Out in the stand of pines, the cousins remained immobile, watching as
several large troop transport trucks rumbled in. Webb and Mac were roughly
loaded into one, multiple soldiers guarding them. Tikhomirov returned to his
car as the remaining soldiers quickly climbed into the trucks. A few minutes
later, the small convoy disappeared down the road, the Benz in the lead.
Once they were gone, Mercedes finally released her grip in her cousin,
moving away slightly. Harm stayed where he was, staring out into the clearing
where everything had transpired, even as the snow began to fall with renewed
vigor.
They stayed that way for some time, before CD cautiously broke the
thickening silence. "Harm?" she asked softly.
"They're gone, CD," was all he said, his voice raw. It was a tone of voice
she hadn't heard from him in many, many years.
She didn't know what to say to that, so instead she remained silent, just
watching him for a long moment. Outside the cover of the tree, the storm grew
wilder and colder. Mercedes felt the familiar and unpleasant sensation of the
chill creeping into her bones, stealing her warmth. Enough was enough; they had
to at least get inside.
She got to her feet, making sure to retrieve the bag. Still crouched over,
she wrapped a gentle hand around his arm. "Come on, we need to get out of this
storm." No reaction. Nothing. "Harm...?" Still nothing. She pulled on his
arm, gently but forcefully, and slowly, very slowly, he got to his feet.
This was not good, she thought. Gently, she wrapped her arm around his
waist, guiding his arm around her shoulders. He turned to look at her, his face
a mask of absolute desolation that hit her like a blow in her gut. "We'll get
them back, Harm," she told him determinedly. "I swear it."
"What if we don't?"
She went still for a moment, summoning every last ounce of determination and
sheer stubbornness to her face. "Then we'll die trying. I'm not leaving
without them, you, *and* your Dad."
Harm looked at her, studying her face. "You really mean that, don't you?"
She said nothing, nodding instead. He paused, considering, before he replied.
"All right, then. Let's go."
Together, they made their way back to the shelter of the house.
********************
Some time later, they sat on the floor in front of the fireplace, wrapped
in blankets and nursing cups of hot, dark tea to chase away the chill. Mercedes
maintained a wary eye on her cousin, as she had ever since Mac and Webb had been
taken. He'd said next to nothing since they returned to the house, giving only
monosyllabic answers when absolutely necessary.
Wherever his mind was, it wasn't here, although if Mercedes had to hazard a
guess, it was somewhere between here and Volgograd, on a military transport
truck. And she was willing to bet that his heart was right there with it.
Well, maybe if she was lucky (and stubborn and persistent, she admitted), she
could at least get most of one of them back here to help her.
She decided to take a bluntly practical approach, rather than a more
cautious route. She took a deep drink of her tea, then set the mug down.
"Okay," she announced, "here's the situation. Mac and Clay are prisoners of
some guy named Tikhomirov, who's apparently looking for us, while we are here in
a deserted house approximately 120 miles southwest of Yekaterinburg. Correct?"
Harm looked at her oddly for a moment before answering. What the hell was
Mercedes up to now? "Yeah, that's pretty much right."
She nodded succinctly. "Right. And our ultimate goal is A) get them back,
and then B) get the hell out of Russia, yes?"
"Yes," Harm said slowly, still uncertain where she was going with this.
"So, given we need to accomplish A before B, let's focus on that. As far
as we know, Tikhomirov is taking them to Volgograd, ergo, we need to get to
Volgograd and come up with a way to get them free."
This was getting a bit annoying. "Yes, Miss Obvious. And the point is?"
Harm replied testily.
His comment was met with a dirty look, although it looked like a grin was
hiding behind it. "There are two of them, actually. First, we need to come up
with some sort of course of action and get moving with it. Given what we saw, I
don't feel too inclined to leave either Mac or Clay in Tikhomirov's care for any
longer than necessary."
"True," Harm admitted. He hadn't quite thought of that... well, not yet,
anyway.
"Second," she continued, "You're the military person here, not me, and I
think it might be a good idea if you helped plan this fiasco. And you were too
busy moping to think about anything else."
"Hey--"
"And," she charged on, "I know of no better or surer way to get your
attention than to annoy the crap out of you."
Harm stared at her for a minute. "Damn it, sometimes I hate it when you're
right."
She shot him her own version of his (in)famous grin. "Hey, it worked,
didn't it?"
He grinned back. "Yes, it did, you sneak."
She shrugged. "Hey, desperate times and all that. Now, where were we?"
"*You* were saying we needed to get to Volgograd. How far are we talking
here?"
"Don't know for sure, but if memory serves... hmmm, let's see... Maybe 1200
miles?"
Harm quickly did the math. "Damn, that's a full day's worth of driving."
"Yeah..." Mercedes bit her lip in thought. Suddenly, her eyebrows rose, and
she gave Harm a sideways look. "Of course, that's assuming we're in a regular
car... But ya know, we're in the middle of nowhere, and we'll be traveling
through eastern nowhere to get where we're going... Now, say, if we had
something a little more exotic, a bit faster..."
Harm picked up on her thoughts. "Like, say, a Lamborghini?"
She grinned wickedly. "Exactly like that."
TBC......
several large troop transport trucks rumbled in. Webb and Mac were roughly
loaded into one, multiple soldiers guarding them. Tikhomirov returned to his
car as the remaining soldiers quickly climbed into the trucks. A few minutes
later, the small convoy disappeared down the road, the Benz in the lead.
Once they were gone, Mercedes finally released her grip in her cousin,
moving away slightly. Harm stayed where he was, staring out into the clearing
where everything had transpired, even as the snow began to fall with renewed
vigor.
They stayed that way for some time, before CD cautiously broke the
thickening silence. "Harm?" she asked softly.
"They're gone, CD," was all he said, his voice raw. It was a tone of voice
she hadn't heard from him in many, many years.
She didn't know what to say to that, so instead she remained silent, just
watching him for a long moment. Outside the cover of the tree, the storm grew
wilder and colder. Mercedes felt the familiar and unpleasant sensation of the
chill creeping into her bones, stealing her warmth. Enough was enough; they had
to at least get inside.
She got to her feet, making sure to retrieve the bag. Still crouched over,
she wrapped a gentle hand around his arm. "Come on, we need to get out of this
storm." No reaction. Nothing. "Harm...?" Still nothing. She pulled on his
arm, gently but forcefully, and slowly, very slowly, he got to his feet.
This was not good, she thought. Gently, she wrapped her arm around his
waist, guiding his arm around her shoulders. He turned to look at her, his face
a mask of absolute desolation that hit her like a blow in her gut. "We'll get
them back, Harm," she told him determinedly. "I swear it."
"What if we don't?"
She went still for a moment, summoning every last ounce of determination and
sheer stubbornness to her face. "Then we'll die trying. I'm not leaving
without them, you, *and* your Dad."
Harm looked at her, studying her face. "You really mean that, don't you?"
She said nothing, nodding instead. He paused, considering, before he replied.
"All right, then. Let's go."
Together, they made their way back to the shelter of the house.
********************
Some time later, they sat on the floor in front of the fireplace, wrapped
in blankets and nursing cups of hot, dark tea to chase away the chill. Mercedes
maintained a wary eye on her cousin, as she had ever since Mac and Webb had been
taken. He'd said next to nothing since they returned to the house, giving only
monosyllabic answers when absolutely necessary.
Wherever his mind was, it wasn't here, although if Mercedes had to hazard a
guess, it was somewhere between here and Volgograd, on a military transport
truck. And she was willing to bet that his heart was right there with it.
Well, maybe if she was lucky (and stubborn and persistent, she admitted), she
could at least get most of one of them back here to help her.
She decided to take a bluntly practical approach, rather than a more
cautious route. She took a deep drink of her tea, then set the mug down.
"Okay," she announced, "here's the situation. Mac and Clay are prisoners of
some guy named Tikhomirov, who's apparently looking for us, while we are here in
a deserted house approximately 120 miles southwest of Yekaterinburg. Correct?"
Harm looked at her oddly for a moment before answering. What the hell was
Mercedes up to now? "Yeah, that's pretty much right."
She nodded succinctly. "Right. And our ultimate goal is A) get them back,
and then B) get the hell out of Russia, yes?"
"Yes," Harm said slowly, still uncertain where she was going with this.
"So, given we need to accomplish A before B, let's focus on that. As far
as we know, Tikhomirov is taking them to Volgograd, ergo, we need to get to
Volgograd and come up with a way to get them free."
This was getting a bit annoying. "Yes, Miss Obvious. And the point is?"
Harm replied testily.
His comment was met with a dirty look, although it looked like a grin was
hiding behind it. "There are two of them, actually. First, we need to come up
with some sort of course of action and get moving with it. Given what we saw, I
don't feel too inclined to leave either Mac or Clay in Tikhomirov's care for any
longer than necessary."
"True," Harm admitted. He hadn't quite thought of that... well, not yet,
anyway.
"Second," she continued, "You're the military person here, not me, and I
think it might be a good idea if you helped plan this fiasco. And you were too
busy moping to think about anything else."
"Hey--"
"And," she charged on, "I know of no better or surer way to get your
attention than to annoy the crap out of you."
Harm stared at her for a minute. "Damn it, sometimes I hate it when you're
right."
She shot him her own version of his (in)famous grin. "Hey, it worked,
didn't it?"
He grinned back. "Yes, it did, you sneak."
She shrugged. "Hey, desperate times and all that. Now, where were we?"
"*You* were saying we needed to get to Volgograd. How far are we talking
here?"
"Don't know for sure, but if memory serves... hmmm, let's see... Maybe 1200
miles?"
Harm quickly did the math. "Damn, that's a full day's worth of driving."
"Yeah..." Mercedes bit her lip in thought. Suddenly, her eyebrows rose, and
she gave Harm a sideways look. "Of course, that's assuming we're in a regular
car... But ya know, we're in the middle of nowhere, and we'll be traveling
through eastern nowhere to get where we're going... Now, say, if we had
something a little more exotic, a bit faster..."
Harm picked up on her thoughts. "Like, say, a Lamborghini?"
She grinned wickedly. "Exactly like that."
TBC......