by T V Scribner
"Here's why," he said, "because while they're trying to find us from the air, I'm pretty sure they've also sent a ground party to hunt us down, and they're probably already hot on our trail."
“You have this all figured out, don't you?” she said hotly, "Meanwhile we don't actually know what's happening—you're just guessing!"
Stumbling on a vine she was about to take a dive, until Boone grabbed her arm, in time to arrest her fall. Stopping, with his hand still tightly gripping her arm, he spun her towards him and looked her in the eyes, his voice, as serious as, the look in his eyes, "I know this has to be figured out, but in the meantime, it could mean the difference between life and death, if we don't take precautions."
She stared him down. "Are you saying that we could be...killed?"
With a graveness in his voice she hadn't heard before, he answered, "I'm saying, just that…these guys aren’t fooling around, so I’d rather err on the side of caution."
”Okay, now I'm really scared!" she said.
"Sorry," he added, "but this is a serious situation, and they're not here to play hide-and-seek, so please listen to me, follow directions, and trust me."
Chastised, she meekly nodded her assent, and they continued to plunge through the undergrowth for the next half hour. Pausing at the base of a cluster of oak trees, he stood still and listened for a minute. Finally, the rain had turned to a light mist.
"But how do you know they're searching for us?" she said, as if the previous conversation hadn't ended thirty minutes ago. “I’m wet and cold.”
"Trust me, I know. Hearing the helicopter's rotors, my instincts told me it was no coincidence that a copter just happened to be flying around in this area, in a dangerous storm, with search lights, unless they were looking for someone! I think these characters are capable of anything, if they have that kind of air power at their command!”
Confused, she waited a beat, then said, "But who are they, and why are they after us?"
“No more questions.” Instead, he took her hand to help her over a particularly large fallen tree, as they navigated down the steep slope, around other fallen trees and large boulders, buried in the dense undergrowth, slippery from the wet algae on their surfaces. They half-slid, half-ran, down a declivity into an area populated with giant oaks, birch, tamarack and jack pines, which pierced the thick undergrowth, and towered into the night.
Dense vegetation slowed them considerably, blocking attempts to determine where they were headed. The sky wasn't visible through the canopy of leaves, which acted as a giant umbrella, protecting them from the mist and intermittent drizzle. Paisley felt fatigued, as they slogged along in silence, for what seemed like hours, until her injuries began to slow her down. She was thirsty and hungry, despite the large meal they ate earlier that night—which seemed like a lifetime ago.
She slowed, stopped walking, and asked, "Are we there yet?" Seeing her fatigue, Boone found a sheltered area where they could rest again, then stopped, and she eased herself onto a large rock.
"I hope you fill me in, on the who-and-why part," Boone said, as he watched her take off her shoes one at a time to dump out a little muddy water. Surprisingly, there had been no complaints from her, about her shoe plight. He didn't share her shoe predicament, because of his high-top boots.
Folding her arms, she said, "So, we're back on that topic again. Why would I know?" Her frustration was now raising its ugly head, a result of exhaustion and discomfort from weather and injuries.
"Because somehow, as I said, this is tied to you…and me," he added quickly, "but mostly you, and I need to know why."
"I don't see how," she said, "what information would I possibly have? May I have a sip of water, please?" she asked, still using her manners, even under difficult circumstances.
Handing her the bottle of water from his backpack, she drank more than a sip, before she handed it back, and wiped her mouth with her dirty sleeve. Boone took a couple of swings before sitting down on an adjoining rock, put the water back in his backpack, then pulled out a couple of protein bars, and handed one to her. He ate his slowly, while they sat in silence, each with their own thoughts.
When he finished, he took the time to put the empty wrappers back into his backpack, before saying, "Referring to our previous conversation again, sorry if I was a little harsh, but I want you to think carefully, to see if there's something—anything—a phone number, a picture you've seen…fill in the blank. Perhaps you overheard a conversation, received an odd telephone call that you didn't think much about at the time?"
"Nothing, comes to mind.” She wondered where the forest animals were—probably in a warm nest—she was jealous.
"Your Aunt and Uncle are Russian...could there be a connection there?"
She leapt off the tree stump, albeit painfully, and said, "Not at all! How dare you even suggest my Aunt is connected, or my Uncle!"
"Calm down, I'm only throwing ideas out," he regretted his remarks. He stood, donning his backpack, and helping her up, he said, “Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. Friends?"
She didn’t answer, although she felt he did say it with sincerity.
"We need to make tracks out of here, Ingles.”
After they walked for a few minutes, she reluctantly said, "Okay, apology accepted. I'll search my memory for an answer," and she fell in lock step behind him, as he shoved his way through the soggy brush and small saplings, creating a path forward.
Paisley was hurting all over. She limped, and her head still ached, from the car accident. Nonetheless, she soldiered ahead, not wanting him to think she was a wimp. Finally she decided it was time to speak her mind, and broke the silence, "Now I have a few questions for you."
"Oh?" He smiled, despite the fact they were beginning to climb uphill, and waited, curious about what she would ask.
"Well, for one thing, I don't feel you're actually, who you say you are.” There--she said it! "My guess is somehow, you are with the CIA, FBI, or some other covert organization, and you were sent here under false pretenses, I might add, to be a part of our police department, to either spy on us, help us in some covert way, or as cover for something else. Why? I haven't the foggiest!"
Smiling again, although she couldn't see it, since she walked behind him, he responded, "Now, if you would only put that much thought into what I asked you, we'd be fine! Anyway, we need to move a little faster, to stay ahead of them, or we'll be in real trouble!"
Boone panted, as he grasped for clumps of well-rooted weeds and small branches to help boost himself up the ever-increasing steepness of the hillside. He had to admit, that despite her injuries, she certainly kept up well. She's a smart one he thought, and not to be underestimated.
"I'm working on it," she said, noting that he didn't respond to her suppositions about him, but merely changed the subject. Nice dodge!
"If you need to rest again, we can do that. I think we've covered enough ground, over the last hour."
Boone stopped, as they had reached an overhang in the rocks, so he ducked through the weeds, which marginally covered the opening, to check for critters, but found none. However, he did wonder how she'd feel about the spiders?
"All clear," he said and invited Ingles into the cave-like recess, pushing a large rock her way and said, "Have a seat!" He watched, as she ducked in, and positioned herself on the rock, and if she did notice the spiders, she didn't react.
"Thinking about what you said earlier,” she began, “if I recount the details of everything that happened, from the day I found the body, maybe there'll be a clue in my narrative?"
"I'll help you zero in on things," he said, and removed his backpack, as he sat on the ground.
"Oh, really!"and was about to disagree, when a thunderous clap of thunder startled them both, when a nearby bolt of lightning lit up the sky and the rain began to pour, once more.
"Yes, here's what I think," she said, once they recovered from the storm's sudden interruption.
“Yes, what do you th
ink?”
Taking out his bottle of water again, he took a swig, and offered it to her. "Maybe you stumbled onto something they want, which is the reason they ransacked your Aunt's house, went to your office, and in desperation, tried to run you off the road. Maybe they even want to kill you, because of whatever it is that they think you know?"
“You're joking! What reason would they possibly have, to go that far?”
"We don't know what they're capable of, and we can't leave it to chance!"
She took a moment to ruminate on his theory, "Okay, I was there when the body was found, but in your office, we investigated the victim, and we looked over the fingerprints, I accompanied you to the autopsy, I identified the tattoo, and we interviewed Ben, Zolotov and Yury. I was about to comb through Kamorov's subpoenaed computer, but we had another murdered Russian, to investigate!”
"Can't disagree with you on any of those statements," Boone replied.
"Maybe it's you they're after, just as much as me!" She was over it, for the moment, as she stared out the cave's opening, into the darkness of the rainy night. Despite herself, she enjoyed the earthy smell of the wet dirt.
“I’m getting colder,” she said, "even though I'm wearing my raincoat…it’s soaked!” and her teeth began to chatter.
"Move over here with me, and we'll lean together for warmth and try to sleep for a half hour, before heading out again."
She didn't argue, as she moved next him, asking, "What time is it?"
He looked at his watch for the first time, while he set an alarm. "It's almost 1:00 a.m., on Saturday."
"That's all? It seems like we've been walking for days, and it feels like it’s turning colder!"
Paisley shyly rested her head on his shoulder, while he pulled a poncho from his backpack to pull over both of them, and looked down at her, amused as she was already out. He listened to her snore quietly. Smiling, he leaned his head on his backpack, then dozed off. A half hour later, he roused Ingles and handed her a poncho from his backpack.
"Why didn't you hand these out earlier?"
"Because we were already wet, these are to keep us warm, if possible," and donning their ponchos, they crawled from their hiding place into the steady drizzle.
They hadn't traveled far when Paisley said, "Wait!" Suddenly she stopped walking, and excitedly announced, "I know why!"
CHAPTER 28
Saturday, May 20, 2017
Cayuna Iron Range
Boone stopped abruptly and spun to look at her, "What?"
"A flash drive. It must be the flash drive! I found a flash drive at Ben's Burgers by the door to the freezer where the body was found!”
Looking at her with a blank expression, he said, "Okay, please explain! Tell me, while we keep moving."
As they continued trudging along, she briefed him on the flash drive and her attempt to discover its owner, by opening it, only to discover that it was secured by an advanced encryption algorithm.
"Finally, I was able to decipher the password, about the time I was supposed to be meeting you for dinner, at Casa Café,” she began relaying the technical details of how she did it, but he told her to wait until they were back at his place.
"Remember? I already mentioned technology was not my strength," he said.
"But listen to this! After I opened the drive, I saw ten files, nine in English, with the tenth one encrypted, which is why it presented a problem for me."
Boone said, "Bingo! I bet that's it! When we are back at my place, I have a friend that can decipher anything."
“Excuse, me? I managed to figure out the password all by myself—it was chemodan, in Russian. Then I looked up the translation, which means luggage or suitcase, and I thought it was weird, so it made me curious about the document in the file.”
"And you never told all this to me?"
“Well, I didn't really have enough information! The documents in the file, would need decryption too, but—there was a JPEG included—a picture of a crude map and a couple of area names in English, which I recognized, like Brainerd, and Cayuna. Because I had to leave work to meet you, I didn't have enough time to work on it! I’m out of breathe,” she said, “can we stop talking and slow down?”
"Dave Kaufman, can decipher it for us," Boone said.
Paisley responded sarcastically, "So…we need Dave? The decryption expert?"
Catching her condescending tone, he changed the subject and said, "Right now, let's figure out how to get out of this predicament."
Boone came to a halt and listened carefully. "Do you hear that?" He stood still, listening.
"Not again!" She listened, "...hear what? You're always hearing things! All I can hear is..." and she was interrupted.
"Shhhh...listen!"
Rolling her eyes, she stood very still, and thought, what now?
"I hear the faint bark, of dogs in the distance," he whispered.
"Your ears are better than mine, because I only heard the wind in the trees."
"Move it!" he said urgently.
"You got it!" and she obeyed, wondering what the hurry was, as they both picked up the pace. "Sounds like thunder again," she added.
"Uh-oh! We may be trapped!" As they struggled upward, he said, “The way the ground drops off, it looks like a canyon rim might be up ahead, and I don't know if it's a short drop, or not. If it drops off sharply, we'll be trapped, but with the dogs approaching from our rear, we have no other choice, but to move forward."
They continued to scurry towards the rim until they were almost to its crest, and as they neared the edge, he realized the loud roar they began to hear was not thunder, but the rotors of a black copter rising over the rim of the cliff, from the canyon below. Boone knew at that moment, it was game-over, as the searchlight from the copter washed over them, bathing them in its brightness.
The dogs continued closing in, while the copter trained guns and the spot light on them, as they stood near the edge of the cliff, which fell off, to the lake below.
"Aha! One of the many mine pits for which the Cayuna Range is famous," he uttered sardonically, as he squinted through the drizzle, into the lake, which sparkled with the reflected light, from the copter's spot light.
"What are you talking about?" She yelled, in fear and frustration.
"Just a little history lesson Ingles, while we're waiting for these thugs," he yelled back, over the noise of the rotors.
“I can’t see—the light is too bright, and I can barely hear you...," she yelled!
"When mining operations ceased, and the mines closed in the early 60s and 70s, they filled most of them with water, and many of the old mine pits were turned into recreational areas. Still, there are many, further away from the beaten path, and harder to reach…apparently this is one of them." He was irked at this turn of events!
Boone raised his hands, so Paisley did likewise, "Now don't say a word,” he yelled, “let me do the talking, if they ask questions."
"Okay." She nodded her head, still puzzled over why he would give a mine pit speech, when they were obviously in danger. ”I’m scared, Boone," she yelled back.
Four men converged on them from the shadows of the dense forest below the ridge, where Boone and Paisley stood. The men tried to gain control of the barking dogs, straining on their leashes. Without a word, two of the men approached and confiscated Boone's backpack, gun and knife, then patted both down, for any other weapons they might be carrying. Paisley characteristically, rolled her eyes, when they patted her down, but didn’t dare say anything!
Finding nothing else, the men bound both of them, with plastic ties, pulled hoods over their heads, and then prodded them towards the helicopter, which had landed in a small clearing. Their captors unceremoniously shoved them inside the heli, and pushed them to the back, leaving them sprawled on the copter’s floor. Neither one said a word, nor did the men.
The rotors turned, and accelerated until lift was attained, causing the copter to rise into the low-hanging storm clouds. Over
the noise of the rotors, Paisley whispered to Boone in the lowest, calmest tone she could muster, "Now what?"
Answering in hushed tones also, he said, "Patience…we'll get out of this."
Of course, he was right! She felt better— she would trust Boone. They flew the rest of the way in silence. When one of the men moved to the back to keep watch on them, Boone slowly inched over, so he could move his cuffed hands close enough to Paisley's side, to tap a Morse Code message saying, "It'll be OK,” and hoped it would comfort her, if she knew the code.
She carefully leaned towards him and gently bumped him with her sore shoulder, in response. The man who guarded them, was none the wiser. She tried her best to discern where they were going, but it was no use, as there were zero points of reference. Instead, she attempted to guess the time it took, to arrive at their destination, by counting out the minutes.
She wondered if Boone was doing something similar. As far as she could tell, the copter had been flying about thirty or forty minutes when she felt it descend. There was a slight bump, jostling them as it touched down, and a few minutes later, the rotors slowed to a stop, and silence prevailed. During the entire trip, the men in front had not uttered a word.
Her heart raced again, as she wondered what was in store for them, and she didn't have to wait long. The door opened and several men pulled them from the helicopter, onto the ground. Paisley tried not to make a sound, even though it hurt her damaged shoulder when she landed. With their hoods still in place, they were yanked to their feet. The men pushed and shoved them forward, until they were stopped.
The sound of a rusty metal door groaning on its hinges, assaulted their ears, as both of them were shoved through an opening, and with a grating sound, the door closed behind them. They stood on a wooden floor for a moment, until the men pushed them forward another fifteen feet, and stopped them once more. Still, no one said a word, so neither did Boone, or Paisley. They stood still listening to the footfalls of heavy boots shuffling around. Paisley felt she would go crazy, if someone didn't say something! Could Boone be just as maddened, by their silence? She doubted it.