Chapter Six
Sorry I didn't get this up last night! Thanks for the reviews!
Dawn had yet to begin coloring the surrounding woods with its muted rays when Harry awoke with a start, the nightmare he'd been enduring of the O'Brien twins' death fading slowly. Stretching his arms over head, he groaned as his injured leg and ankle throbbed in beat with his heart. Sitting up slowly, he gently peeled the bandage of sock and cattail root from the wounds, checking for any sign of infection.
"Slightly red but not bad. Bleeding's stopped at least."
He quickly drained the water in his pot before rising and hobbling to the stream bed where he filled it with more water. Just as he was about to head back, he spotted a cluster of plants and made his way to them, smiling when he recognized watercress growing in the stream. Gathering all he could find, he walked back to his campsite with his unexpected discovery.
Building up his banked fire slightly, he sat the pot on the embers and waited for it to boil then proceeded to eat some of the watercress, saving some for later, and frowned at its mustardy flavor.
"Now I remember why I don't like Edith's watercress sandwiches," he grumped but continued to chew on the plant.
Grabbing his bag, he took out a few of the cattail leaves that he had taken from the pond and laid them on the edges of his fire. While he waited for them to turn to ash, he hobbled into the woods to check his snare and found it empty. Disgusted, he took the vine snare from the branches and headed back to his camp doing his best to ignore the raw gnawing in his stomach.
Snatching a few cattails and berries from his dwindling stash, he ate quickly then removed his pot from the fire, setting it aside to cool. Taking the leaf ash carefully from the fire, he applied it to the cuts to use as an antiseptic. Reaching for his bag, he took more of the cattail root and pounded it until he had made another covering for the wounds. Cutting off the top of his other sock he tied it all around his leg. For just a moment he sat still, trying to gather the energy to move.
Irritated with his sluggishness, he grunted, grabbed his pot and put it in his bag, then took his now dry flannel shirt from its place by the fire and put it on. Rising, he looked longingly at the stream where a few minnows and a few larger fish were lazily swimming in the early morning sun but knew he had no time for more fishing.
"I've got to get a move on before Shane finds me." He cleaned up his campsite as quickly and thoroughly as he could; hiding even the slightest evidence he's spent the night there. With one more wistful look at the meal swimming so close to him, he gathered up the remainder of his "possessions" and headed off, hoping he found the river he'd followed the day before.
~000~
Morning passed quickly into afternoon, the sun shining through the tall trees above speckling the trail in front of Harry as he trudged along, hoping he'd find the river again soon. Without it he wasn't sure which way he should be headed. Over the course of the morning, he'd found a few birch trees and had sucked as much of the sap as he could and gathered more pine needles for tea, knowing the needles were high in vitamins: vitamins his body needed.
The throbbing in his ankle and leg reminded him to keep his eyes peeled for more of Shane's unwanted surprises and was rewarded shortly after noon when he spotted something that didn't look right off the trail. Leaves of a low bushy shrub were dried and withered as if they had been broken or torn recently. Inching closer, Harry saw just the tip of an arrow sticking out of the brown vegetation.
"Looks like luck is on my side today, Shane." Taking his walking stick, he triggered the trap, the air whistling as the arrow sped from the brush and imbedded itself into a tree about chest high on the other side of the trail.
"You're not playing around any longer, are you, Shane?" Walking to the tree, he removed the still quivering arrow from the tree and put it in his bag. "That was a kill shot."
Knowing he needed to continue to be cautious, he continued on. Not long after his narrow escape from the arrow trap he heard the distant roar of what he hoped was the river and he limped towards it.
A few minutes later he pushed his way through the last of the thick woods, and stared in dismay at the river in front of him. The swiftly running river from before had transformed into a raging, angry torrent. Swirling pools eddied on the bank across from him, but the rest of the river gushed past him in a hurried pace. Listening, Harry understood the change in the river as he heard the distinct roar of a waterfall and felt the vibration beneath his feet.
Taking his time, he moved cautiously along the bank and shortly found the brink of the falls. Moving closer he peered over the edge of the rim and watched the river disappear over a cliff, cascading down in an approximately fifty foot drop. Not an enormous waterfall, but one he doubted he would survive intact if he fell over. Watching the angered river frothing as it flowed closer to the waterfall, he knew there was no way he could cross it safely. With only one good leg to support him, he also knew he couldn't take the chance of trying to navigate his way down the rock wall below him. As he watched, a section of rock, rotted by ages of weathering, broke free and fell clattering to the rocks below.
"Not going take the chance the same thing happens to me," he muttered as he moved along the rim a bit, looking for another way down and finding none. Before he could turn back to the trail that rimmed the canyon he heard a gunshot ring out and felt a searing pain in his left arm.
Spun to the ground, he lost hold of his cane and spear, cursing as he watched them fall over the edge of the canyon. Pulling himself behind an outcropping of rocks, he waited.
"That was too easy, Harry!" Shane's jubilant voice called out. "I thought you would make a better adversary. Perhaps you spend too much time behind a desk!"
"Maybe I do," he yelled back. "But your little hunt wasn't exactly fair now, was it? Even if you knew the lay of the land as I suspect you do, it should have taken you far longer to get here than it did! Plus, you knew I would come this way, didn't you? That's why all the traps!"
Shane's harsh laughter echoed off the canyon walls, making it difficult for Harry to figure out where the man was. "I did actually know you would choose this way! I know you! You trained me or have you forgotten that fact? You always said to follow the nearest water course to civilization! And you did exactly that! And the cattails were Heaven sent, weren't they? When I saw them I just knew you would head straight for them. So predictable. And as you said, I am quite familiar with this area. I have a cabin…the very cabin you were in...near here."
"And you started from the exact spot you left me in? Or did you run ahead?"
"I did have the advantage on you I admit, but as I said, I know you, and I know how good you are at...well everything. I needed an advantage. So since it was my game, I made the rules."
Harry cocked his head, listening to Shane's words, his voice coming not from his right as it had been but more straight in front of him: he was hunting him. "You mean you cheated!"
"Cheat is a strong word, Harry. I prefer to think I took advantage of the situation."
"A situation you created!" Harry called as he quietly shifted away from the outcropping and moved right, trying to get behind Shane.
"You must be quite hungry and very thirsty. I did however expect you to make it more of a challenge for me."
"Then why not show yourself and we can fight like men, not animals?"
"I know how good you are at hand to hand, Harry. Why would I give you a chance? Did Simon have a chance?" Shane yelled, his voice echoing off the rocks, making it difficult to pinpoint where he was.
"Simon had a chance, he chose wrong. He chose to follow his gutless older brother," Harry yelled, hoping to make Shane angry enough to show himself.
"Gutless! What do you know about me? About Simon?"
Hearing the snap of a twig to his left, Harry crouched down, waiting. Barely breathing, he quietly pulled one of the sharpened sticks he'd carved the night before from his pocket. Tensing, he heard Shane moving closer and prepared to strike.
"Come on now, Harry. Stand up and let's get this over with."
Peering around the rock he hid behind, Harry watched Shane inch closer, his hands loosely holding a high powered hunting rifle as he peered about him.
When he was close enough, Harry suddenly launched himself at Shane, knocking the rifle from his hands and sending it skittering away into the woods. Landing a punch to Shane's face, he almost laughed at the surprised look that filled his face.
"Not so sure of yourself one on one are you, Shane?" he asked as he wrestled him to the ground, the stick pressed into Shane's neck. "Give me one reason to not slice your throat. One reason."
"Go ahead, Harry," Shane said quietly as his body relaxed and his hands fell away from Harry. "Get it over with. Live with the knowledge you killed both Caldwell boys. Do it!"
Harry lips curled in disgust as he pushed harder. "You don't know how much I want to right now," Harry growled, his hands shaking. "Answer me this…are Dylan and Sean safe?"
Shane began to laugh, the stick pricking the skin on his neck and causing a thin thread of blood to run down his neck. "Sean and Dylan…I can't tell you that, Harry. They were last I saw but…" he shrugged.
"Damn you," he whispered. "If anything happens to them I will kill you. Why couldn't you have kept it between us? Those boys are innocent."
"Not if they have contact with you. Their father isn't innocent nor is their mother. I must admit, it would be hard to order them killed but…"
Fear for the boys flared through Harry and he fought the urge to push the stick in all the way. If Shane died, the boys might also die. And he couldn't take that chance.
Sensing Harry's indecision Shane suddenly lashed out, landing a blow to the side of Harry's head, staggering him. Before he could recover, Shane flipped him off of him and to the side. Before Harry could rise, Shane was on him, his hands around his throat as he tried his best to strangle him. Feeling the strength begin to drain from him as he fought for breath, Harry brought his right hand up and punched Shane in the nose then rolled, straddling Shane and using the palm of his hand to smash his nose again, smiling at Shane's cry.
"Are the boys all right," he asked again as he pressed his elbow against Shane's throat.
"I...I won't tell you. You figure it out," he managed to say just as he clapped both hands over Harry's ears, causing him to bellow in pain. Pushing Harry off him, Shane rose, standing over him for a second before he reached down and pulled Harry to his feet, landing several quick jabs to Harry's unprotected stomach, knocking him to the ground again.
Shane stood, hands on his knees and panting as Harry scrambled to his feet and came after him, anger marring his face. Before he got close, Shane landed a blistering punch to Harry's face and followed up with an uppercut to his chin. Staggering backwards, Harry felt his feet slip on the crumbling edge of the canyon walls and before he could stop himself, fell over the rim.
Landing hard on the unforgiving rocks, he bounced his way down the side of the gorge and landed in the rushing water close to the base of the falls, disappearing quickly under the water.
From the ravine top, Shane raced to the edge and watched as Harry hit the water and disappeared. Looking down the gorge he watched for any sign he had survived the fall but saw nothing but the rushing, frothing of the river that spread out from the base of the falls.
"I need to know you're dead," he muttered as he found his rifle and with one last look into the ravine, followed a path down that Harry hadn't noticed.
Reaching the bottom, he looked up and down the raging river's banks, trying to see his adversary. "Where are you, Nelson?" he yelled. "That was too easy of an ending between us! Damn it! Where are you?"
Enraged at having his foe snatched from him before he had thoroughly vented his anger, he headed off towards the falls, its roar drowning out all sound but the raging water coursing over the precipice. Stopping by the base, the mist from the falls hitting him, he stared about, looking to the far shore but saw nothing. Deciding to follow the bank away from the falls, he began to head off downstream, searching the rocky shoreline for any sign of the man whose death he eagerly awaited.
~000~
Angie Wood sat listlessly at her desk, her phone trapped against her left ear as she listened to the person on the other end of the line complain about how they needed to speak to Admiral Nelson now about their project proposal response that was overdue and why wasn't he available?
Lazily, she wrote the number 3 over and over again on her notepad as she waited for an opening in the conversation to tell the man on the other end of the line what she had been telling people for three days now: Admiral Nelson will get back to you when he can and not before. Or at least a nicer version of that.
Finally, the illustrious Dr. Jos Davidenas, head of some world renowned research facility or other paused for a breath and Angie pounced on her opportunity. "As I've already told you, Dr. Davidenas, I will have Admiral Nelson call as soon as he is available. You will be the first person he calls, I assure you. The admiral is very interested in your work and your proposal and will be in contact. Yes, thank you. Goodbye."
All but slamming the phone down in irritation, she looked to her pad filled with 3s and ripped the sheet off, crumpled it and threw it in her waste can. Three days. It had been three days and no word. How could he have just disappeared? The birthday party was supposed to be a happy affair but now, it was just a reminder of how quickly things could change, for all of them.
Restless, she got up and paced about the outer office to Admiral Nelson's, pausing every once in awhile as if she heard the phone ring. Frustrated, she left and went a few doors down to Lee Crane's office. Stopping outside she looked in to see him sitting with his head in his hands, worry and fear written in his posture.
"Knock, knock," she joked as she leaned on the door frame.
Looking up, he quickly wiped the anxiety from his face and smiled. "How's it going?" he asked.
"Same. People want to talk to the admiral and they want to talk to him now. I keep saying the same thing over and over. 'He'll be in contact soon'. I only hope it's the truth," she finished quietly.
Lee rose from his desk and walked to her, enveloping her in his arms. "It is. Something will break soon."
"I hope so. But..."
"But?" he asked when she stopped as if she didn't want to voice the thought she'd stopped from coming out her mouth.
"I've had a lot of time to think and I keep thinking about Shane Caldwell being released from the PR prison and I wonder why. Was it that his time was up or...or did they release him so that he could bring the admiral to them?"
Lee sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. It had been a thought that he had spent many a sleepless hour over: a thought he had no answer for. "I don't know, Angie. I admit I've had the same thought. Admiral Starke has had the same thought. Chip has had the same thought. So have the authorities. But there's no evidence, no Intel, no information, and no word from any international agency that the admiral was the victim of a kidnapping. There's no proof he was taken for ransom or captured for the information he possesses or his knowledge."
"I know. I know. I've heard those exact same words but I just can't help feeling useless, powerless. Something happened to him and no one knows what!"
"I know. Believe me."
"Have you talked to Bobby or Mandy?" Angie asked knowing the two were upset about what had happened and rightfully so.
"I did earlier today. They're hanging in there. They're waiting for someone with answers to call them just as we are."
The shrill ringing of the phone had both jumping. "Crane here," Lee called into the phone.
"Put him on," he replied.
"Who is it?" Angie asked quietly.
"It's Starke. Hopefully he has information. Let me put him on speakerphone."
A short second later, Starke's gruff voice came over the speaker. "We may have something," he said without preamble.
"What?" Lee and Angie asked in unison.
"Shane Caldwell has a cabin in the North Cascades in Washington."
"And?' Lee asked.
"The last time anyone saw Shane Caldwell and the last time he used a credit card was a few weeks ago in a little town in Washington called Pinedale. FBI agents questioned residents of the small town and showed a picture of Caldwell we managed to scrounge up. A shopkeeper swears Caldwell was there a few weeks ago, buying rope and animal traps."
"Animal traps? Why...?"
"I don't know why Crane. I'm just telling you they were on his shopping list. This Pinedale is about a thirty minute drive from where this cabin is rumored to be."
"Why didn't we know this a few days ago?" Lee exploded. "We could have been there and what do you mean rumored to be?"
"Settle down, Crane. The reason I said rumored is we've had trouble locating it."
"Why?"
"The cabin belonged to his uncle, a Brock Franks, not Caldwell."
"And Franks is being helpful, right?" Lee asked.
"Actually, he's dead, so no. The cabin was left to the Caldwell boys a few years ago while Shane was still enjoying PR hospitality. We have an approximate location for the cabin and we're in contact with rangers in the area but so far no one is sure of the exact location. Locals haven't been helpful. All they say is Franks was a reclusive. He'd show up periodically in town for supplies and disappear again. He had no friends, no one he contacted when in town, except for the storekeepers for resupplying. The US Park Service has been notified and they've sent BOLOs out to all their rangers in the back country stations."
"Great. First bit of good' news we get and we don't really get it," Lee growled.
"It's more than we had. We're closer to finding him than we were. And it's better to think of him in some cabin in the woods than...than in The People's Republic," Angie finished quietly.
"The People's Republic! Who said anything about Harriman being in The People's Republic?" Starke exploded.
"She had already come to the same thought we all have had, Sir."
"Well, Harriman's presence in The PR would be something someone would crow about. And no one has intimated in any way, shape or form that Harriman is in The PR. Or on his way there. Or anywhere else. We'd know by now. So he isn't."
"I agree," Lee said echoed by a weak assent from Angie.
"What do we do now?" Lee asked. "Mount an expedition to go up to Washington? Because I know 124 men that would jump at the chance."
"And one woman," Angie added quietly.
"What about taking FS-1 up there and do flyovers?" Lee asked. "We could..."
"First off, flying over with FS-1 may just spook Caldwell enough that he may do something drastic. Like kill Harry if he has him and they're there. Secondly, I doubt you would have had much luck using the Flying Sub. This area is densely forested. You wouldn't be able to see anything unless he was in a clearing. Bad weather is moving in but once it passes, ground search teams will head out. This cabin can't be that well hidden."
"So we wait? Again," Lee said disgusted and tired of waiting.
"For now," Starke ordered. "For now."