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Chapter Seventeen

"In the Line of Fire"

"Kermit!" Celeste shouted as Kermit went down at the front door, pushing her away, and taking a bullet meant for her. He didn't pause as he fired back. He tried to crawl out of the line of fire, but failed.

Celeste reloaded her rifle and shouted to Ansel, "Grab him, I'll cover you."

Ansel took Kermit by the shoulders and pulled him to safety. More booby-traps began exploding like the staccato reports of a sniper's rifle. "Jumping Jahosefat, how many men do they have?"

Kermit pressed a hand around his thigh wound that was flowing freely with blood and grunted. "A lot less than they started off with."

He knew that each explosion meant another man of the attacking force had been neutralized. Still, they weren't armed for an all-out attack.

"Ansel, take over for me while I check his leg," Celeste said as she stared at Kermit with tears in her eyes.

Kermit waved her off. Instead, he used his handkerchief and some twine that was sitting on a nearby bookshelf. "I've got it. Look out the east window carefully and see if you see any sign of Peter and Tommy."

"Oh my God, Tommy!" Celeste rushed to the window Kermit had mentioned screaming Tommy's name.

Ansel pulled her back. "Get down, girl! Get down before you get yourself shot, too!"

Celeste struggled against his hold, but Ansel was looking at something new outside that window. He went to the front door and carefully surveyed the area around them. "The mists are coming in again. This may be our only chance to get away and get some help. Let's face it. There's just too many of them for us to fight off."

Kermit's fist slammed against the wooden floor.

Celeste looked at Ansel in shock. "No, no! Please, God, no! I'm not leaving without Tommy! I'm not!"

Ansel went back at her side. As he turned to her, he slugged hard on the jaw. She crumpled into his arms.

"It was the only way," Ansel said, adjusting Celeste's dead weight in his arms, guilt echoing in his voice.

Kermit nodded, struggling to get to his feet. He made it with difficulty, but without additional assistance. By the time he was standing, Ansel was ready to go.

"My truck is parked in the garage. We'll just sail through the door and haul ass down the mountain."

"Easy for you to say. We have no idea how many are waiting for us by the road."

"Well, it's what we are gonna do. I feel it in my gut. The Spirits are giving us the mists to get away, and bring back the cavalry."

"Then let's do it. Peter and Tommy can't last out there for long in this snow storm and with bad guys on their tails."

Ansel loaded Celeste into the truck. "Give 'em more credit than that. They know where the shelters are and where the canoes are. They'll be okay until we can get reinforcements up here."

Kermit gingerly moved up onto the trunk's front seat, moving beside the slumped Celeste. "I hope you're right. And you better be ready for all hell to break loose when this lady wakes up."

Ansel was in the driver's seat by then. The old conger adjusted his cowboy hat nervously. "Little Raven will take my scalp for this one. No doubt about it," he said with a sigh.

He looked once more to Kermit and a spark came into his eyes. "Okay, get your guns out because we are ready to roll!"

Ansel turned the engine on and stomped on the gas pedal. The truck literally flew through the aged garage door, barreling out beside the house, bouncing along as Kermit fired as fast as he could, but he couldn't see a thing through the damned mists.

"Ansel Crowfoot, I sure hope you know this road with your eyes closed," Kermit said grimly.

"Yep, and like the back of my hand too."

They made it down the twisting mountain road without too much trouble until they reached the turnoff.

"We've got company," Kermit said as they approached two Explorers blocking the road leading to Ansel's cabin.

Ansel surprised him by stomping on the gas pedal, instead of slowing down.

"Hold on," the old man shouted followed by a hoot.

"Ah, shit," Kermit muttered, wrapping his body around Celeste to protect her as the truck plowed through the two vehicles. Then, Ansel reached under his seat and pulled out a detonator.

"Fire in the hole," he yelled and Kermit pushed Celeste down further, not knowing exactly what Ansel was up to.

There was a huge explosion that rocked the truck even more than the collision with the two Explorers did. Kermit glanced back and all he could see was smoke, flying debris, and pieces of the two Explorers falling to the ground in a burning heap.

"Oh yeah, we're in it now," Kermit muttered as Ansel crowed over his destructive feat, pounding the steering wheel with excitement.

When it seemed safe, Kermit pulled Celeste back up on to the truck seat. She was still unconscious with a dark bruise forming on her jaw. Kermit cursed under his breath as he remembered most of his equipment was left at the cabin. All he had on him was his cell phone and a few guns. But there was the secondary system he'd set up with Ansel.

"Head for the satellite relay we buried the other day," Kermit said as he leaned Celeste over toward Ansel and pulled off his jacket. He removed his shirt, tearing the flannel material into a temporary bandage.

"There still might be more baddies between here and there," Ansel warned once he'd settled down a bit.

That was when Kermit let him see the fire in his own eyes as he finished tying the bandage. "Let them come. They've got me pissed off now and that's not a very wise thing to do."

Ansel hooted again with excited anticipation. "Wahoooo! Those fellows ain't got nothing over the team of Crowfoot and Griffin!"

Kermit let the moment pass without comment. He zipped up his jacket, and then checked each of the weapons he had with him, counting the number of extra clips. He glanced to Ansel. "What are you carrying on the truck?"

Ansel smiled broadly, "Enough to take on the whole mountainside."

Kermit sighed with relief and even chuckled at Ansel's enthusiasm. If they could only locate Peter and Tommy, then he could really relax. The only problem was he had no idea in hell where they were, or if they were even still alive. He sighed again, but this time it was from a heavy burden.

oOoOoOoOo

Peter heard the voices talking over him as he lay on his stomach on the living room floor of Ansel's cabin. No doubt that was where they tossed him after tying his hands with rope. Barely opening his eyes, Peter intended to count the number of men around him, but getting hit on the head again had caused a return of the symptoms from his concussion. So, for a while, all he tried to do was not get sick. It was still daylight, but he had no idea how long he'd been out...or how long Tommy had been left in the shelter.

'Pop, I could really use some help now. Not for me, but for Tommy. He's a kid who doesn't need to ever see another gun aimed at him again. Please, Pop, help me out here.'

Peter licked his lips and forced his eyes open ever so slightly. This time, he counted four men within his field of vision. There was the squawking of walkie-talkies carried by the four men.

"This is Team One in the cabin. We have one of the cops at the cabin. Status reports."

There was a long pause.

"This is Team One requesting status reports from all teams," the man said more urgently, and with anger.

Static filled the air. Someone upended the coffee table with a single kick. Another person said, "Shit!"

"Stervan, call up our backup teams," said the man in charge.

"Damn, you know it will take them hours to get here."

"I know that, but call them anyway. This situation is not acceptable. All that work for one lousy cop? Where's the woman? Where's the kid?"

The leader pulled Peter up by his shirt and his hair, and dragged him into the dining room, throwing him into a chair so hard Peter thought he was going to pass out again. "Look, cop, I want to know where the others are, and I want to know now."

"I'd like to know that, too. I go for a walk and all hell breaks loose-"

His words were cut off by a backhanded swipe of the man's gun handle, splitting his lip, and making his vision go gray.

The leader took Peter by the hair again. "I am only going to ask once more before I let my boys start working on you. Where are they?"

"I could lie, if that would keep the boys off me." Peter was rewarded by another painful slap to his face.

Peter spit out the blood welling in his mouth. "God's honest truth, I have no idea where they are." His gaze narrowed. "Maybe they're with your missing men."

This time, when Peter was hit, he went out like a light.

oOoOoOoOo

Kermit and Ansel limped together, both of them needing a cane, but all the canes were back at the cabin, left in the haste of clearing out quickly.

"I don't know what I was thinking...not to grab the canes. Lucky we don't have to walk far."

"You might have had a few other things on your mind at the time..." Kermit said and grunted as Ansel helped set him down beside the marker they'd left for the satellite relay. "It's just as well, Ansel, I really wasn't looking forward to being one with the 'kill 'em with your cane' brigade."

Ansel snorted as he limped back to the truck and grabbed a shovel from the bed of the truck, using it for support as he walked back.

"You don't look so hot, boy. How's that leg doing?"

"It's still here and Peter and Tommy aren't, so let's get digging, but gently, that equipment is borrowed and if the owners knew I had it, I'd never see daylight again."

"Borrowed, huh?" Ansel chuckled as he started digging around the perimeter of the marker. "You sure you don't have some Lakota blood in you?"

Luckily, the snowstorm hadn't completely buried the marker or they would have been forced to drive back into Clarion. Kermit was scooping away snow and dirt with his gloved hands when Ansel stopped and looked around. "You still have a gun with you?"

"Yes, as in more than one. Why?"

"I've got this itchy feeling trouble's around the corner."

Kermit turned and did a sweep of the area. "I don't see anything."

Ansel started to turn the earth with his shovel, but with hesitation. "You do the watch, and I'll do the digging."

Kermit nodded, keeping his head on a swivel when his gaze came across Ansel's truck. "Oh no, this is trouble of the worst kind," he whispered.

"What's that?" Ansel asked just as he made contact with the communications equipment.

"Celeste is out of the truck and going back up the road toward the cabin."

"Dammit to hell!" Ansel cursed.

He handed Kermit the shovel and took off for his truck. "You set up the kit and tell your buddies to get here pronto. I'll go deal with my niece. If I don't come back alive, it's been nice knowing you."

Kermit nodded. He wouldn't want to be in Ansel's boots for all the money in the world. He pulled the bagged satchel from its hole in the ground, and then cut away the heavy duty plastic with a knife.

Within minutes, he was talking to Paul Blaisdell. It wasn't a pleasant conversation.

oOoOoOoOo