by Alex Ander
Randall nodded once. “Understood. And I appreciate it. Thank you.”
“So, like I told you on the phone, I’ve heard rumors about someone fleeing the States and hiding out in Norway. Pushing my assets for information, I think I’ve come up with a possible location on your mark. It’s not a hundred percent, but my contact has yet to fail me.”
Randall shrugged. “At this point, we have nothing else to go on, so,” he paused, “where does your contact think Crane is?”
Chase hooked a thumb toward the mountain behind him. “Up there.”
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
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Chapter 23
Black Diamonds
8:28 A.M.
Having stepped off the gondola, locked boots into skis, and taken a four-person chair lift to the top of the mountain, the group convened near a sign at the start of a run, a black diamond painted on the metal placard.
Chase lowered his goggles and adjusted them over his eyes. “I know your skiing abilities, Noah.” He spied the women and tipped his head back toward the sign. “We have to go down two ‘black diamonds’ to get to where we need to go. Are you two comfortable with that level of difficulty?”
Devlin adjusted her gloves. “Don’t worry about me.”
Faith threaded fingers into ski pole handles and flashed two upturned thumbs.
“Okay.” He paused. “At the end of the second one, try to work up some steam. We’ll be entering a cross-country trail, and the extra momentum will help us not have to work so hard at getting up the incline. Hopefully, we won’t have to slow down for any skiers on the trails.” He paused. “Is everyone good?”
The women bobbed their heads once.
Randall slipped on his goggles. “You’ve got point. I’ll take rear-guard.”
Chase smiled. “I never thought I’d see the day when you weren’t charging in first.” He pushed off.
Randall raised his voice. “Don’t get used to it.”
With Faith on her heels, Devlin followed the leader.
After giving the three a healthy head start, Randall dug in his poles, lifted both skis off the snow, and headed straight down the steep slope, making his first hard turn after having cut in half the distance between Faith and him.
At the bottom of the run, the grade flattened, and Chase veered left toward the southeastern side of the mountain. A hundred yards later, at the second black diamond run, he made a sharp ninety to the right.
Randall’s heart skipped a beat while he watched his friend seemingly drop out of sight. Having skied in rough, backcountry terrain that was only accessible via helicopter, Randall could tell the next slope would be a sheer one. He spied Faith and Devlin. Hope they were right about their skills.
Attacking the grade, Devlin and Faith disappeared a second apart from each other.
His skis went airborne as he sailed over the sharp undulation. Expecting to see a wipeout, Randall flexed his leg muscles and prepared for a quick stop.
Up ahead, the women knifed through their turns throwing snow with each change of direction. A moment later, her right ski coming a foot off the snow, Faith listed left.
He stood taller, Uh-oh, before hunching over and accelerating toward her.
Her arms flailing for a half second, she regained her balance and caught her stride again.
Randall slowed and let out a sigh. Nice recovery.
At the front of the line, Chase cranked his head to the right for a few seconds, faced forward, pointed his skis in the same direction, bent over, and tucked poles under armpits.
Devlin and Faith mimicked his stance.
Thirty yards passed, and the leader leaned into a left turn and zipped through a gap in the trees.
Devlin and Faith traced his path perfectly.
Two beats later, Randall entered the cross-country track. His skis finding lanes, he curled into a ball and coasted up the hill. Losing momentum, he stood, dug poles into the ground, and propelled himself along while noticing Faith’s twenty-yard lead on him was closing rapidly.
Their boots locked into downhill ski bindings, rendering the power in their legs virtually useless to them, Devlin and Faith had only their arms to propel them up the rising angle.
Chase hopped off the trail, drifted right, and glided down an embankment.
The women followed suit.
Randall took the same track before performing a quick left-right turn and snaking his way down the narrow tree-lined trail his party had already taken. Through a gap in the forest on his left, he noted an orange snow fence. On the other side, the vantage point resembled that of an abrupt drop off from the top of a cliff.
Fifty yards later, Randall skied into a clearing and saw his companions clustered near a fence that ran down the rest of the mountain. Not slowing, he sped to the left of the gathering, threw out the backs of his skis, turned toward Faith, and performed a textbook hockey stop on her nine o’clock, sending a three-foot-high rooster tail of fresh powder through the fence’s chain links.
She eyed the remains of the white stuff clinging to the gray steel before confronting him. “Show off. Is that supposed to impress me?”
“Nope. I just,” he plopped goggles onto his head and exhaled, “haven’t done that in a while. It always feels great.” Regarding her, “Speaking of impressive,” he stuck out his chin, “you recovered nicely from that near mishap back there.”
“Yeah,” she looked at the landscape beyond his right shoulder, “it’s been some time since I’ve been on skis. I’m not sure what happened.”
“It’s age-related. As you get older...”
She squinted at him.
“...you start losing,” he noticed tiny slits for eyes behind her goggles, “your,” he faltered, “balance.”
Faith tilted her head sideways.
Both poles in his left hand, he wagged his free index finger at her straight-lined lips. “Actually, come to think of it, I believe I felt a patch of ice in that same area.” Nodding, he glanced uphill and came back to her. “That,” he stuttered, “that-that was probably it. Your ski just lost an edge. It happens to the best of us—So,” he eyed the other male, “why have we stopped here? What’s...”
Turning her back on the man quickly changing topics, Faith allowed a sliver of a smile to play out over her features. Talk about your nice recoveries from mishaps.
“...what’s the attraction, Chase?”
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
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Chapter 24
Cabin
Chase dipped his forehead toward the chain fence, toward a large structure on the opposite side, the length of two football fields away, and fifty feet lower in elevation. “That’s the cabin where we think your man is holed up.”
Save for a twenty-five-yard cushion of open space around its perimeter, the dwelling was surrounded by tall pines on all sides. A break in the trees on the west side, the near side, allowed the foursome to get a good look at the building.
“Cabin?” Randall frowned. “That has to be at least fifteen hundred square feet. That’s a house if I ever saw one.”
Chase waved a finger in different directions. “They’re popping up all over Norway. Most are not this big, of course. But Norwegians wanting to get away from their busy lives are renting and buying these mountain retreats. It’s the latest craze.”
Devlin stuck her ski poles in the snow, stepped out of her skis, and shoved a hand into a coat pocket. “And you’re sure Crane is using this place right now?”
“Ninety percent sure.”
“Well,” she hauled out her cell phone, “if that’s true, then we need to start doing some recon.”
Hearing her words and seeing the mobile device in her gloved hands, Randall undid his boots from his bindings. “Good thinking, Jessica. But let’s do this right. If Crane is in there, then,” he helped Faith get out of her bindings and gain solid footing, “we don’t want him getting suspicious of people taking pictures of his hideaway.”
Devlin backed up and stood atop a mound of snow on the far side of the ski run.
Chase retreated to get out of the frame.
Wrapping his left arm around Faith’s waist and taking her with him, “Act like we’re,” Randall sidestepped to his right a few paces while glancing over his shoulder at the fancy cabin, “on vacation and in love.”
She hugged his waist with her right arm, laid her left hand on his chest, and tipped her head back a bit to take in his handsome features from six inches away. That won’t be hard to do.
Satisfied he and Faith were in the shot, but not blocking the target, he pivoted back, stopping to regard her attractiveness. A tick later, lowering his voice, “The camera’s,” he tipped his head toward Devlin, “that way.”
“Yes, but the view,” she whispered, “is better this way.”
Grinning from ear to ear, he faced the photographer. That it is, Miss Mahoney. That, he saw her beauty in his mind’s eye, it is.
Beaming, Faith turned toward her sister and gave the camera a big, bright smile.
Devlin snapped several photos of the happy couple and posed with Chase for a few more—to help sell the tourists-on-vacation appearance—before everyone clamped boots into bindings and wrapped fingers around ski poles. The female marshal gave the heavily wooded private real estate a long look. “I’m not making out any roads leading to the cabin. Is there one on the other side we can’t see, Chase?”
“No ma’am...helicopter only. I suppose they figure if you can afford to stay there, then you can afford the transportation cost.” Chase affixed his goggles over his eyes. “If we’re done here, I’ll lead us to our humble little chalet.” He leaned forward and headed down the hill.
*******
45 MINUTES LATER...
9:29 A.M.
Randall glided to a stop outside the chalet located halfway up the southeast side of the mountain, popped off his skis, and leaned them, along with his poles, against the building beside three other sets of ski equipment.
Breaking off from Devlin, Faith, and Chase at the chalet thirty minutes ago, Randall had skied to the gondola and made the trek back to the top of the slopes where he had then found the gap in the trees he had spotted on his first run.
After having scaled the orange snow fence and inspected the area beyond, he had hopped back over the barrier and made a slow pass by the massive cabin again before continuing down the mountain and stopping at the chalet Chase had rented for the four of them.
Randall stomped his boots on the wooden deck and entered the tiny abode. Smelling wood smoke, he spotted a large fireplace on the wall to his left. He shed his winter jacket and hung it on a rack next to the door while glimpsing the rest of his ski group.
Sharing a three-person couch that faced the fire, Devlin and Faith sat with their feet on a four-foot coffee table.
On their two o’clock, his legs crossed—ankle on knee—Chase slouched in a chair while nursing a bottle of water.
Randall spied the rest of the floor plan.
A miniscule-sized kitchen, behind Chase, showed only a small refrigerator and a microwave oven for appliances. To the right of the kitchen, a door led to a bedroom.
Randall pulled off his boots and shuffled over to a second chair situated on Devlin and Faith’s ten o’clock. Glancing inside the bedroom while claiming his seat, he noticed a queen-sized bed and a nightstand on either side before giving the diminutive main space another peek. “Well, this is cozy.” He grinned at Chase. “I hope it didn’t drain the CIA’s bank account.”
Chase lifted a shoulder. “Princess didn’t give me much notice...or else I would’ve booked you a five-star.”
Randall chuckled and eyed the siblings sitting side-by-side, both studying Devlin’s phone.
Faith scowled. “You’re law enforcement, too, Jess, so I know you’re asking yourself the same question.” She glimpsed the men and threw up a hand. “Why aren’t we working with the local police to get a warrant and knock down the door of this cabin, mansion...or whatever the heck we’re calling it?”
Devlin crossed arms over her belly. “Something tells me it’s not that simple.” She eyed the males. “Am I right?”
Chase raised eyebrows at Randall.
Randall swung a finger back at the man. “Since we’re working off your Intel, I’ll let you explain the nuances.”
The younger man put both feet on the floor, “I can do that,” leaned forward to set his drink on the table, clasped hands, and rested elbows on knees. “Please don’t take this the wrong way. I’m not disrespecting you ladies in any way, but,” he paused, “you really need to understand that your badges mean absolutely nothing...where you are right now.”
Randall watched the women exchange glances.
“You’re operating in the world of black ops—covert ops.”
Faith cocked her head at him. “How is arresting someone who’s escaped custody a black op?”
“If you try to work with local authorities to arrest him, they’ll want evidence. And the person—”
“You said you had that. You said your source was sure Crane was there.”
Chase raised a hand. “Let me finish. The person who owns the cabin in question is a highly respected Norwegian government official. In order to knock down his door and search his property, you would need ironclad evidence he’s harboring a fugitive. And my source isn’t the kind of person who would garner trust with the legal system. But that doesn’t negate the accuracy of his Intel.”
“Now,” Chase continued, “if you want to go the legal route, fine, but my guess is by the time you’ve gathered what you need...Crane will have already received word and fled to another country. At which point,” Chase smiled, “you would have to start your search for him all over again.”
Studying the women, especially Devlin, Randall scanned their faces for signs they understood the situation.
“If you want to catch your man,” Chase picked up his beverage and sat back in the chair, “you will have to do so without the Norwegians ever knowing you were here.” He eyed Faith, “Black ops,” before unscrewing the bottle’s cap and taking a swig.
“And just so we’re clear,” the current CIA man rested the container on his thigh, “I was never here. This meeting never took place. I won’t be a part of your actual mission. And, if you get caught, I will deny having ever laid eyes on you people.” He shook his head. “I can’t risk exposing my CIA cover.” His gaze fell upon the man across from him. “I’m sure you can appreciate that, Noah.”
Randall poked a thumb over his shoulder. “If you walked out that door right now and left us for good, I wouldn’t blame you.”
“We’re not there yet, old friend. But that time’s coming. So I can help you with logistics, materials, and Intel, but I cannot engage in direct action.”
Randall nodded. “I understand.”
Devlin stood, walked to the fireplace, and bent over to warm her hands. Her mind took her back to a conversation with the President, the conversation that had set her feet upon her current path...
“Jessica, you’ll be hunting our own citizens who have committed, or are planning to commit, crimes against innocent civilians. And that may require you to cross international borders to get your man. When that happens, you’ll become a covert agent, and the parameters of your mission will change. If you’re caught operating on foreign soil, your country will be forced to publicly denounce your activities.”
Her mental replay fast-forwarded to another part of that meeting...
“Jessica…I’m asking you to enforce the law. And, at times,” the President bobbed his head, “that’ll require bending the law...to save innocent lives.” He looked down before meeting her gaze. “Earlier, you said ‘there’s nothing more important than family.’” He hesitated. “Taking the fight to the enemy means protecting the ones you love...your family.”
Frowning, Devlin stood tall and turned away from the fireplace, cupping an elbow and holding her chin in the ne
xt instant.
Randall scrutinized her.
She eyeballed Faith while recalling past events—her betrayal in Mexico, her family targeted for assassination, her sister’s abduction.
“What are you thinking, Jessica?”
Devlin faced Randall. “I’m thinking…” There’s nothing more important than family, “I’m thinking we need to take the fight to the enemy.” She came back to Faith. “To make sure what happened to our family doesn’t happen to anyone else’s family.”
Faith shed a half grin.
“Good decision.” Chase returned his water bottle to the table. “But I suggest you act on that decision sooner rather than later if you plan to use the mountain as cover for infiltration...or as part of an exit strategy.”
Randall looked at his friend. “Why’s that?”
“While the colder-than-usual temps have extended the skiing season a few more weeks this year, the weather is expected to change rapidly. On our way down today, I noticed the snowpack was getting pretty thin in many spots. I wouldn’t be surprised if the resort shuts down in the next day or two. And, when that happens, you’ll be forced to go in on the north side, which, as you’ve seen, is virtually inaccessible, except from—”
“The air.” Randall’s gaze fell to the floor. “And helicopters aren’t exactly silent.”
“Precisely.”
Devlin spied Randall. “I believe we had a discussion at the cemetery...a discussion on which one of us leads an operation when we’re in another country?”
He nodded. “I remember. You tabled that topic.”
“Actually, you tabled it, but,” she bobbed her head from side to side, “six of one...half dozen of another.” She paused. “Anyway, I’m asking for your input. Any ideas on how we get to Crane?”
His attention shifting to the flames in the fireplace, Randall thought about his second run down the mountain and the time he had spent on the other side of that orange snow fence. He stood. “I have a few, but first I need to get something in my belly and,” he eyed the bedroom while pointing in the same direction, “I take it the bathroom’s off the bedroom?”