Author's notes: Thanks for all of the wonderful reviews. Each and everyone is like a gift. Thanks. I'm sorry this took a few days longer than I had hoped. The Flu struck hitting me and one of the kids. Today was the first day I felt up to typing. This will be at least 8-10 more chapters and don't worry Spike and Sam fans, the fun is just beginning for these two.
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The only sound coming from the inside of the plane was the crackle of the fire. Three sets of eyes scanned the area as they circled the downed plane. The quiet inside convinced them that it was time to rush the plane for what they wanted.
The moon was in its first quarter, so the light filtering down to the floor of the woods was somewhat diffused. The snow on the ground reflected the light and gave just enough light to see.
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Jules and Lou were leaving the pub were they had stopped for supper and they were both surprised to see big, fluffy snowflakes starting to fall. The city hadn't had a snowfall that had stuck yet and even when they did get snow, it didn't stay pretty for long.
"This is too early for Christmas snow. It's only the end of November." Jules held out her hand and caught some of the flakes. "I loved the snow growing up."
"What? Is snow in Alberta that much nicer than Ontario snow?"
"I think it is. If snow is around for long here it gets dirty fast." She pulled out her cellphone and thumbed it to camera mode. "Here, let's take a photo and let Sam see what he's missing."
Taking the phone from her, Lou motioned her to pose. "Now give Sam on of your real smiles, don't make duck lips."
"I smile real all of the time. What do you mean duck lips?"
"When a girl does the, "pouty, but trying to be sexy thing"." Lou stuck his own lips out in a mocking pose.
"I never do that!"
"You never know what lurks in the mind of a female." He took the photo of Jules and handed her back the phone. "Here you go, tell him to keep an eye on Spike. I don't need to listen to the Italian Stallion telling us about the women throwing themselves at him. They only seem to do that when he isn't out with any of Team One."
Jules had taken the phone back and had texted a message to go along with the photo and sent it to Sam. "Let's go. My toes are getting chilly."
They headed to where they had parked and bid each other goodnight. When she arrived at home, Jules looked at her cellphone and was a little dismayed to see that Sam had not responded to her message. Laughing to herself, "He'll probably be too busy keeping up with Spike to respond."
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The leader made a noise low in his throat as he moved towards the plane. The other two had moved into positions to attack from the other sides, not realizing that their point of entry would be compromised by the way that the front of the plane had twisted. The leader saw no reason to concern himself with their positions, he was focused on his target. He crept closer and moved into the opening of plane.
The fire had burnt down and only cast a feeble amount of light around the interior of the plane. It was a conditioned response that brought Sam to consciousness; years in the military and several in Afghanistan had honed it. It could have been the scrape of feet on metal or the guttural growl as the predator reached for his prey; whichever, Sam opened his eyes and scanned the area. It took a moment to realize what he was seeing, but as his brain was processing, his hand was reaching for his sidearm.
The sound of Sam's Glock 17 firing filled the small enclosure. Spike sat up quickly and reached for his own gun. Even with ears ringing, he could hear the snarls and yips from outside the plane.
Sam had flipped on a flashlight that he had found earlier and aimed the beam towards the cockpit. Lying bleeding on the ground was a large grey wolf.
"Puta madre!" Javier swore. "¿Qúe diablos es eso?"
"Grey wolf," Sam was moving slowly towards the prone animal. Hearing nothing more outside of the plane he turned back to the other men. "They must have gotten a scent of the blood and homed in on us."
"Will they be back?" Spike questioned as he moved forward to help Sam move the animal.
"No way of knowing. Depending on where we are, if they have encountered hunters before they might be wary of us. But, they are the top of the food chain around here, so I don't know."
They drug the bleeding carcass out and away from the plane. Heading back into the plane, Sam grabbed ahold of Spike's arm for a moment.
"Wait a minute." Sam spoke quietly. He noticed that the pressure in Sam's grasp was increasing.
"What's up?"
Sam turned and vomited into the snow; his knees weakening. Spike grabbed ahold and helped keep his friend upright.
"Easy Sam, I've got you." Spike spoke softly. "Do you feel like you need to throw up some more?"
"I think I'm good for a minute."
"Let's get you over by the wing." Spike guided him over to the wing on the right side of the plane and helped Sam lower himself down onto the wing. "I'll go grab some water."
Spike entered the plane and walked back to the area where the drinks were kept. Javier saw him reaching in to pull out a bottle of water. "I am thirsty as well."
"You are going to need to wait your turn. I'll be back to you in a little bit." Spike went past the man cuffed to the seat.
"Seems Constable Braddock's head injury might be more serious than you though." Javier smiled, his eyes full of cruel malice. "What else are you making a mistake with?"
"I'll be back to give you some water." Spike slipped back out of the rip in the plane. He unscrewed the bottle and handed it to Sam. "Here, little sips."
"Thanks." Sam took a small sip and swished the water around inside his mouth and leaned over to spit it out. He then took a drink. "I thought I had my stomach under control."
"Not listening to orders is it?" Spike teased lightly, and then turned serious. "Sam, I need to know how bad your head really is. Have you kept anything from me?"
"No, I don't think so. I've got a hell of a headache and my vision is going in and out; sometimes double vision sometimes not. I think that my stomach just got riled when I moved around dealing with the wolf. I know we are in a real mess Spike, I wouldn't jeopardize anyone's safety just trying to be bad-ass."
"Good to know. Do you feel like going back inside? I've got to stoke the fire and our guest is thirsty also."
"Just a few more minutes, the fresh air feels good."
"Fresh? Is that another word for damn cold? It feels like -12 at least. If we were American it would be warmer, it would be 10 above. That doesn't sound as cold. Maybe we should change to Fahrenheit? "
"It's about as cold as Afghanistan in the winter. Some nights you would feel like you were back home, except for the people shooting at you."
"Hey there's that Samtastic sense of humor I know and love. Let's try to get you back inside alright? Hopefully this will be our only night at wilderness sleep away camp because I didn't bring any marshmallows."
"I can't see you being the Boy Scout type." Sam took Spike's offered hand and rose slowly to his feet.
"I preferred more urban activities, like blowing things up in my parent's backyard."
The men entered the airplane's cabin and made their way back to their seats. Spike handed another water bottle to Javier. "Don't drink too much because there are no more bathroom breaks until morning."
The fire was stoked and the men settled back down for a fitful sleep.
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"Hello, Salvador? This is Teyo. The plane hasn't arrived yet."
"What do you mean it hasn't arrived?"
"I am in Fort Hope. The pilot was supposed to divert to here. I have men in Saskatoon and they haven't seen the plane land there either."
"It left on schedule?"
"Yes, Marco saw them load Javier onto the plane and watched it take off."
"Is there any way for you to track it?"
"No, we disabled the emergency locator beacon. Plus the pilot was going to fly under the radar."
"Mr. Hierra will not be happy to hear that his son is not returning as expected."
"We are planning on searching along a line that corresponds to their expected route to Fort Hope. We will find him."
"I hope that is the case Teyo, for your sake." The line went dead.
Teyo turned and looked at the three men who had waited silently during the phone call. The plan had seemed simple, the plane would land in Fort Hope and they would liberate Javier. The pilot, having already disposed of the two constables would then be free to go. It was unfortunate however that the plane would then have engine trouble and crash, this was to be courtesy of Philippe who was skilled with bomb making. That had been the plan, now they were scrambling to locate the missing plane before the authorities did.
"So, as we've discussed, the first thing in the morning we start searching by air. I have several pilots that have worked for us before flying in tonight. That way we won't have any loose ends when it comes to explaining what we are looking for."
The men nodded in agreement. No one asked what would happen if they were unable to locate the aircraft; they knew too well the price for disappointing Mr. Hierra.
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The morning light was subdued, clouds had filled the sky and there was a touch of humidity to the air; snow was a real likelihood.
Spike had already been outside to answer the call of nature and was returning to let Javier out for a while. He glanced at his watch and mentally calculated how many hours had passed since their estimated arrival time in Saskatoon.
"By now they will be starting a search for the beacon's signal. Let's hope that the weather holds for a day or two." Spike thought to himself.
Entering the plane he unshackled the criminal and told him to stay close to the plane. Spike also checked on Sam and decided to let him sleep. He had been waking his friend ever two hours to check on him and Spike knew Sam would be tired.
Going back outside, Spike saw Javier returning from the area that had been designated as the bathroom. "Mr. Hierra, I am not going to cuff you for a while. However, if you give me reason to chain you up again, I will with no hesitation."
"Thank you Constable, I assure you I will be a dutiful prisoner." The words were meant to appease, but the tone held a different meaning.
"Great, now why don't you head off where we went yesterday to look for some more wood and I'll take a different direction. Here are a pair of gloves for you, when you come back we will build the fire up and you can dry out your shoes and socks." Spike handed the man a pair of gloves from his own pocket.
"Gracias." The man turned and headed towards the trail they had broken the day before.
"Hey, letting the prisoner go?" Sam had stuck his head out of the plane, squinting against the light.
"No, just having him help me gather some wood for the fire."
"I could help you with that." Sam headed over towards the "bathroom".
"I'm good, but I want you to rest a little more if you can."
"Do you think they will find us today?" Sam zipped up and turned back around.
"Well, they stress the "golden day" with plane crashes, the best recovery stats take place in that first day." Spike realized how depressing that sounded and tried to be upbeat. "The three of us are healthy and we've got shelter and fire, plus plenty of snow to melt for water, so I think we don't have to worry about immediate rescue."
"There are some other things to think about too Spike. The pilot was obviously not heading us to Saskatoon and we don't know how far off the original course he went. I had a quick look at his gps, but nothing that would help us know where we are."
"True Sam, but with the emergency locator beacon, it will send up a signal to the satellites and let them know where we are."
"How about the radio? I tried my cell, but no surprise there wasn't reception."
"I looked at it yesterday before we went to bed." Spike was a little uneasy because Sam had been with him when they had checked on it. But he chalked it up to the trauma of the day and Sam's concussion. "It looked pretty well smashed."
"Even for a genius?" Sam grinned slightly.
"Even for a genius." Spike clapped his hands together to warm them. "Why don't you go back in and feed the fire and I'll go get more wood." He turned but then turned back to Sam, "Hey, be careful around Javier. He has been acting a little too helpful today."
"Too helpful?"
"Yeah, and I don't trust guys like him when they want to help."
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Greg was standing in the kitchen making breakfast for Dean and Clark. The two boys had spent the night together working on a computer program and Greg knew that to rouse them was going to take more than just his skills in negotiating. He had started cracking eggs to cook along with the bacon when his phone rang. Tempted to ignore it, he glanced and saw that the number was from headquarters.
"Morning, this is Greg Parker."
"Sergeant Parker, this is Inspector Price. I'm sorry to bother you."
"No problem sir. What can I do for you?"
"I'm calling to let you know that we have a problem regarding the prisoner transport that two of your men went on yesterday."
A feeling of dread settled over Greg. Sam and Spike were not only team members, but in some ways, de facto sons. "What type of problem sir?"
"The plane never made it to Saskatoon and it appears that it disappeared from radar about an hour after take-off."
"I'm assuming you haven't received word of a crash?" Greg reached over to the oven and turned the fire under the bacon off.
"Nothing confirmed. Transport Canada and NAV Canada are both working on locating the plane."
"Has anyone looked into the prisoner's criminal ties? His father controls a lot of the criminal activity coming up from the US."
"Right now we are treating this as a possible downed flight. Once the aircraft is located, then we will worry about the hows and whys."
"But if Hierra is behind the disappearance, that could help you narrow the search." Greg knew his tone sounded someone pleading, but he couldn't keep it from creeping into his voice.
"All of that information has been passed along, how they chose to proceed is their decision. I am calling to let you know that your team will stand down until further notice."
"What!" Greg was shocked. "I can't believe that someone isn't actively pursuing the connection and you want my team to stand down."
"Sergeant Parker, I understand that you are upset but this isn't your call. I'll let you know as soon as we know more." Inspector Price rang off.
"Son of a bitch!"
"Hey Dad," a sleepy looking Dean appeared at the kitchen door. "Burning pancakes again?"
"Sorry son. No, something has happened with work. I'm sorry but breakfast will have to wait. I've got to get to work."