Blackout

CHAPTER 39

Dallas Nielson threw open the bedroom door where Graham Tash and Dan Wade were sleeping in two of the four bunks.

“Guys, is Steve in here?” she asked, her voice urgent.

Graham raised himself up on one elbow. “No,” he replied, rubbing his eyes and looking around the small room. Dan remained sound asleep.

“Damn!” she said, shutting the door behind her.

Graham got up and followed Dallas into the main room. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “He asked me earlier if I thought it was safe to go for a walk and I told him not only no, but hell no.” Dallas’s eyes were focused on the door. “I hate to be scared of my shadow, Doc, but what if those guys show up here?”

“If Steve’s outside, he shouldn’t be,” Graham said.

Dallas began pulling on a parka. “I’m planning on whupping his behind when I get my hands on him.” She finished zipping the coat and grabbed a flashlight before opening the door to a burst of cold night air. Graham held out a loaded .30-.30 from the stock of rifles. “You need this?”

She turned and smiled. “I’m planning on finding the little runt, Doc, not bagging him.”

“I’ll wait right here,” he said.

Dallas shut the door behind her and stepped off the porch carefully, listening to the squeak of the borrowed oversized mukluks as she moved through the snow. She thought of yelling for the boy, but changed her mind. Best to look quietly.

She glanced up at the moon, its stark, glowing beauty stunning as it rose radiant and almost full over the eastern ridge of the mountains, bathing the snowy landscape in a soft light that left only the deepest shadows unseen. A small, freshening breeze kicked up again, then died, rustling the branches overhead against a chorus of soft moans as a million pine needles combed the air.

If I wasn’t so spooked, I could really enjoy this beauty, Dallas thought. She looked around carefully in all directions, letting her eyes adjust. There were footprints, undoubtedly Steve’s, leading away from the porch. They led into a stand of timber, and Dallas moved in the same direction, staying to one side.

This is going to be easier than I thought, she assured herself. A cold chill rippled up her back as a dark shadow loomed ahead, but it was only a tree.

She stopped and stood still for nearly a minute, feeling the cold creep into her body as she listened in silence. She could hear water running somewhere to the west, and the call of a distant bird, but no footfalls or voices. Dallas continued to follow the footprints, wondering whether the deep cold of the mountain valley or her rising apprehension was causing the trembling in her knees.

Another dark shadow appeared to the right and seemed to move. Dallas felt adrenaline squirt into her bloodstream as she momentarily prepared to run.

Oh, Lord! Dallas tried to catch her breath, her hand on her chest. Another tree.

She looked down at the footprints once more, wondering why she was seeing double. Something wasn’t right about the marks that had been left in the snow. A second set of footprints! After Steve had walked by, someone else had emerged from the forest and followed him.

There IS someone else out here! Oh my Lord, what do I do now? Dallas stood stock-still, her heart pounding. The .30-.30 she’d shunned was back in the cabin, but what if Steve were in trouble, or fighting for his life?

She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the night sounds, straining to discern anything unusual, such as a struggle in progress.

Steve could be dead. No, that isn’t right. They wouldn’t kill him. They’d drag him off and question him first. In the distance now, faintly, she begin to hear muffled thumping sounds, which grew progressively louder.

Footfalls!

Her eyes strained to see ahead. A shape materialized in the trees in front of her, a figure charging toward her, head down, legs moving like pistons.

“STEVE?” Dallas barked, and saw a head bob up as the frightened face of the fourteen-year-old became starkly visible.

“RUN!” Steve yelled, pointing to the cabin as he passed her. “RUN!”

Dallas turned instantly and broke for the cabin, feeling clumsy in the mukluks, as she turned her head to see what or who was behind them.

“OPEN THE DOOR!” Steve yelled. “BEAR BEHIND!”

“WHAT?” Dallas bellowed back. “YOU HAVE A BARE WHAT?”

“BEAR! BEHIND… US… a BEAR!”

Dallas looked toward the cabin, seeing a crack of light. Graham was holding the door slightly ajar, waiting for her. “GRAHAM! OPEN IT!” Dallas bellowed.

They were less than twenty feet away when the cabin door swung open, the pool of light from within a welcoming beacon. Dallas could hear Steve’s breath coming in ragged gasps. He took the two steps to the porch in one jump and flashed through the door, with Dallas right behind. Steve pivoted and slammed the heavy door in place, turning the dead bolt and motioning Graham and Dallas back to the center of the cabin.

“A bear…” he began, panting hard.

A loud, heavy thud reverberated through the door. There was a deep, throaty groan and snuffling outside, and the sound of a heavy body moving along the wooden porch, creaking the timbers.

“Sweet Jesus!” Dallas said, moving to the front window.

“What are you doing, Dallas?” Graham asked.

She didn’t answer, but peeked out carefully before turning to the other two. “I heard him, but I don’t…”

Through the sound of shattering glass a large black paw thrust through the breaking window, inches from Dallas’s face. The claws raked in the opposite direction as she threw herself forward and scrambled to the others in the center of the room.

Graham cocked the .30-.30 and raised the gun to his shoulder.

The bear cried out in frustration as he swung a paw at the breaking window frame, shattering the remaining glass and catching the curtains. But when he could see inside, he spotted the humans. The bear stopped, his small eyes scanning the occupants as they stood in the middle of the floor and watched him, one holding the bead of the .30-.30 squarely on his forehead. For several very long seconds the bear weighed his conflicting desires in a basic, instinctive tug-of-war with himself. At last the learned caution about humans in groups won out, and the bear shook his head and backed away, roaming the porch for a few minutes before ambling off into the night, leaving the humans behind to deal with their own pounding hearts.

“I think… he’s gone,” Steve said at last, taking a deep breath.

“For now,” Dallas replied, her whole body shaking. “Why isn’t he hibernating? Would someone please talk some sense into that dumb bear?”

“Some of them go down late,” Dan said. “How big was he?”

“Big enough. A black bear. Probably four hundred pounds,” Graham replied. “We need to figure out how to board up that window in case he decides to return.”

Dallas took Steve by the shoulders and turned him to her. “What happened, Steve? Why’d you go outside?”

“I wanted to!” he snapped, squirming out of her grip.

“Where’d you find him? And no, you can’t keep him just because he followed you home.” Dallas motioned toward the front porch.

“Down by the river. He was down there just sitting in the dark by the edge and I walked right into him and scared him. He didn’t like it at all.”

“Steve, did you see anyone else out there?” Dallas asked.

“No.” He shook his head.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Steve said, looking scared. “Why?”

Dallas looked at Graham before replying, her face grim. “Because I found a second set of fresh footprints out there that followed yours from the forest.”

She saw Steve’s eyes get big and the blood drain from his face.

“Really? Someone was following me? They were human footprints?”

She nodded.

“Where, Dallas?” Dan asked.

“Less than a hundred yards from the cabin,” she replied.

“Then,” Dan began, motioning in the general direction of the door, “someone’s already here and watching us.”

Another thud reverberated through the cabin, this time from the opposite side.

“Oh, wonderful,” Dan said. “There are two predictable behaviors for a bear. One, he sees people and he leaves. Two, the promise of food outweighs his natural fear of humans. Did you have any food with you outside, Steve?”

Steve nodded. “I took a roll with some meat in it. See? It’s still here in my pocket, wrapped in a napkin.”

Dan’s mouth tightened. “So now he knows where there’s food. Eating is a bear’s primary focus in life.”

“Which means?” Graham asked, his eyes on the back windows. The scraping and bumping continued, punctuated by the same cries of irritation.

“Which means we’ve got a bear problem,” Dan replied.

“There are shutters on that broken window,” Graham said. “I guess we’d better get them closed.” He handed the gun to Dallas and moved to the window, checking both sides before leaning through the destroyed frame and pulling the shutters.

“Without seeing them,” Dan said, “I can’t tell, but even if those shutters are well made, they’re only going to slow him down. When he tries to come through that window — and he will — we’ll have to be ready to shoot. You’ll get one chance.”

“I know it.”

“And if you’ve never heard the old adage about there being nothing as dangerous as a wounded bear, let me tell you, it’s the truth.”

The shopping foray had taken just over two hours, and Robert made it back to the motel before nine to find Kat in a hopeful but agitated state.

“Robert, I located Dr. Maverick! He lives in Vegas, but he isn’t home, and a neighbor I got on the phone said he’d shot out of there two days ago.”

“Any idea where he was going?”

She nodded. “An idea, yes. The neighbor gave me some leads. He’s got a place in Sun Valley, Idaho, and I’m betting he’s headed there.”

“Kat, have you considered…”

She raised her hand to stop him. “I know. If we can find out where he is, so can Nuremberg’s goons. But we have no other hard target. I have the address and the phone number, but if he’s there, he’s holed up and not answering.”

“So what do we do?”

Kat pursed her lips. “We slip on a commuter flight in the morning to Sun Valley to look for him.”

She took one of the bags Robert was holding and rummaged around for the hair-coloring product, found it, and held it up. “Good. Exactly what I need.” She moved quickly into her bathroom and waved as she closed the door behind her and turned on the water.

Robert followed and knocked lightly on the door. “You mind if I talk to you while you’re working?”

Kat opened it a few inches and peered out. “Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps the idea that we’ve got a few unresolved issues, like why the hell we’re gambling that a frightened man may go to his mountain cabin instead of off the ends of the earth?”

“Call it a hunch, Robert.”

“Just a hunch? Or intuition?”

“The same professional intuition you said you trusted.”

“Just asking.”

Kat peeked out through the crack in the bathroom door. “When a lady goes through this little conversion process, she doesn’t like to be visible. So go to your room, close the door, and make that call to Tahiti. We’re running out of time.”

A short line of cars was waiting at the curb as a dozen men and women in dark suits spilled out of the lobby of Galvin Flying Service. The special agent-in-charge introduced his team to the arriving force amid a flurry of watch-checking, and waved to the FAA pilots who had flown them in by government jet from D.C. Carry-on bags were loaded and cellular phone numbers exchanged as the FBI team geared up for a rapid trip into the Seattle field office and an intensive all-night effort to find their prodigal sister agent.

As the informal motorcade roared away from the curb, a man with forgettable features sitting in a rented van turned away and lifted a cellular phone to his mouth. “We’ve got company,” he said, reporting the small army of FBI agents.

“Confirms the fact that she’s here, doesn’t it?” the voice on the other end said. “Get back over to the main airport while we keep the search going from here.”

“You having any luck?” the man asked.

“With the help of a little cash, we’re narrowing it down.”