Author's Note: Well, I became a bit of a NaNoWriMo rebel during the course of November. Instead of focusing on a single novel, I ended up writing on several different fan fictions in addition to my novel. Forsaken was one of them. I now have at least the skeleton of several chapters. This month I will be revising and filling them out and hope to update at least a few times.
As always, thanks go to my beta reader and NaNo writing buddy, Katbybee – thank you especially for all the word sprints that helped me reach my 50,000 word goal! – to my husband and son for their patience with me as I read everything out loud to them, and to all of you, my faithful and very patient readers! Thank you especially to everyone who has left a review — your encouragement means a lot to me!
•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•
Glossary (Russian – English)
Ey, krasavitsa – Hey, beautiful!
Muy politsiya – We're police!
•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•
The flight to Mogocha was short. Chin and Danny followed the women out of the helicopter; Joe and Frank brought up the rear. Bama disappeared into the airport terminal, looking for the bar and muttering about needing a shot of Pyat Ozer. Chin wasn't sure what that was, but would put his money on vodka if he were a betting man.
As the team moved through the terminal, Chin noticed a group of eight rough-looking men tagging after them, their attention focused on Kono, Lyudmila, and Alex. His cousin could take care of herself, but even so, Chin was protective. Anyone who threatened her would still be spinning from her powerful roundhouse kick when he felt Chin's fist slam into his face. Just to drive home the point, of course. And when Chin was done, he knew Danny would be waiting in line… Steve too, if he could be here now. Even if Kono didn't need their protection, her trio of self-appointed older brothers would always have her back.
The leering men stepped closer, seemingly oblivious to the three American men who shadowed the women's steps. As they exited through the terminal doors into the bright Siberian day, the gang grew bolder. They maneuvered themselves in front of the women, then turned and blocked the way. The passageway did not allow for the women simply to walk past. Then the gang leader made the mistake of getting in Kono's face.
"Ey, krasavitsa," he slurred. He lifted a silver flask to his lips for a quick swig before making what Chin guessed to be a lurid suggestion, based on Lyudmila's horrified gasp. Chin didn't need to know Russian to know what the drunk wanted. The women rolled their eyes and Kono shoved past him. All three walked on, but Alex turned back to answer the man in Russian, tossing him a gesture that needed no translation and brought a blush to Lyudmila's cheeks. Unfortunately, this brash response did nothing to discourage the drunk or his friends. Chin darted forward to position himself near his cousin, but by this point the gang had surrounded the women, effectively cutting them off from the rest of their group. A crowd of onlookers began to take notice, but no one said a word or stepped up to help.
Chin cast his gaze around, looking for local law enforcement. He figured it was better for them to deal with these characters than for the team to spark an international incident. Near the airport entrance, a pair of police officers leaned against a wall, watching, but apparently uninterested in breaking things up. Chin shouted for them, but they simply ignored him.
"Hey!" Danny shouted, and he spouted off his few lines of Russian as he dropped the bag he was carrying and drew up next to Chin. But the gang wasn't listening. They were too busy trying to get away from Kono's kicks and punches. Alex fought alongside her. Chin had to admit, the young journalist was scrappy, probably had a bunch of older brothers who toughened her up till she could give as good as she got. Meanwhile, Lyudmila stood in one place, red-faced and scolding, and whenever a gang member stepped near her, she whacked him hard with her handbag. Faced with three women who would not be cowed, the minions soon fled. Kono shoved the gang leader aside and Chin caught hold of him. He gripped the sorry excuse for a man firmly by the arm, drew back his free hand, and delivered a knife hand strike to his neck.
Chin let the unconscious man slide to the ground and stepped to Kono's side. "Thanks for sending one my way, Cuz," he quipped. "I know you didn't have to." Then he frowned at the sight of the police officers, finally walking their way. "Well, it's about time," he muttered. He expected to see them haul at least the gang leader off to jail. To his surprise, the first officer ignored the gang members and turned all his anger on Chin, his words coming out in a torrent of Russian as he jabbed the air with his index finger.
"I don't understand you!" Chin's protest did no good; obviously the officer did not understand him either.
When Alex attempted to translate, the second officer quickly shut her up. And when she pulled out a wad of rubles and waved them in his face, he turned bright red and pushed her hand away, jabbering angrily and threatening her with a pair of handcuffs. She backed off, her hands raised, and kept quiet.
Without the benefit of translation, Chin had no idea why he was the one the one in trouble instead of the gang members, who had joined the crowd of onlookers. When he resisted arrest, the officer drew a gun on him. Chin's fingers itched to pull his own holstered weapon, but instead he raised his hands in the air. As flustered as he was, he knew that drawing on a police officer would not help his case in any way.
Alex had maneuvered herself next to him. "Just cooperate," she said quietly. "We will take care of this. We will get you free… If we must, I will call Marina again and she will help us."
Chin heard Danny's voice raised above the commotion. "This isn't right! Muy politsiya!" Out of the corner of his eye, Chin glimpsed Joe holding the shorter man back while the second officer trained a gun on him.
"It's not worth it, Danny," Chin called out. "Just go get Steve. Then come back for me. I'll be OK." He surrendered his weapon, then allowed the police officer to fit handcuffs on his wrists and lead him away.
The team watched, stunned, as Chin let himself be pushed into the back of a small police car. The officer who had arrested him strutted around to the front, leaving the small group of Americans huddled together in shock. The gang leader had regained consciousness by now and slunk off to lick his wounds.
•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•
Colonel Ryong bit back a groan. Every nerve ending ached. He wasn't sure whether it was more a result of the jarring impact of truck into tree, or the long hike into the woods that had left him feeling as if he had been run over by a tank. If their journey over the past several hours had proved anything, it was that the colonel was not in the peak physical condition he imagined. He lagged several meters behind Arkady, frequently barking at the long-legged man to "Slow down, for goodness' sake!" The serviceman would stop and wait for him to catch up and then would soon stride ahead once again. At last, though, hours after the wreck, they were only a matter of about fifty meters from the tracking device. The woods were thick, so Ryong was not surprised he saw no sign of their prey. He drew his Yargaryn pistol and held it at the ready. Arkady had his rifle up, ready to shoot.
"Do not shoot to kill," Ryong hissed. "They must be brought alive to Pyongyang, to be made an example." The Russian only grunted. Clearly, the man did not understand the importance of this mission. Were Arkady one of Ryong's countrymen, his lack of enthusiasm would almost certainly guarantee him and his family a miserable existence in a labor camp. Before they stepped beyond the last stand of trees, the imbecile even crossed himself. Ryong scoffed at such superstitious nonsense. Why had he been assigned such a man to assist him? For that matter, why couldn't Dmitri have been the one to survive? Dmitri was a seasoned soldier, thrilled with the idea of joining Ryong on the hunt, but Arkady had on several occasions voiced sympathy for their prey. Yes, he was practically useless. Almost… at least he was carrying the heavier pack.
Only five meters more… "Softly, now. We do not wish to waken them until we are in position." They stepped through the trees to find… nothing. No one was there. Ryong pressed a button on his receiver to set off a long shrill noise from the tracking device. The sound pierced the early morning, and Ryong easily located the tracker lying in the dirt at the base of a fir tree.
He yanked up the device and hurled it as hard as he could at the tree. It bounced off and lay at his feet, the blinking green light taunting him. "They know we are hunting them," he growled. "Or else Chul-Gun has betrayed me, but I cannot imagine he would. No matter… he is a dead man when I find him! I must bring McGarret and Pak Hun-Ji back alive, but Rhee Chul-Gun does not matter in the least. Him I may kill!"
"Perhaps you may do that in your country, Colonel," Arkady said flatly, for the first time standing his ground. "But you have no such authority here. I will not let you kill the man. If you try I will march you by gunpoint to the nearest town and have you taken into custody."
"And if I kill you here, who will know?" Colonel Ryong shook with fury as he aimed his pistol at Arkady. He was not accustomed to having his words met with defiance.
"You will not kill me," Arkady stated. "I will not kill indiscriminately, but neither will I neglect to defend myself. I was assigned to serve you, and so I will. But I am not bound to allow you to commit murder. Besides…" And here, the glint in his eye mocked the colonel. "Without me, who will carry your bags or lead you back to civilization?"
Ryong ground his teeth. He would simply have to bide his time. The Russian was taller than he, and fool though he was, he was extremely strong. Even if the colonel managed to overpower and shoot him, he had made a good point — who would carry the bags or lead the way? Ryong had no wish to be alone in this dismal place, nor did he feel prepared to apprehend the traitors and the spy alone. He lowered his gun. "Get moving… I was told you are an expert tracker. Find their trail and let's move."
"This I will do." Arkady bent to examine the dirt where the tracking device had landed. "It came from the south," he said, pointing past Ryong. "That way." Ryong followed him through the woods. The tall serviceman stooped low and moved slowly, carefully surveying the ground. Finally, something stopped him for a long moment, though Ryong could not see what. At last he stood up straight. "This is where they stood. I see signs of a scuffle. Four men moved off in that direction."
Seething, Ryong walked behind Arkady, trying but failing to see the trail he followed.
•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•
Lyudmila scowled at the officer who manned the desk in Mogocha's police headquarters. "The man did nothing wrong, Lieutenant! You are the criminals if you hold him any longer. I have contacted the US Consul in Vladivostok and he is not well-pleased at this turn of events!" She hoped the man would quake in his boots, but she was disappointed.
"Babushka," he said, and she could tell he was attempting to sound polite. He failed, and she resented the implication that she was an old grandmother to be placated. "Please, Babushka. Of course we are willing to discuss Mr. Kelly's case with the Consul when he arrives. Until then, he will remain where he is."
Her eyes darted left, then right, and then she brought out her pocketbook and lowered her voice. "Please, Officer. Surely I can convince you to help us." She pulled out the dollars that the Americans had given her. Unlike many police in the region, the officer who had arrested Chin Ho Kelly considered himself above accepting a bribe; hopefully, this one would not.
He glanced down at the substantial amount of money, likewise looking left and right before accepting it and slipping it into his pocket. "Fine. I will see what I can do, babushka. I am sorry for the trouble you have experienced. We are mostly a good-hearted lot here, but Sergeant Sokolov is known for his dislike of foreigners, especially…" He frowned and leaned closer. "Well… you know what I mean… that sort of foreigner."
Lyudmila stiffened. She was not sure if the lieutenant meant Chin's race or his nationality. It didn't really matter. "All I know is that a good man has been arrested, while the men who attempted to assault my friends have gone free!"
"As I said, I am sorry. Have a seat in the waiting area, please, and I will see how I can help you." He opened the door and gestured for her to step into the hallway ahead of him.
Danny, Joe, Kono, and Alex sat in the waiting room while Dr. Ivanova talked with the officer on desk duty in Mogocha's police headquarters. They hoped she might manage to get Chin released, or at least get in to see him. If she could not bring him out, perhaps she could at least bring out information about where his cell was.
They had called the nearest American Consulate, but that was in Vladivostok, and it would take the consul's representative more than a full day to get to this backwater. Danny was pretty sure securing Chin's release would be up to the five of them. Well, the four of them. Alex was willing to help, but Danny didn't want her to have any trouble that might affect her professionally. A call to her friend Marina had gone unanswered — most likely, she was already making the long drive from Tynda back to Yakutsk and had no reception.
At the moment, Danny felt torn. Steve was out there somewhere, needing rescue, and yet they couldn't just leave Chin. Could they? The last thing Chin had said to them was to go get Steve… It wasn't like these police were going to risk an international incident by letting something happen to Chin before the consul arrived.
At last, about the time Danny started pacing the waiting room floor, Dr. Ivanova came bustling out the door. The others stood and Danny turned to face her. "What's the news?" Danny asked for them all.
"The Lieutenant… he say… he try. We must wait."
Danny sighed. "I hate this… it's just putting us further behind."
Joe grunted under his breath. "We shouldn't have bothered with the lieutenant. We could have gotten him out of here ourselves easily. I've been casing the place… their security is pitiful!"
Lyudmila frowned at the suggestion. "You do not wish… get arrested also, Mr. White. And you do not wish… Mr. Kelly have trouble when you leave Russia."
"She's right." Danny just hoped the lieutenant really could help. "If they can't spring him, we'll have to go after Steve and leave Chin to the Consul."
Kono frowned, but finally nodded her agreement. Joe shrugged and said Danny was the boss. And both Alex and Lyudmila expressed that he had made a wise decision, even if it was a difficult one. They all settled in silently to wait.
Twenty minutes later, the lieutenant conducted Chin Ho Kelly into the waiting area. He pulled a bulky envelope from under his jacket. "Your passport and personal effects, Mr. Kelly. You are free to go. I apologize for your inconvenience."
The Five-0 team surrounded Chin and clapped him on the back.
"Good to see you again, buddy," Danny said. "Let's go get Steve."
•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•
Arkady made a show of checking the ground again. He hoped that the haughty North Korean colonel would not catch on. He had been assigned to assist the colonel in capturing the escapees, but he knew what they faced when they were returned to Pyongyang, and he hated being a part of that. Like a good soldier, he had obeyed his orders, but now he felt he had a legitimate reason to refuse those orders — the colonel had pulled a gun on him, threatening his life if he did not go along with his plan to commit outright murder.
He had led the colonel as instructed, carefully observing the path until he found the marks of a trail. It had been obscured, beyond the ken of an amateur like Ryong. No doubt, Steve McGarrett, former Navy SEAL, was responsible. Following the trail had become something of a game for Arkady, a true test of his skills. This McGarrett had quickly gained the Russian's respect and his sympathy.
Arkady judged the trail to be at least six hours old. Without a word to the colonel, he led the way forward slower than necessary, hoping to give the men plenty of time to lengthen their lead. When he came to a place where he found evidence of an attack — blood on a rock, vegetation disturbed, the path swept clean of tracks — he said nothing to Ryong. He could even see where something — most likely a body-had been dragged into the woods, but Ryong did not see it. From this point, only two had walked on. He wondered which two.
As Arkady had known it would, after several hours their trail crossed a road. If followed to the west, the road would take them to the small village of his birth. He knew this land as well as he did because he had been brought up here. Now he glanced back at the colonel, noting with satisfaction that the man was struggling to keep up. The weight of his rifle seemed too much. "Colonel Ryong," he said, and he bowed in a show of respect. "I have been insolent. You are a great man, and I should not have questioned your judgment. Allow me to lighten your load and carry your rifle."
A blaze of fury ignited briefly in the colonel's eyes, but was quickly quenched as exhaustion overtook both pride and caution. Ryong slowly nodded his agreement and passed the rifle into Arkady's possession.
Instead of slinging the rifle over his shoulder, Arkady leveled it at the colonel, all show of respect forgotten. "I am placing you under arrest. Drop your pistol and your knife on the ground, now."
"You are arresting me?!" Despite his protest, Ryong threw down his weapons and raised his arms, all the while glaring daggers at Arkady. "What do you mean by this? I will have you court-martialed!"
Arkady's eyes burned into Ryong's. He knew Korean culture dictated that a low-level sergeant like himself must never dare to look an officer of higher rank in the eyes; now he purposely defied this custom to indicate his utter loathing of the man. "Colonel, I am honor-bound to prevent you from committing murder. We will take this road and walk to the next village, where I will arrange for transport to Mogocha. Most likely, you will be sent back across the border and prevented from returning."
Though he spoke confidently, Arkady knew his words might not be true — his superiors probably didn't care about the life or death of an insignificant Korean logger or the American spy. Arkady might well find himself facing severe discipline for his actions. It would be safer to allow Ryong to do as he had planned and make the excuse that he was "only following orders" if questions arose. But Arkady's mother and father had taught him long ago to choose the right way rather than the safe way, and he was convinced that the right thing to do now was to allow the escapees an opportunity to elude their hunter, and so he would buy them some time.
Without taking his eyes — or the rifle — off the colonel, Arkady kicked the pistol and knife into the brush, then reached into his back pocket for a zip-tie. He closed the space between himself and Ryong in a couple of long strides. Once he had zip-tied the colonel's hands behind him, he pushed him forward and barked out the order to march.
•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•
Too tired to go any further that day, Imyarek and Ji finally stopped to rest. Ji had seen a cave and he guided Imyarek in that direction. Together the exhausted men labored up a steep slope toward the hole. Before they reached the entrance, though, Imyarek saw a dark blur came lunging out at them, a growl emanating from its throat. Adrenaline rushed through him, bringing him instantly fully awake to assess the situation. They had happened upon the den of a bear. He knew the creatures would prepare their dens and move in during the autumn, but would not actually sleep right away. Instead they would lie awake and watchful at the entrance to the den, ready to attack anyone who drew near. If this bear were a mother of young cubs, she would be particularly dangerous.
Imyarek was glad he had insisted on carrying the spear he'd made. He gripped it tight in his hand and then lifted it, at the same time moving forward toward the mass of angry claws and fur and teeth. He shook the spear and shouted as loud as he could. "Ya! Ya! Ya!" Then he poked the spear at the huge creature. He wanted to draw it away from Ji, unwilling for another friend to face death on his behalf. His tactic worked. The bear turned and swiped at the long spear. "Get away, Ji!" Imyarek shouted. "Fast… up a tree!"
Unwilling to turn his back on the creature, he backed away a little bit, and it followed him. Aiming for the eyes, he poked with the spear and shouted a taunt. The bear growled, then swiped the spear from his hand, breaking it and knocking it to the ground. Imyarek danced to one side, shouting and waving his good arm. He wanted to get himself away, to get up a tree… but when he backed up against a trunk, he found the branches were too high for him, especially with only one functioning arm. The bear lumbered after him, faster than he thought possible. Finally, he turned to run, but before he could take a step, he felt the sting of claws as they raked across his back. He stumbled forward, faceplanting in the leaves and bracken. Covering his head with his good arm, he closed his eyes and steeled himself for another attack.
•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•
The attack never came. What neither Imyarek nor the bear had seen was Ji creeping up behind the great creature, the sharpened end of the broken spear held tight in his hand. Ji stabbed the weapon as hard as he could into the back of the huge animal. It turned its attention toward him, taking two steps in Ji's direction before falling to the ground. Ji dispatched the creature quickly, then hurried to Imyarek's side.
"Imyarek… Imyarek!" he said, gently shaking his friend's shoulder. Imyarek only moaned. Ji closed his eyes tight for a moment, took a deep breath, and then opened them again. He carefully appraised the American's condition.
There in the woods, with no supplies to speak of, Ji was uncertain what to do, but he knew he had to try something. Ji could not simply let his friend die. He fetched water from the river and used it to wash out the wounds. "I have to stop the bleeding," he breathed out as he pulled off his shirt. He tore the garment into strips and bound up Imyarek's wounded back and sides. The American shivered, though his skin was burning hot. "Shock," Ji whispered, wishing he were better equipped to do something about this.
After the initial groans, Imyarek did not respond to Ji's voice or touch. "Must get him out of here… to a town." They had crossed a dirt road not far back, and he was sure it must lead somewhere — if not to a town, then maybe to someone with a vehicle who could help them.
Ji no longer cared about obscuring their trail, removing all signs of their passage. Imyarek had insisted on it, but now it would take time they did not have.
Near the river, a tree had recently fallen. Ji used his knife to hack some limbs from the trunk. He had enough rope left to rig a makeshift drag sled and a shoulder harness. After carefully pulling Imyarek onto the drag-sled, he slipped the harness over his shoulder and began the arduous journey back to the dirt road.
He traversed the faint trail that had brought them to the cave, then headed back to the path they had been following. Turning north, he walked back to the road. There at the juncture, a glint of sunlight on metal caught his eye. He bent to investigate. Lying beside the trail was a pistol and a knife. The sight chilled him — perhaps the men hunting him and Imyarek were close by. But he had no choice but to move onward. He secured the weapons inside his jacket and then went on, carefully pulling the drag-sled behind him. At the road, he turned west. He kept his ears perked for the sound of a car or truck engine. In this wilderness, he knew he might walk for an entire day without seeing a soul. He only hoped that if someone did appear, it would not be the hunter, but someone who could give them aid.
As he walked, Ji cast a prayer to the heavens, thinking of the buried Bible he had found among his father's things. The old man had prayed — Ji had vague memories of hearing it as a boy. But was there really anyone to hear? If ever there was, he hoped it was now, for he could not tend this broken man alone.