Dead Secret

by Peter Kozmar

  “I’ll wait,” the pilot said as he started to go through the shutdown procedure. Andy climbed out of the helicopter and made for the small wooden hut which had a tin roof and small metal chimney. He had to tread carefully to avoid the worst of the mud along the path.

  Arriving at the wooden steps to the hut, he quickly bound up them onto the deck and made for the old wooden door. The door opened into an communal living space with a small kitchen area with three double gas burner cookers around the walls and a large table in the middle. A drying rack had been raised above the cast iron wood burner which Andy could feel was still kicking out heat from the night before. The large dining table had long wooden benches along each side.

  Andy looked to the left where there were sleeping platforms across both walls. Andy stepped further into the hut to check if it was occupied. The sleeping platforms were on two levels with sturdy wooden ladders giving access to the top platform. Pale-blue plastic mattresses were pushed up against the walls, allowing them to air. There were no signs of anyone using the hut. Looking for clues, Andy studied the kitchen and dining area. His eyes fixed on the hut logbook.

  Andy opened the book to the most recent entry which came from the previous day. Three hikers had stayed the night and were heading back down to the Mount Holdsworth carpark, their planned route via the mountain tops and Powell Hut. Andy envied them, they’d have a great time high on the mountains in the fine, clear weather.

  There were more entries from the previous week: groups passing either from Powell, staying the night and descending to the carpark or taking the route of the group who’d just left. The previous month someone had reached the hut from Mitre Flats via Mitre Peak, the highest peak in the Tararuas.

  Looking further back into the book he found three different entries with Mark’s name from a few months earlier. Andy was happy to see Mark’s name and have a momentary connection with him through the familiarity of his writing. With nothing more to learn at the hut, Andy headed back to the helicopter.

  “Any luck?” the pilot enquired. Andy shook his head as he buckled himself in again. The pilot quickly spun up the rotors and they were soon above the mountain tops heading towards Powell Hut. Within minutes Andy spotted three hikers who he assumed were the ones detailed in the hut log heading in the direction of the hut on the thin dirt trail below.

  “Can we take a closer look?”

  “Sure,” came the reply. The helicopter descended and looped back to the three hikers who stopped and stared at the helicopter, now less than fifty meters above and to their front. None of them were Mark.

  “No, he’s not one of them. Let’s go!” he couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice.

  They climbed and skirted along the mountainside then started their descent. Andy continued to be captivated with the stunning views of the rugged mountain range. The pilot pointed to the valley way below them, “Down there is Totara Flats Hut and further along the valley floor and across the river is Sayers Hut.”

  The helicopter touched down and rested on the landing pad above Powell Hut. The pilot kept the blades turning but frowned as he did so.

  Andy got out and headed through the thigh-high vegetation to the trail which dropped steeply to join a new track leading to the metal steps up to the hut’s main deck. On the large deck, two hikers, a man and a woman, sat on the wooden benches lacing up their scuffed boots. Their large packs were set to the side and looked heavy. They looked like they were in their early twenties.

  Andy spoke first. “Hi.”

  “Hello,” replied the blond female with a German accent.

  “What’s the hut like?” Andy asked.

  “Very good. Very comfortable. We had the place all to ourselves last night. We had the fire on and had a very warm night. Too warm.”

  Her companion spoke next, “We saw a beautiful sunrise this morning. The sun rose over there.” He pointed across the expansive plains which faced the hut.

  “How long have you been here?” Andy asked.

  “We’ve been in the hut for the one night. We’ve been in the hills for the last five days and we head out today.”

  Andy reached into his wallet and produced a photo of Mark which he showed to the two of them. “While you’ve been in the mountains, have you seen this man?” The two of them studied the photo without any hint of recognition. “He’s my son. We’ve a family emergency and I need to speak with him.”

  “No. I’m sorry. We’ve not seen him.”

  “Thanks.” Andy rummaged through his wallet again and dug out a card which had his cell phone number. He handed the card over to the woman. “If you do see him, please hand him my card and ask him to call me.”

  “We will.”

  “Thanks. Enjoy your walk.”

  “Goodbye,” they both replied together.

  Andy turned and retraced his steps down the stairs, along the trail and up the steep slope towards the waiting helicopter. He climbed into his seat, buckled up and placed his headset on. The pilot spoke first.

  “I take it, he wasn’t there?”

  “No, he wasn’t.” Andy sensed from the pilot’s expression something wasn’t right. “Is there a problem?”

  The pilot nodded, “I’ve got an oil pressure warning light. I’ve got to get it checked out.”

  “Can you do that here?”

  “No. I need to fly to the nearest aerodrome and have a mechanic check it.”

  Andy’s mind started to race, his plan to find Mark was starting to unravel. He needed more information. “Where’s the nearest aerodrome?”

  “That’s Hood Aerodrome just outside Masterton. Less than ten minutes from here. I can get a mechanic to meet us there.”

  “What then?”

  “It could be as simple as a dirty sensor,” he replied confidently.

  “Worse case?” Andy asked.

  “A problem with the main rotor gearbox.”

  Not the news Andy wanted to hear. “If it’s the gearbox, how long would it take to fix?”

  The pilot shrugged, “We’d need to get the replacement from our maintenance crew and have it flown in. Could be two or three days if they’ve got the part. A week or two if we have to have it brought in from Oz.”

  Andy grimaced, “Can you fly me down there and drop me off at the next hut?”

  The pilot shook his head, “No. CAA rules mean as soon as I saw the warning light I’ve got to land at the nearest airfield. If I take you down there and something happens, it puts me in the shit and I lose my license. You can either come with me to Hood or you can head down the hill by yourself to get to Totara Flats Hut. If the helicopter is fixed in no time, I’ll meet you down there in a few hours. If it’s grounded, I’ll arrange for another one to come out and get you.”

  Andy didn’t want to leave the area and sit in some drafty hangar doing nothing. In the back of his mind he hoped he’d meet Mark on the track.

  “Is it easy to get the next hut on foot?” Andy asked.

  “Yes it is. Follow the trail down, but there’s quite a few steps at the top. Then you drop down to a shelter called Mountain House about twenty minutes from there is a track junction and the right fork leads down to Totara Flats. The hut is right next to the track.”

  “How long would it take to walk?”

  “You’re travelling pretty light, so four hours to get to the hut and then maybe another hour to get to Sayers”.

  “Okay, I’ll go to Totara Flats hut and then make my way to Sayers. Pick me up from Sayers.”

  “No problem. When?”

  “Say six hours?”

  The pilot looked at his watch. “Sure, I’ll make sure you’re picked up at three-thirty,” the pilot smiled and gave a thumbs up. Andy went into the rear of the cabin and grabbed his small pack out of the locker, he closed the door and dashed back towards the track leading down from the hut and into the bush.

  The high pitched whine from the engine and the rapid beat of the rotors grew faster and louder. Andy stop
ped and turned to watch the helicopter lift into the air and pass over him. The downdraft washed cold air with the scent of aviation fumes over him. The helicopter stayed straight and level for a few moments before it slowly descended as it made its way across the plain. Andy watched until it disappeared into the distance and the sound of its clattering blades faded to silence.

  Andy looked across and saw the two Germans had donned their packs and were about to set off. He waved at them as he set off down the mountain. Andy looked down into the distant valley below to where he was heading. He knew if the helicopter was serviceable he’d already be at the hut. However, he didn’t want to wait for the helicopter to be fixed. There was a small chance he’d bump into Mark while heading down the mountain. Plus, he couldn’t pass on this opportunity to get into the wilderness to see the unspoilt scenery and breathe the crystal-clear air. After a few minutes, Andy paused at the sturdy steps which led down this stretch of the steep mountain, they looked relatively new, but with an uncomfortable drop for each step it made it hard going on his knees.

  Andy soon lost sight of the valley as he entered the mature birch forest. The trees were wrapped in a thick carpet of lichen and mosses. He felt relieved when the steps gave way to an easy-to-follow track, but soon came upon another steep descent and he pounded more wooden steps down the ridgeline.

  A small fortune had been spent maintaining the track and putting in the steps, to reduce erosion by hundreds of hikers who used the track, but he felt it ruined the natural beauty of the area. It didn’t take long before the gradient eased off, the wooden steps now behind him, he approached a compact wooden shelter with a large open porch, with a sign saying, Mountain House, above the open porch.

  The shelter was clean and well maintained, it had a cooking table and bench seats fixed to the walls. Andy stepped inside and read the information panels which described the colorful history of the shelter. With little else for him to see, Andy pressed on. The track from Mountain House was pretty flat, well-maintained and clear of vegetation or windfall which made it easier going.

  Andy soon entered a clearing and found the track junction to Totara Flats. He couldn’t miss the signpost, which had a double seat next to it, Andy took the track to the right which quickly transformed underfoot to become root entwined and deeply rutted. The gradient became very steep. This time there were no steps as Andy slipped and occasionally tripped on the mud and roots. The condition of the trail continued to deteriorate as he pressed further along.

  Unexpectedly, the track veered off to the left and climbed. It looked like a diversion from the original route which had been blocked by cut trees placed across the track. Andy looked around for the orange triangular track markers and saw they followed the direction of the diversion. The track had a steep climb, but at least it wasn’t rutted and had few roots which made for good progress. Aside from the unusual spectacle of the lichens and mosses carpeting the forest floor and wrapped around the trees, the deafening silence struck him. With his exertion and the silence around him, he could hear the regular beat of his blood pumping in his ears.

  After a steep descent, where Andy slipped and stumbled more than once on the slippery roots, he crossed a boulder strewn river via a wire swing bridge which bounced up and down and rocked from side to side with each cautious step. Andy had to hold the sides to steady himself as he carefully placed each step while maintaining his gaze fixed across the bridge to the far side. His head spun each time he looked down below at the rocks and fast flowing white water. On one brief glance he spotted a long, black eel snaking its way through the water near the far bank. The eel looked a good five or six feet in length and over six inches wide. Andy looked up and focused his mind on crossing safely.

  Once clear of the river he approached another clearing before Totara Flats Hut came into view. Andy walked up the steps to the expansive covered deck and made his way to the door to which a polite note reminding hikers to remove their boots before entering the hut. Andy sat on one of the wooden benches and removed his muddy boots.

  The hut had a large, steep, bush clad hill immediately behind it; to its front the deck looked out over a mixture of grass and scrub which led down to the river. To the right, the ground levelled out, with more trees and bush as a track threaded its way along the valley and parallel to the river towards Sayers Hut and beyond to Cone Hut. Andy could imagine that with such a pleasant and peaceful location this would make for a popular hut. He now understood why Mark chose this location as one of his more frequent overnight stops.

  Andy opened the door to the hut and stepped inside to find someone making a brew. They looked up in surprise.

  “Hi Dad!”

  It was Mark.

  CHAPTER 14

  Andy grabbed Mark with both arms, pulled him close, giving him a fierce bear hug.

  “Boy, I am so glad to see you! How are you? Are you okay? Tell me you didn’t ...”

  The questions stopped when he saw a DoC warden nearby rummaging through his bulky backpack. Mark pulled himself free from his dad’s tight grip. “I’m fine thanks! I’ve been here for a few days. As you can see, it’s a remote spot and I like it here.”

  Andy looked around the hut to check that, aside from the warden, there were no other people inside. “You know, if I can find you so can they?” he said in a low voice.

  “You really think they were after me and not the data on our servers which they took?” came Mark’s reply.

  “I don’t know. We need to get you somewhere safer. You are a loose end and professionals don’t like those because they are trouble.”

  “Isn’t this place safe enough?”

  Andy looked at his watch. “There’s going to be a chopper landing down the valley in about an hour-and-a-half. I’m working with the police and the security services, they can protect you until we know you’re safe.” The warden had stopped rummaging in his pack, though Andy sensed he’d been listening in.

  “That’s great. Gives us half an hour to catch up before we need to move. Can I make you a tea or coffee? I’ve got some great chocolate over there,” Mark said pointing to his food and cooking equipment on a bench across from where the warden had set up his cooker.

  “Okay, black coffee, with two sugars, please I need the extra energy.”

  “Sure. Let’s get comfortable.” Andy let Mark lead him towards his cooking gear and gestured for him to sit at a large wooden table.

  The warden busied himself as he prepared to boil a pan of water while trying to give the impression of not being interested in the two men now sharing the hut with him. Andy sat on a solid wooden bench while Mark poured water into a pan before placing it on his small gas cooker. Mark searched his gear for a mug for his dad. The warden turned to Mark, “I take it seeing your dad out here was a big surprise?”

  “It is! We haven’t seen each other in some years. We’d agreed to meet here, I thought we’d arranged for tomorrow. I must have got my dates wrong. So yeah, you could say I had a big surprise.”

  The warden shrugged and turned his cooker off, “I’ve got some possum traps to check. I’ll give you some space while you two catch up and I’ll make my lunch when I get back in half an hour or so.” The warden headed for the door.

  “Thanks.” Through the window they watched the warden tie his boots and walk away. His heavy footsteps thundered on the deck. They had the hut to themselves.

  “What’s going on?” Andy asked.

  Mark looked away, “I’m not sure.”

  “Come on, don’t bullshit a bullshitter. What’s your connection with Brad Trojan at the Embassy?”

  Mark looked embarrassed at being caught out, “At the monitoring station I intercepted a sensitive video.”

  “I’m sure you intercepted sensitive material every day, what was so special about that particular payload?”

  The water started to boil. Mark placed a heaped spoon of instant coffee into each large mug, then two heaped sugars into one of the mugs before he poured the water
into the mugs and slowly stirred them with his tablespoon. He handed a steaming coffee to Andy.

  “The interception came from a secure Russian Government site. The video showed our President with two Russian hookers in a hotel suite in Moscow. The date and time stamp showed it happened before he went into politics. It’s pretty graphic,” Mark sipped his coffee, “that man’s got some stamina.”

  “You’ve watched it?”

  “More than once,” Mark started to blush with embarrassment at confessing to his dad that he’d watched a porn video.

  “What’s Trojan got to do with it? Why did he chase you from the Embassy?”

  “I believed the video was something our Government needed to be aware of so they could prepare for the day when it’s made public – and it will – the Russians will release it to embarrass our President. Maybe even blackmail him with it.”

  “But why chase you?”

  “I’d met Trojan a few times to set-up the handover, I wanted assurances that, should I lose my job at the UN, I’d either be compensated or given an appropriate job in the US Government.”

  “What happened?”

  “He said that they wouldn’t employ a whistle-blower or leaker. Washington was concerned I would be prepared to leak their secrets if I worked for the US Government and they viewed it as a risk. Which led to the topic of compensation. Those discussions dragged on.” Mark sipped his coffee again.

  “When I found everyone murdered in the office I headed for the Embassy to see Trojan to urge him to speed up the deal. He appeared with some goons and said he needed the video before he’d help me. He tried to persuade me to step inside the compound, when I refused, they gave chase. Luckily, I got away. I grabbed my hiking gear and headed out of town and left my car in a street in Upper Hutt. I caught the train to Masterton and walked out here.” Andy sipped his coffee while he listened. “Chocolate?” Mark held out a few squares of milk chocolate.

  “Thanks,” Andy took the chocolate and quickly finished it. “Where’s the video now?” Andy asked

  “Here,” Mark reached into his shirt pocket and held up a small USB memory stick.