"Cussed if I know."
Chaney stared. "They found something," he said.
"Found something? Like what?"
"Son, I don't know." Chaney shook his head, looking away. "Something they want to keep secret. But something they have to stay close to. Something they're protecting." He strolled slowly around the room. "Were all these guys killed at the same station?"
"No. I did get that much. Seems that there's several of those things up there." Brick paused. Clearly, he didn't like any of it. "Something bad is in the wind, son. And nothing in the news. But somethin' shoulda’ leaked. So somebody with power has shut down the pipe." He looked around thoughtfully. "Yeah, I think I'm gonna stock up the bunker."
Chaney laughed, let it settle.
"So, several research stations are attacked," he continued. "Which means that these people, whoever they are, didn't know where to look. They only knew that it was somewhere in one of the stations. I can see how that might make sense. They've got something up there, and somebody else wants it."
"There ain't nuthin' that important, kid. Killing two platoons of marines would be considered an overt act of war. Even though we ain't in the Reagan years no more, there's only so much that folks out there in God's country will take. The people would make us hit back, no matter who it was against. And the good ol' boys would be lining up at the recruiting office, just like they did after we kicked butt in the Gulf."
Chaney hadn't considered that; yeah, killing two platoons of marines probably would be considered an overt provocation act of war unless…unless…
"Unless…" he said slowly, "we killed them ourselves."
Brick didn't move.
Releasing a heavy breath, he stared at the wall.
"This is unreal," he said.
Chapter 10
Staring intently at the topographical map with Takakura sweating and glowering beside him, Hunter tried to find an easily negotiable route to the research station, located on the south side of the White Mountains, a massive range over thirty miles long and completely impossible to clear in time to help the professor.
His brow hardening, Hunter looked at Takakura, and the Japanese just shook his head, still breathing hard from the last hard knoll they'd had to clamber across carrying the stretcher.
This was obviously not good country for a man to get injured, nor one in which to portage a man out. The terrain was becoming increasingly difficult and rough-cut, and the map indicated that it was about to become even more severe.
As a team, they would have had only moderate difficulty clearing the north ridge of the mountains bordering Fossil Creek, a misnamed river that ran the length of the range. But with a wounded man in uncertain condition this was no longer a strike mission; it was a rescue mission.
They couldn't scale, couldn't push the pace at double time when they mercifully reached a rare level area. So far, the longest level path had been about a hundred yards and ended in a long descent that a strong man could negotiate with caution, but only with the greatest difficulty while carrying a wounded man.
Takakura turned his head. "Riley!"
In a moment Riley was bent beside them, wearily propped on his rifle. Hunter had liked the guy from the first, but had not found a good opportunity to talk to him.
Takakura's tone allowed no room for failure. "We will negotiate this bluff ahead to lower the professor and move for this area known as Windy Gap, which is the only pass through the mountains. Can you rig a harness for which to accomplish this?"
Riley glanced at the map. "That's a one-hundred-foot vertical drop, but yes, I can manage it."
"Good." The Japanese folded the map and rose sharply.
Hunter saw what he meant, knew it was possible. Then he looked up to see Bobbi Jo attentively medicating the old professor through the rough-rigged IV and stood as Takakura continued.
"There is no time to waste. We must move quickly, Hunter," he turned into him. "Are you confident that you and your wolf can detect the presence of the beast, should he approach again?"
Hunter's response was solid. "It hasn't deceived us yet. But it's learning. You can't be sure what it will do next. Confidence can be dangerous."
"How do you know that it is learning?"
"It used to stalk, now it waits in ambush." He paused. "There's other things bothering me about that, too. But we can talk about it later. Right now it's enough to assume that it probably can't move without Ghost hearing it. On balance… I'd say that, one way or another, either Ghost or I can pick it up. But it's not a guarantee."
Takakura said nothing for a long moment, then turned to Bobbi Jo. "You will take point behind Hunter," he said. "You possess the only weapon which can wound it." He walked away. "Buck and Riley will carry the professor for now. Let's move."
Hunter never ceased to be amazed at Takakura's determination and complexity. On the one hand, the Japanese was patient and courteous and enduring far beyond the rest; on the other he could be as severe as a feudal lord declaring war. But Hunter had come to genuinely respect him; it was enough.
Bobbi Jo seemed to be finally showing the strain of carrying the heavy Barrett and its ammunition. Her face was flushed, perspiration running in rivulets down her neck through a sea of sweat, and her depressed shoulder showed where the strap, though padded, was cutting through her vest. As Hunter walked past her, he asked casually, "Want me to carry that for a while? It's a heavy piece of artillery. And you've carried it all day through some pretty bad terrain."
To his surprise and without blinking she said, "Don't mind at all. It's yours. Here." And gave it to him. Simple as that.
When she let the weapon go, Hunter was shocked. It weighed at least thirty pounds. He couldn't believe she'd carried this weight for so long without ever revealing the effort it took. He put the strap over his shoulder, trying to find a comfortable point of contact, as she worked the action on the Marlin, ejecting a cartridge from the port and then injecting it back into the magazine. Obviously she needed no instruction in how to work his weapon.
She swept back hair from her head, speaking quickly and pointing to the weapon. "There's a round already chambered. This is the safety. It's a semiauto .50 caliber. You already found out that it kicks some, but be ready. You've got five shots but I'll get to you before that.” A pause. “Hopefully."
He looked up. "Why hopefully?"
Shaking sweat from her forehead, she smiled, " 'Cause I've got the extra clips."
"Oh."
"Let's move!" Takakura repeated, looking more warlike with every step the expedition put behind them. Hunter took point, with Ghost ranging to his left and right, searching, searching, and always ready. Hunter tried to estimate how quickly they could negotiate the expanse between them and the research station before they once again might be forced to try and kill what might indeed be un-killable.
Chaney answered the fax, reading it from the screen of the portable laptop. As ever, he was impressed with the modern technology available to modern law-enforcement personnel.
Without shame or concern he considered himself a computer idiot, but he knew enough about technology to remain functional. From the old school, though, he still preferred the old-fashioned snitch and a good fast attack stratagem. However he was not so cowboy-minded that he didn't appreciate fingertip access to information.
Chaney studied the Executive Order displayed on the gray-blue monitor. It was dated one week ago and had authorized the search team in the Alaskan wilderness. And one name in particular attracted his attention: Dr. Angus Tipler, executive director of the Tipler Institute.
Chaney had just learned that Tipler was the country's leading authority on crypto-zoology and ecosystems reputedly on the verge of destruction. In fact, that entire institute seemed dedicated to the preservation of endangered species and environments. Thoughtfully, Chaney studied it. What was this old man doing on what was supposed to be a military mission? Then he saw an obscure mention of the inclusion of a civilian "scout." He focused on the name: Nathaniel Hunter.