phone booth standing in the middle of the sidewalk, and Ryan leads Claire in first. Closing the door behind them she slots in the coins and dials a number from memory. When she speaks her voice is pitched slightly higher.
"Hello, may I speak to LuAnn in administrative? … Oh? She's not? … All right, is Tracy available? … Thank you very much, I'll hold." She waits for a minute and then presses down on the level to end the call before she dials again. This time when she speaks her voice is light, with a singsong quality to it. "Hello, can you put me through to the records department, please? Thank you… Hello, whom am I speaking with? Anna? … Hi, Anna, it's Tracy from admin in Baker, how are you? … Great, great - listen, I have a problem here; postal keeps returning one of yours' mail with an RTS on it… yeah, it's Vice-Admiral V. Banks… Victor… that's right, the scoundrel… well, I did try Edna, but she's not in the office… all right… " She waits patiently for a moment. "Okay, so that's … 67 River Street, Fort Benton… Is that right? … I sure do hope so… Okay, I owe you a box of chocolates, Anna … you too… take care."
She puts down the telephone to find Claire staring at her in amazement.
"What? Let's go."
The soldier slips open the door and grips Claire's arm, a little lighter this time, but when the doctor moves in the direction of the Trailblazer Ryan leads her down the street ins
tead. She scouts the shops lining the sidewalk and when she sees a coffee shop she pulls Claire in behind her. The gawky waiter enthusiastically approaches them with menus, but Ryan waves them away. "Two cups of filter coffee, please. Do you have a bathroom?"
The waiter points out a swinging door in the corner and the soldier leads Claire through them to the ladies' bathroom beyond. As Ryan released her arm the blonde looks around at her.