The Return
Chapter 14
As the two women sat on the sofa, Horatio eased down on the heavy table before them as he addressed Hella, "Sweetheart, tell me what's gotten you so upset," he cooed in a soft, caring voice that beckoned a response.
Listening to the woman explain the phone conversation she overheard, Horatio's demeanor quickly changed to seething anger. He dropped his head as he placed his elbows on his knees, his hands fidgeting in front of him, then when he heard that the man had spoken of Deidra, his head instantly shot up.
"You're sure you heard him mention the name Deidra?"
"Yes Mr. Horatio. That was the name he used. You know this person?"
Horatio looked over at a startled Calleigh as he answered, "I know her. Calleigh, stay here with Hella. I need to speak to Cross."
He stood and walked away from the women who began chatting softly. Before leaving the room, he hesitated a moment at the door hearing Calleigh reassuring Hella that she had done the right thing. He smiled slightly, Calleigh is a great comforter.
As Horatio walked down the hall to Cross's office, his mind filled with questions about what was going on. Agent Jones needed to explain his conversation. If it'd been me, I would have thought Cross was tied up in this; he still might be.
Not bothering to knock, Horatio opened the door to the office and found Cross studying the paperwork on his desk.
"Well, Lieutenant," the agent put down his pen and took off his glasses. "I guess you don't believe in knocking before entering a closed-door. What can I do for you tonight?"
Horatio despised the pompous, arrogant ass of a man sitting before him, but knew he needed him to find out what was going on.
"Where's Agent Jones?" Horatio asked firmly as he stopped on the other side of the desk, shifting his stance sideways.
Cross eyed the man suspiciously, "Why do you need to know?"
Horatio clenched his jaw and angrily spat out, "Is he here?" Turning now to face Cross directly.
The FBI agent huffed, "I sent him into town for supplies. He won't return until tomorrow morning. What's this about Caine?"
Horatio raised his eyebrows in surprise and tightened his lips as he looked down at the floor for a moment before answering.
"Was Jones' going your idea, or his?"
"Mine. Caine, I haven't got time for this game, now what is going on?" Cross asked exasperated as he stood up from his chair.
Horatio explained the phone conversation Hella overheard between Jones and another party, who perhaps was Deidra, or at least someone with connections to the woman.
Cross glared at the redhead standing defiantly before him, not believing what he heard. "You better be sure about this Caine, Jones is one of my top men he…"
"Everybody can be bought for a price Cross; you know that."
Cross reached in his coat breast pocket and pulled out his cell phone.
"I'll call him and get this cleared up right now."
"That wouldn't be the best thing to do. If he is tied up with the Russians, it'd be to our advantage for him to keep believing we don't know. They would take a different course of action otherwise. This way, they won't be as nervous about coming tomorrow."
Cross looked Horatio in the eye and asked, "You really think they're just gonna walk in here and take you and everyone out?"
"Not if we're ready," Horatio stared as he answered back, then requested, "I'd like for Calleigh and Hella to have a way to leave."
After working out a plan, Horatio walked back to the room where he'd left Calleigh and Hella. They were still sitting on the sofa anxiously waiting to hear what he'd learned from Cross.
"Horatio…" Calleigh softly called out to him. "What did you find out?"
He eased himself back down on the coffee table and replied, "Jones left earlier to get supplies from town. Cross is highly skeptical that the young man is involved, but admits we need to set up a plan, just in case."
Knowing Calleigh would resist his suggestion, he'd made up his mind that he'd stand firm behind his decision. He couldn't take a chance.
"I want you and Hella to pack your things and be ready to leave tonight."
Calleigh had already begun shaking her head in disagreement. "I'm not leaving you here Horatio. I'm staying."
Steeling himself for what he knew would more than likely be a losing battle, he countered firmly, "Calleigh… listen to reason. The Russians want me, not you, but they'll kill anyone who is near me."
Hella interrupted, "Russians? That's what this is about?" The older woman drew in a deep breath then angrily added, "I stay too. I hate Russians. After the war, what Hitler didn't destroy, the Russians marched in and plundered; worse than Hitler. I fight for my country, for my heritage!"
Horatio was taken aback by Hella's strong resolve about staying. It caught him completely off-guard.
"Hella, I can't let you. These people… these people are worse. They're professional thugs, murderers, members of the Russian Mob. You're not trained…"
Startling both, Calleigh and Horatio, Hella leapt to her feet and shouted, "I shoot gun! I trained as a girl by Russians - top of my class with rifle!"
Horatio lowered his head into his hand and let out a ragged breath as he rubbed his forehead. "This is different," he said before raising his head and looking straight at Calleigh, "Please go with Hella… I couldn't handle it if anything happened to either of you."
"I thought I'd lost you one time Horatio Caine; I'm not going to let that happen for real," Calleigh replied giving him a firm look. "I think we're both old enough to make our own decisions. We're staying." She squeezed Hella's hand as she diverted her attention to the older woman who had sat back down.
"YA!" Hella shouted, "Stay… help you Mr. Horatio."
Knowing there was no point in continuing; Horatio stood and said, "Both of you get some sleep. You're going to need it."
Calleigh's eyes locked with Horatio's and she asked, "What about you? You need to rest."
His lips turning into a faint smile he replied, "I have things to do."
Returning to Cross's office, Horatio could hear the wind picking up outside, buffeting against the building. Limbs were hitting the roof, the snow doing little to diminish the impact.
The FBI agent was holding his phone out in front of himself, dialing a number then he abruptly ended the call and tossed the phone on the desk.
"Cell phone service is out. The wind probably took down a relay tower. This is supposedly a major storm, hopefully, it will slow our visitors down."
Horatio placed both hands on his hips and grimaced as he stared at the floor, "I wouldn't count on it." Looking around the room he asked, "What about the 2-way radio? It might get through."
Cross stood and walked around his desk as he replied, "Let's hope."
The two men were standing at the radio in the small room down the hall from Cross's office when Calleigh entered. "Calling for reinforcements?"
Cross didn't acknowledge the question, but Horatio turned and quietly answered her, "Trying; cell phone service is out and the radio seems to be as well." Hesitating he decided to try to persuade her again, "Calleigh…"
"NO… I can read your mind Horatio… I'm staying. Need I remind you that you're not one-hundred percent yet?"
Frustrated, Cross removed the headphones and flipped the switch to off. "There's no use. We can't reach anyone for help." Turning to face the couple he added, "Looks like it'll just be us and Hernandez."
"We'd better check all our weapons and amount of ammo. Then come up with a plan," Horatio responded.
Later, just before dawn, Horatio lay on his back in the bed beside Calleigh – his eyes wide open. He was glad that she had slept off and on and now, she was sound asleep. The wind was still howling outside the lodge, hitting the building with full force, now and then there was a bang of a shutter, or something loose outside being tossed about, but then his ears picked up on a sound that was new – different.
He turned toward Calleigh and wondered if it was necessary to wake her. He quickly decided it was.
Whispering as he jostled her gently he said, "Calleigh… Sweetheart…"
Her eyes shot open and she turned her head towards him.
"Handsome… what…" replying softly.
Still whispering he interrupted, "I heard a different noise, that I don't think is from the storm. I didn't want to leave you asleep while I checked it out."
"I'm going with you."
Both crept to the door of their room, each with their guns firmly gripped in hand as they carried them down by their side.
Before opening the door, Horatio looked Calleigh in the eye and said firmly, "Stay behind me. Understand?"
Dawn was breaking over the rolling golden plains as Daniel Caine sat in the small private plane terminal at the Cheyenne, Wyoming airport calling the FAA office in Butte, Montana to get the latest update on weather conditions for Kalispell.
"Alright… thanks. Perhaps we can get there by car," he stated before ending the call.
Of all times to be stranded… For all I know, the Russians may have found Horatio by now. He closed his weary eyes and thought, dear God, please don't let those animals hurt my son. There is so much I need to straighten out about our relationship in the short time I've got left… so much to try to make up for.
One of the pilots entered the room where Daniel was sitting.
"What did you find out about the weather?"
Daniel opened his eyes and turned toward the man. "Glacier National Park is being socked by a strong winter storm; doesn't appear it will be letting up anytime soon. Looks like my only option will be to get there by car." Daniel looked up at the young man and requested, "Get me a limousine service that has four-wheel drive vehicles… I'll get there."
"Geez Louise it's still freezing in here," Frank bellowed as the large Range Rover dug into the heavy snow lumbering along at a painfully slow pace as the faint light of dawn revealed the falling snow was getting heavier.
Jared smiled at the big man's comment as he watched the road.
Walter responded as he leaned forward toward the front seat, "It's not any warmer back here Sarge." Reaching over the seat back with a gloved hand he asked, "Where's one of those thermoses of coffee?"
Frank handed his colleague a thermos and then decided to open another, taking a large swig in hopes the black, steaming hot liquid would help warm his painfully cold body.
As the coffee began to warm, Frank turned to his left and asked the sheriff, "Tell us again why we had to start out for this airfield in the dead of night?"
Jared completed the turn onto another road that was quickly becoming white, before answering.
"Winter storm headed this way. We need to get up there and back before we get snowed in. Hopefully, we'll be able to do that."
Finally a building appeared as they rounded one more curve after travelling for an hour. It was a hangar at the abandoned airstrip. No vehicles in sight anywhere.
The three men left the relative comfort of the SUV and walked the best they could, fighting a strong cold wind and blowing snow, to the building. Jared tried the door before them and to their surprise it opened.
Stepping inside, they began brushing the snow off their coats and stamping their feet to rid their boots of snow and ice.
Walter found a light switch and tried it wondering if the place had electricity. It didn't. Jared was the first to turn on the large flashlight in his hand and the others followed suit. What they saw sitting before them made Frank's mouth open in shock.
It was a plane; more specifically, the exact plane that had brought Calleigh. The registration number on the tail was identical to the one his friend had tracked. November167TangoFoxtrot.
Walter chimed up, "Could this be the plane that…"
Frank spoke up suddenly, "You're damn right it is."
Jared walked around the airplane, inspecting it carefully. He stopped at an inspection panel on the right side rear of the airplane and read the placard, Property of the U.S. Government.
"Gentlemen, I think you need to see this."
Frank and Walter walked to where the sheriff stood beside the plane. They read what he pointed to.
Walter and Frank exchanged puzzled looks before reading again to make sure they were correct in what they saw.
"What in the hell is going on?" Walter chimed up inquisitively.
Frank pressed his lips together until they were a thin line before he answered. "I don't know, but we're damn well going to find out."
"There's an old ski lodge about ten miles further up the mountain. Been abandoned for years as far as I know. Your colleague could be held there, it would be a perfect hiding place. We might be able to make it up there with the vehicle we're in," the sheriff offered, "but, I can't make any promises."
Frank responded, "What are we waiting for?"
TBC…