Chapter 11 – Seek and ye shall find

After the rain of the previous night the weather had cleared up. The clouds scudded across the sky allowing brief periods of sun to warm them. The breeze was cool as they made their way back up the far side of the falls. They had set off early and Mac had been surprised to find himself being led downstream. They had followed the course of the river for some time until they were able to find a place to cross.

They had walked for a good two hours before Mason had called a halt. He'd ordered them to rest while he pulled a small crossbow from his pack. He'd taken one of the nylon cords from Mac's rucksack and tying it to the bolt, he had fired the bolt into the tree at the far side before securing the other end of the rope to a nearby tree. Then he'd wrapped an arm around Stacy's neck, pushed his Glock into her side and had stared pointedly at Mac who he had clearly expected to try the crossing first.

Mac had negotiated the river with more ease than he had expected. The ice-cold water from the spring melts had torn at his shoes and pants but it was a relief to his aching feet and muscles. The worst part of the crossing had been when his foot had slipped on one of the rocks and he had been forced to hold onto the guide rope pulled taut between the two trees. It had pulled at his side and the the pain from the injury had made him feel sick. His stomach had churned and he felt himself become light-headed but somehow he had managed to regain his footing and had arrived breathless on the other side. He had almost collapsed but had forced himself upright not wanting to show any sign of weakness in front of the others. Goatee had gone next. Then Mason with Stacy and finally Mac had watched Jowls struggle to get his huge bulk across the fast flowing river. He had been surprised that the guide-rope didn't snap. The whole episode had one advantage in that the others had taken more time to get across giving him the opportunity to rest and conserve his strength. After a break they had continued back up the other side of the river.

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It was nearing midday and the sun had finally come out with a vengeance forcing Mac to discard his jacket. He had taken his rucksack again and he could feel its weight biting into his shoulders. The shoulder strap was rubbing uncomfortably against his wound. Casey had slipped him two more painkillers at their previous stop but they were already beginning to wear off. They had struggled up the other side of the falls passing the place where they had camped. They'd been forced away from the river for some time until they came to a clearing with a number of fallen trees leaning against one another at odd angles. Stacy stopped.

"Stacy?" Mac saw the colour drain from her already pale face. "Are you all right?" But Stacy didn't respond. She was staring at the ground a little way ahead of them. A wheel lay on side. A wheel that was clearly part of the landing gear of a small plane. Mac looked at the trees. He could see young plants straining upward towards the light where several bigger trees had fallen. Looking around carefully, he suspected that this was where the plane had clipped the tops of the trees before coming down.

"Watch them!" Mason ordered and dashed off climbing over a large trunk before disappearing into the undergrowth. Jowls glared at them as though daring Mac to make another move. Mac pulled Stacy closer and his eyes met those of Casey. Casey stroked his goatee thoughtfully looking hard at Mac and then at Jowls. He licked his lips nervously. "It's here!" came the distant voice of Mason, a note of triumph in his voice.

"All right. Move it!" Jowls waved the Desert Eagle at Mac. Slowly they made their way through the foliage. They had to climb over one large trunk and before long they found themselves on the edge of a plateau looking down into the ravine where the river had cut itself a path. They were almost two miles above the falls.

Mason stood there on the edge, his rifle cradled in his arms. "So Hank, this is where you come in." He tipped his head towards the edge of the cliff. Telling Stacy not to move Mac slipped off his pack and walked to the edge. He peered down. The river was a white foaming torrent as it was forced through the narrow gorge. Bushes and small trees had grown up in the piles of rocks and below him, partially hidden by a rock ledge, was the stained wing of a small plane. Leaning out over the edge Mac could see that the plane had split in two. The cockpit and main body were further upstream than the tail end of the fuselage. He shook his head in amazement as he wondered how the hell Stacy had survived such a crash. He remembered she said she had been sleeping in the back of the plane. The open end of the fuselage pointed downstream. She could have crawled out, slid down the wing and made her way along the rocks till she reached the falls. The water level would have been a lot lower after the summer and exceptionally dry autumn they'd had so she could have made it up onto the bank. Her father however hadn't been so lucky. The nose of the plane had crumpled under the shock of the impact and was buried in a deep crevice between two the rocks at the water's edge. The swollen river would have swept it away if what was left of the landing gear hadn't tangled in the bushes and the wing tip been wedged against the rock ledge that jutted out by several feet some distance below him.

Mac straightened up and took a step away from the edge. Jowls picked up his rucksack and threw it at his feet. Mason smiled at him. "Get your gear on. Get down to that plane and get me what's mine or the girl gets it." Mac looked over to Stacy who was stood with a look of abject fear on her face. Casey stepped up behind her and wrapped an arm around her pulling her tight against him. For a moment Mac and Casey looked at one another then Mac turned to Mason.

"What exactly is it I'm looking for?"

Mason grinned. "Fifteen million dollars in uncut diamonds."

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While Mac and Stacy had struggled up to the crash site, Don and Jo had already done an aerial survey of the one of the areas marked on the map. If they had been there for any other reason they would have admired the lush greenery and majestic azure lakes that reflected the snowy-capped peaks scattered throughout the park but their minds were on one thing and one thing only. Finding Mac and Stacy. Having found nothing they decided to move onto checking out the cabins.

Carl had put the helicopter down just over a mile from the cabin that Lina had thought would be the most likely candidate for the gang's hideout. Carl had put in a call to the parks authority and they had confirmed that the cabin was owned by a couple from Washington who were currently abroad and only used the cabin in the high season. Leaving Carl with the chopper Lina led them through the densely wooded terrain. It took them almost an hour to hike to the cabin. As they approached Don spotted a silver SUV hidden among the trees. Gesturing to Jo and Lina to remain where they were he approached it quietly, his gun drawn. He touched the hood. It was cold. It hadn't been used in some time. He peered in the back. A crumpled bag with the word McAllisters was thrown on the floor. He turned and flashed Jo a triumphant smile. They were in the right place.

Jo and Lina made their way silently towards him. "This is definitely it. Silver SUV and a McAllisters bag on the foot-well just like Lindsay said." Don kept his voice low as Jo peered into the back of the car.

"Okay where's the cabin?"

Lina raised a hand. "Down that path between the those two trees. It's by the water's edge." She made to move towards it when Jo gripped her arm.

"Wait! Listen!" The sound of an engine was getting closer. "Quick. Take cover. Over there." Jo pointed to a thick mound of bushes by the tree. Quickly they scrambled behind them ducking onto all fours. The sound of the engine got louder. After a couple of minutes a motorbike appeared. The rider was pushing it as fast as it would go. Don recognized it as a rally-cross suitable for rough terrain. The rider was as rough. No sooner had he stopped than he let the bike drop to the ground. He headed straight for the gap in the trees pulling off his helmet as he did so. Don caught a glimpse of denim and a head of greasy hair pulled back in a ponytail.

"Edmonds?" he mouthed to Jo. "Come on but stay behind me." Cautiously he got up and made his way towards the trees. He peered down the track. He negotiated the roughly hewn steps one at a time listening as he went. The only sounds was the light rustle of leaves and the occasional chirruping of a bird. Don gripped his gun a little tighter as the deep blue lake came into view. As the trees thinned he spied the cabin. The door was wide open. Don signalled for Jo and Lina to wait. Jo stepped in front of Lina drawing her gun nodding to Don that she had his back. Don inched forward and as he did so a twig snapped under his foot. To him it sounded overly loud in the silence of the forest but no one appeared. There was no movement from the cabin. He circled the cabin peering through the windows. His ears caught the sound of a man's voice coming from inside. He was shouting. Don listened carefully.

" can you hear me? … listen … not who he says he is ..."

Don ran for the door. The man he had seen earlier was stood in the centre of the cabin, a large black cell phone with a short stubby antenna was pressed to his ear. A satellite phone.

"... I saw his wallet. His name is Taylor. Mac Taylor. He's a cop!"

A/N : Still enjoying it? More tomorrow.