The Medusa Prophecy

by Cindy Dees

  Good news, the barrel wasn’t heavy any more. Bad news, she was practically buried in a pile of white powder. She leaped up, shaking it off and wiping it away from her eyes.

  Katrina’s weapon fired several times in quick succession.

  “Can you run?” Vanessa bit out.

  Karen drew an experimental deep breath. “I’m good,” she panted.

  “Medusas retreat. Cobra, give us thirty seconds, and then pull back. Two rotation fighting retreat. Python and Mamba, you’ve got Anders. Sidewinder and I will cover you. Cobra and Adder are the other rotation.”

  Karen nodded. Thank God she’d landed in deep snow and not on a hard surface. That barrel could have crushed her ribcage otherwise. She stumbled to her right toward Aleesha, who had hastily wrapped an inflatable neck brace around Larson’s neck and pulled the auto-inflate tab. Too bad there wasn’t time to go looking for his shotgun and its real ammo. But at least neither he nor she was a pancake.

  “Adder, get eyeballs on the back windows,” Vanessa ordered.

  “I could use some help before I pull back,” Kat transmitted.

  Misty grabbed her MP-5 and its useless rubber bullets off the ground. “I’m on it.”

  Karen rushed over to where Aleesha was performing a quick check on Larson. The doctor reported tersely, “He’s been knocked out. No broken bones, no apparent crushing. How’s your breathing?”

  “Normal. My ribs are intact. I inhaled a little of the white stuff, though.”

  “Any symptoms?” the doctor bit out as she finished running her hands down Larson’s legs.

  “Not yet.”

  Aleesha said tersely, in full trauma-surgeon mode, “We’ll need to send some of that powder out for analysis. Lemme know if you feel out of the ordinary in any way.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  Aleesha grinned up at her briefly. “Your boy’s ready to move. You want the head or feet?”

  “Help me lift him into a fireman’s carry. It’ll be faster if I haul him out. You take my pack and rifle.”

  Aleesha nodded. Unlike Larson, she knew not to argue in a situation like this. Each of the Medusas knew their own capabilities. If one of them said she could do something, the others knew she wasn’t exaggerating.

  Aleesha helped her lift his limp form and drape his arms over Karen’s shoulders from behind.

  Karen shifted his weight, settling it more firmly against her back, and then turned. She took off, jogging clumsily through the snow. Oh, God, this sucked. He would have to be a big, muscular guy. He weighed around 220 pounds if she had to guess. The slope was uneven, and the snow varied from hard-packed old snow that held her weight to light powder, stirred up by the avalanche. There was no predicting from step to step whether the snow would hold their combined weight on the surface or whether they’d sink hip-deep. She floundered forward doggedly.

  Aleesha moved ahead of her to forge a bit of a trail and that helped some. But it was still grueling to haul a man Larson’s size up the ragged slope. Karen hurt just about everywhere a person could hurt. Her thighs, already exhausted by holding off that pile of barrels, were further tasked. They cramped, but she had no time to stop and stretch them out. Her entire chest cavity hurt from where the barrel had crashed into her, and her lungs were going to explode any second. She couldn’t even spare the energy to swallow. Instead, she spat whenever her mouth filled with saliva. Her breathing turned into a wheezing series of gasps, and each exhalation was a grunt of pain.

  “Forward rotation, halt,” Vanessa ordered.

  Karen staggered to a stop, panting like a broken-down racehorse. It was almost more painful to rest than it was just to keep pushing through the agony. Katrina and Misty raced up.

  “Ready to go, Python?” Misty asked.

  Karen nodded at the two women who would now take up escort duty. How long it took them to climb that long slope, Karen didn’t know. But it was the toughest few minutes of her life. The others offered to spell her, but they all knew she had more upper-body strength than anybody else on the team. And besides, they couldn’t afford the time to stop and transfer him to someone else. The tangos could come out any second. And with their ammunition, they could easily kill the Medusas before they reached the top of the ridge.

  About three-quarters of the way up the hill they reached the starting point of the avalanche, and the snow smoothed out. The team paused long enough in the lee of a huge block of snow mostly out of sight of the cabin to put on their snowshoes.

  Aleesha and Isabella pulled in close beside her and supported her under her arms for the last part of the climb. It was a technique they’d learned in their initial training when Jack routinely ran them to the point of collapse. They’d take turns propping each other up so everyone made it through the run.

  At last, they topped the ridge. Karen laid Larson down in the snow and collapsed beside him, sucking in great lungfuls of fiery cold air.

  Aleesha knelt beside him, checking his vitals again. “Blood pressure and pulse are strong. He should come around before too long, I’d think.”

  “Good,” Karen panted. “He can walk under his own power then.”

  Isabella called out from where she lay at the ridgeline, observing the cabin. “Cobra and Sidewinder are in their final retreat. Looks like our tangos decided to hole up and not come play anymore.”

  “Thank God,” Karen replied. “If they had any idea how outgunned we were, they’d have killed us all.”

  Isabella grinned back over her shoulder. “That’s why we didn’t stand up and announce it to them.”

  Karen would’ve stuck out her tongue at her teammate if it weren’t so damned cold out here. She didn’t relish carrying Larson any further. But as soon as the others joined them, they’d all need to bug out. She glanced over at their gear.

  Then she asked Aleesha and Isabella, “Did either of you happen to throw in a spare tent pole when you packed your gear today?” During their first couple of days of field training, the Norwegians had shown them a dozen handy things a person could do with a length of rigid aluminum tubing.

  “As a matter of fact, I did,” Aleesha answered.

  Isabella nodded as well.

  “So did I. If one of the others threw in a pole, that makes four, and we ought to be able to rig up a skid to drag the golden boy on. I gotta say, I have no desire to carry him any farther than I have to. He’s big, darn him.”

  Isabella started rummaging in the packs and pulled out tent poles and rope. “Ah ha! Viper has a spare pole, too. One skid coming up.”

  While Karen rested and Aleesha took Larson’s vitals again, Isabella lashed the tent poles into a travois—a crude, roughly triangular drag. Now all they had to do was lift Anders onto the contraption, and they’d be good to go.

  Too soon for Karen’s aching body, the other Medusas joined them. “Let’s get out of here,” Vanessa said briskly.

  The women loaded Larson, still out like a light, onto the drag, and Vanessa and Misty took the first shift pulling him. Karen, Isabella and Aleesha picked up Vanessa’s, Misty’s and Anders’ field packs in addition to their own, and Kat went ahead to scout out the easiest route. They rested every five minutes and rotated positions to keep everyone fresh. Or more accurately, to democratically spread the pain around. They had a long night of hiking ahead of them.

  About an hour into their trek, Aleesha was on point and stopped the team cold by announcing, “Incoming. Two targets at twelve o’clock.”

  Now what?

  Chapter 6

  Oslo, Norway, March 4, 2:00 a.m.

  Jens woke up, disoriented, in the dark. What had yanked him to consciousness so abruptly? Then he heard it again. Someone was pounding at the front door. Jesus, what time was it? He rolled over and squinted at the digital alarm clock: 2:07. He groaned as he rolled out of bed, stumbled to the closet, and pulled on jeans and a T-shirt. He picked up his shoulder holster and unsnapped the leather strap holding down his service revolver. Rubbing sleep out of his eyes
, he padded barefoot into the hall.

  “Stop banging, already!” he bellowed. “I’m coming.”

  Astrid nearly ran him over as she came barreling out of her room. “Daddy, if it’s Willie, don’t hurt him. I told him you might be asking him some questions—”

  “Jesus, Astrid! What were you thinking? Do you want me to have to arrest both of you for impeding a police investigation?”

  “Daddy!” she wailed. “You can’t arrest Willie!”

  Like hell he couldn’t! He drew breath to argue the point, but whoever was at the door pounded again. It was two o’clock and he was dead tired, dammit. He’d been putting in ungodly hours with all the murders in Oslo, and now this.

  She hurried down the hall ahead of him toward the front door.

  “Astrid!” he ordered sharply. “Don’t open that!”

  He stepped around her up to the peep hole. A person couldn’t be too careful with all the nutcases on the streets right now. Aww, hell. He threw the dead bolt and swung the front door open in disgust. “What do you want, Ivo? It’s the middle of the flipping night.”

  “May I come in?”

  Jens stepped back. The young detective followed him in and stopped cold when he spied Astrid. “Is this your daughter?”

  Jens rolled his eyes. Right now, she was mostly a whiny pain in the butt. “What’s up?”

  “The initial toxicology reports are in.”

  That woke him up. Like a bucket of cold water in the face.

  Wow. That was fast. It could take two to three weeks to get tox reports back. And this set had been run in two to three days. His eyes narrowed. The folks at the lab were going to regret demonstrating to him how fast they really could run their tests.

  Jens stared expectantly at Ivo. “And?”

  “You were right. There’s a match in all three of the initial murders. I swung by the office on the way over here and picked up the files.”

  “Bring them into the kitchen. I need coffee if I’m to function at this hour. And what’s up with that godawful shirt?” Ivo was wearing a psychedelic monstrosity that for all the world looked like a polyester leisure shirt. Add a puka shell necklace and the horror would be complete. Jens turned to head for the kitchen.

  Ivo answered, “I was at a club, Val Hall, when I got the call. You should go sometime.”

  Jens’s head whipped around. Astrid gushed, “Isn’t that for members only? I hear it’s gorgeous and the music is incredible. What’s the dance floor like? Is it as wild as they say?”

  Ivo grinned. “Next time I go I’d be happy to take you.”

  “You’re a member?” she squeaked.

  Jens rolled his eyes. He’d hated disco the first time it came around, before either of these two were born. Still hated it.

  Astrid followed them into the kitchen. Jens said, not unkindly, “Skedaddle, kiddo. There are grisly crime-scene photos in these files, and they’re police business anyway.”

  She made a face at him. “I’ve probably seen worse on television.”

  “Go!” He added darkly, “We’ll talk later.”

  Astrid threw a sulky look at him and then turned her gaze on Ivo. He didn’t want to think about what kind of look that was she threw at his partner.

  Jens sat down heavily at the kitchen table. “What’s the match?”

  Ivo spread three files out on the table. “Each of the perpetrators tested positive for two drugs. Cocaine and pseudoephedrine.”

  A powerful combination. People who mixed those two substances could be jacked up for a couple days at a stretch. He’d seen prisoners high on that cocktail stand in a cell and spin for three days straight, before passing out from dehydration and low blood sugar. People were known to die when their aortas, or even their hearts, ruptured from the strain of the intense stimulation.

  So. All three perpetrators were high on powerful stimulants. Thing was, he’d never heard of that mix of drugs making people go psychotic. He asked his extremely book-wise partner, “Have you ever heard of coke and Sudafed causing violent psychotic episodes?”

  Ivo shook his head. “It wires folks tight as hell and can make them a little nuts, but not this violent.” He waved his hand over the files of grisly photos. “Each of these killers was criminally insane at the time of the murders. And there’s one more thing, sir.”

  “And that is?”

  “The initial tests found something else in all three perpetrators.”

  “Don’t make me beg. What was it?”

  “The forensics folks have never seen it before. They’re going to run more detailed spectroscopic analysis. It’s a complex molecule, resides in fat cells, and bears a passing resemblance to LSD. But beyond that, they don’t know much. Oh, and none of the perps had much of it in their systems. It was just a trace amount. Our chemists think it might be a marker molecule they can use to track down a particular batch of drugs.”

  Jens nodded. “That’s good news. How long until they know exactly what the chemical is?”

  “Couple of days if they rush it.”

  “They’ve rushed everything else. They’ll rush this. But Ivo. Don’t wake me up at 2:00 a.m. again to tell me what it is. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Northern Norway, March 4, 4:00 a.m.

  Thankfully, Aleesha’s incoming targets turned out to be their Sami guides. They’d hung around the area just in case, God bless them. They ended up helping to haul Larson and the extra packs. Even better, they were thrilled to death to do it.

  It was around five o’clock when the combination of frigid temperatures and sweat finally got the better of Karen. “Viper,” she said quietly, “If I don’t get my clothes off and dry out soon, I’m going to be in serious trouble.”

  Vanessa nodded and turned to the other Medusas. “Any idea how we ask our guides if there’s somewhere nearby we could go to warm up and dry off a bit?” With Larson out cold, they’d lost their translator. And neither of their guides spoke a language a Medusa did.

  Isabella spoke up. “Let me give it a try.”

  Karen was impressed as Isabella said something in what sounded like passable Sami. Dang, that woman was a natural at languages! The Sami men said something back.

  “I think they said there’s a shelter close by and something about building a fire.”

  “Perfect,” Vanessa answered.

  Isabella said something back to the Sami men, and they veered left toward a steep cliff face. The men weren’t kidding when they said shelter was close; it took them maybe ten minutes to reach an uneven crevasse in the stone wall. The men led the way inside the cave. The opening was too narrow to horse the skid and Larson through, so Karen half-carried, half-dragged him inside. He was going to owe her big when this was over. She’d almost gotten him over to the blackened circle on the cave floor that indicated where a fire would soon be when the golden boy himself mumbled something against her neck. Intense awareness of his mouth on her skin shot through her. He pulled weakly against her.

  “Stop that, Anders,” she groused. “It’s hard enough dragging your heavy butt around as it is.” Not to mention the butterflies in her stomach were distracting.

  He mumbled something unintelligible and, thank goodness, subsided.

  She deposited him gently on the floor. The Samis already had a small fire going from a supply of reindeer chips stacked in one corner. Good idea, having a little spot like this out in the middle of the hunting grounds for just such an emergency.

  “Aleesha,” Karen said worriedly, “he’s not awake yet.”

  The team doctor crouched beside Anders. “Not good. I’m concerned that swelling’s developing around his brain.” She rummaged around in her med kit. “I’m gonna hit him with an anti-inflammatory.”

  Karen watched Aleesha give Larson a hefty injection. “How long should that take to work?”

  “If it’s going to help him, he should come around within an hour or two.”

  “And if it doesn’t help?” Karen asked quie
tly.

  “Then your boy’s in serious trouble. He’ll need a first-rate trauma center ASAP.”

  Karen snorted. “And where’s the nearest one of those?”

  Aleesha gave her a worried look. “Not nearly close enough.”

  Karen looked down at Larson. “He’s strong. He’ll be okay.”

  Aleesha put a commiserating hand on her shoulder. “From your lips to God’s ear,” she murmured.

  Isabella had a quiet word with the Sami men, and both of them threw Karen an alarmed look and bolted from the cave.

  Karen turned on her teammate, demanding, “What did you just tell those guys?”

  Isabella grinned. “I think I told them you were going to take your clothes off and if they didn’t want to be enslaved forever by the sight of you, they might want to leave.”

  Karen rolled her eyes while the other Medusas laughed. She had to put an end to this whole goddess thing as soon as they got back to camp. Nonetheless, she did strip off her clothes. Aleesha joined her, as did Isabella. All three of them had worked up sweats at some point in the evening’s fun.

  While they were huddling around the fire, drying out, Karen asked Isabella, “How is it you speak so much Sami in one day?”

  She shrugged. “It’s in the same language family as Finnish. And while I don’t actually speak much Finnish, I did a term paper on it in a linguistics class in college. Once you have the hang of the grammar structure, it’s pretty easy to plug in vocabulary. And, once you’ve got several hundred words, you’d be surprised how much you can express if you phrase things creatively.”

  Karen shook her head in awe. “Thank goodness you’re on this team.” Of course, that was part of what made the Medusas effective. They pooled their skills and functioned as a single entity.

  In a matter of fifteen or twenty minutes, all three women were dry and dressed again. Karen knelt beside Larson and felt the back of his neck. It was warm. It wasn’t a foolproof method of determining body temperature, but it was good for a rough estimate. If his neck was warm, then his core temperature wasn’t dangerously low. She gazed down at his unconscious face. Like this, he wasn’t nearly as intimidating. He actually looked like a nice guy.