The Fault With The Spy

by Linda Mackay

  “I’m only going to say this once.” Oh boy, I was in trouble now and Frank was taking no prisoners. “I’m the boss. You were taught the importance of leadership, right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “This is your only warning. If you cause any further trouble that could endanger any of us, and that includes your dad, I will take you as far as the middle of the Thorofare, and I will stay there to guard you while sending the rest in to find Joe. Got it?”

  I nodded my head yes.

  “Now, tell me why you think it’s impossible there’s another explosion in Mary Bay.”

  Chapter 6

  Get off my horse!”

  “Then give me back my coat.”

  “You weren’t wearing it, so what difference does it make?”

  “It’s mine. That’s the difference,” Amanda said. “You forgot yours, didn’t you?”

  “Did not,” Todd said. “Yours is just warmer.”

  “Fine. You wear my coat, and I ride your horse.”

  “No way. Take the coat, twat wad.” Todd tossed the coat on top of the packhorse making Alfalfa back away snorting at him. “Just remember when you need to borrow my wellie’s to wade a river they aren’t available for sharing.”

  “I would never wear your ugly wellie’s, they’re too gay.”

  “Hey fashion slut, me and the horse I rode in on are too gay for you. So get your sorry butt off her.” Todd helped Amanda off his horse with a shove to her butt as she swung her leg over the saddle. “And my wellie’s may be yellow, but at least they aren’t covered in pink, purple and turquoise flowers like your cowgirlie boots.”

  From under the brim of my cowboy hat I watched Mac sitting his horse like he’d been doing it for years. Listening to the snarky sisters’ battle, his facial expression never changed but his eyes quickly moved between them. I expected him to break it up, but what I saw was a man sizing up the situation.

  “Does Todd really think his horse is gay?”

  “What?”

  Mac flashed his gorgeous grin at me. “I said, does Todd really think his horse is gay?”

  “When the cowboys told him how a horse becomes a gelding, he immediately decided that made a horse gay.”

  “That is one weird little dude.”

  “Don’t let him hear you call him dude.”

  “Dude bothers him, but not references to his sexual orientation?”

  “He’s completely secure with his sexual identity.” I turned Arikira off the main trail following Frank. “Todd couldn’t ride when he came to the ranch so he picked out this beautiful mahogany bay, stepped into the corral and informed the cowboys that if you’re gay, ride a bay. Once he mastered that old worn out bay, he told the boys not to mess with him, because he could turn a gelding into a stud faster than they could turn a stud into a gelding.”

  “But he’s riding a mare!”

  “He’s an equal opportunity rider and he named her, Stud.”

  Mac put his hands up giving the sign of surrender. “Why does calling him dude bug him?”

  “When you call him dude, you insult his cowboyness.”

  “What in the world does cowboyness mean?”

  “It means he’s a real cowboy, not some city slicker dude who puts the gear on once a year and pretends he can handle a horse.”

  “You insinuating I’m a dude?”

  “Yesterday I would’ve.”

  “How about today?”

  “I’m considering revising my opinion.”

  “Stop.” Frank said motioning us to move off trail and into the trees. Everyone moved quickly behind a large rock outcrop and dismounted. “Listen.”

  Todd whispered. “What is that?”

  “Helicopter,” Mac said.

  “What’s the big deal?” I asked. “It’s probably doing reconnaissance of the quake damage.”

  Frank held his hand up for silence. “Don’t think so. That’s a military chopper.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I was in Nam. Learned to hate the sound of them.” Frank handed me the reins to his horse and walked over to Mac. “What do you think?”

  “With the President here, I’m sure there are several choppers in the area. It looks like a Raider and that would be a problem.”

  “What’s a Raider?” Todd asked.

  “It’s a Sikorsky S-97 helicopter. It has a perpendicular tail rotor, making it a faster pusher propeller. Meaning it has great maneuverability and needs a much smaller landing surface. Its speed reaches above 250 mph and it carries a sweet arsenal.”

  “I assume he isn’t referring to an arsenal of gummy bears,” Amanda said.

  “More like really big missiles, rockets and high-powered guns,” Mac smiled. “How do you like that Tata?”

  “Awesome!”

  “Totally! But what’s the problem?” Amanda asked.

  “There was only a couple experimental Sikorsky’s built before budget constraints put the kibosh on ordering them. I didn’t think they were even operational.”

  “Somebody’s operating that one,” Frank said.

  I smacked Mac on the arm. “Hey Special Forces, whose Tata’s are you talking about?” He ignored me and continued watching the helicopter.

  Frank mounted his horse and answered for him. “It’s his nickname for Todd and Amanda.”

  “You know how we’re always bickering back and forth,” Amanda said.

  “Todd and Amanda, Todd and Amanda…t.a.t.a.” Todd sang it like a love song.

  I looked at them both smiling at me. “You like that?”

  “Sure.”

  “Of, course.”

  Mac winked at me and took the reins of the packhorse as I turned Arikira northward. While I would have been offended, the troublesome twosome had happily become Tatas. He watched, sized them up, and responded accordingly. I needed to tread carefully. This dude was tricky.

  The helicopter sound moved away as we rode back into the open meadow. I loved the serenity of riding my horse through the wilderness, but today it felt oppressive. Even last night I listened for the wolves and coyotes to howl across the valley, but not a single sound broke the silence. The birds weren’t communicating openly either. Whatever noises the animals were making were in close quarters, and all were being exceptionally quiet as humans moved through their territory. The silence was overwhelming me so I decided to make conversation instead of concentrating on it. “That’s some serious presidential protection the government sent to the wilds of Wyoming.”

  “They don’t normally use experimental helicopters for presidential protection,” Mac said. “So, why is one here?”

  So much for casual conversation: I think I like the oppressive feeling better.

  The day wore on in silence as horses and riders pushed hard. Aftershocks regularly rattled us. We had to carefully walk the horses through two small landslides partially blocking the trail. And now I needed to find a log to hang my butt over and do my daily business. There’s nothing else like a backcountry trip to take the mystery out of daily life. We’d intersected with Pacific Creek and my butt, in more ways than one, wasn’t interested in a push on to Two Ocean Pass before setting up camp.

  As I contemplated asking for a bathroom break, my head started pounding and my heart raced. An animal was near and distressed by our presence, but I couldn’t see or smell it. Bears have a vile smell that usually assaults me before I see or hear them, so I ruled them out as the culprit.

  Arikira’s sides twitched underneath me. “Everyone stop. Something is close.”

  Frank and Mac pulled out their rifles. I saw from the corner of my eye Todd brandishing a stun gun. Amanda was further behind me. I hoped she heard me because it looked like she was brushing her hair.

  The horses bucked under us, like we’d all been released from our chutes at once at the Cheyenne Rodeo. The swish of a long tail from behind a tree on my right side flipped dust and leaves. Arikira reared up on her back legs as the mountain lion turned its head
toward me barring its teeth and hissing. I twirled on the horse as Arikira hit all four hooves down and stomped.

  The ruckus ended as fast as it begun. I pushed my fingers into my temples trying to ease the throbbing pain. The scream echoed around me and everything went black.

  “Marjorie!” Someone yelled.

  “Jorie, Jorie, Jorie.”

  “Is she dead?”

  “She’s not dead.”

  What was all the noise about? It was hurting my head. No, my head didn’t hurt anymore, that was my ankle throbbing.

  “Look she’s coming back,” Todd said

  I could see everyone looking down at me through slits in my eyes, all except Special Forces. Where was he? I moved my arm and found another hard arm that was definitely not mine.

  “What happened?” I asked. “No wait. I know. We startled the lion. She was hiding from the ones with the guns who killed her mother and brother. She was afraid of us too.”

  “Bring ‘em on, I’ll Taser their killing butts.”

  “I hate poachers,” Amanda said.

  “They’re not poachers.” Why did I say that? I don’t usually get that kind of detailed information from any animal. Mainly because animals wouldn’t know if it was a poacher, licensed hunter, mistaken identity, or a monkey with a beef to grind. Not that we have any monkeys in Wyoming, but I did see a giraffe once. Todd tried to tell me it was an elk standing on a rock, but I know what I saw.

  Mac pulled me in closer, and I snuggled into his lap. “I agree with Jorie.”

  “Time to find the mother and kitten.” Frank said stroking the mane of his horse.

  I looked up at Mac. “You agree with me?”

  “I believe every word you said. And if you feel up to getting off my lap we’ll investigate.”

  “If you insist.”

  I rolled off his lap and stood with no ill effects from the violence of the communication that came from the young mountain lion. I rubbed Arikira’s neck and saw the lingering fear in her eyes, “Thanks girl for keeping me on your back.”

  “That is until you fell off into the arms of the valiant hero,” Todd said.

  “I fell off?”

  “You screamed like death in a horror movie and blacked out. Mac caught you before any of us were even moving to get off our horses.”

  I limped as my weight went to my ankle. “Did I sprain my ankle in the fall.”

  “No. That would be from me stepping on your ankle when I ran to see if you were okay,” Todd said.

  “Over here!” Frank yelled.

  I continued to limp and shake off the pain. I felt another scream rise in my throat, but managed to contain it. On the ground lay two mountain lions, both shot. I turned and ran asking the universe for all the dark energy to be pushed away and surrounded myself with the white color of protection my mother had taught me. Again the intense feeling filled my head that something far more evil than poachers had killed the lions.

  “That’s the most awful thing I’ve ever seen.” Amanda said wiping tears with her sleeve.

  “If I didn’t hate vomiting, I’d do it right now.” Todd said hugging his horse.

  “We must have startled the poachers and they took off,” Amanda said.

  “We didn’t hear any shots. And those two have been dead for a while, at least long enough that if it were poachers they had plenty of time to take the lions and get out of Dodge,” Mac said.

  “They aren’t poachers!” Geez, why aren’t these people listening to me? I turned around and Mac was standing directly in front of me. “Why is there blood on your hands?”

  “Calm down Jorie, I extracted the bullets from both lions so we can turn them over to your beloved authorities.”

  I closed my eyes. “Well then bag them and wash your hands, before I throw up.”

  “Shouldn’t we have left the sight undisturbed and just reported it?” I asked.

  Frank returned also with bloody hands. “Not this time.”

  “Why not?” I started singing 99 bottles of beer trying to distract my queasy stomach from the blood.

  “Jorie since when did you get to be so cantankerous?” Frank asked.

  “Since Mr. Special Forces came along.”

  “I am not Special Forces! I’m retired DIA, Defense Intelligence Agency. I have higher security clearance than the President. Okay that last one is my opinion. If you insist on calling me anything besides Mac, you can call me, sir.”

  “Yes, sir,” Todd saluted.

  “Yes, sir,” Amanda straightened her back.

  Frank gave me his I’m going to put you over my knee look.

  “Do I get to ask anymore questions?” I asked as Mac glared at me. “Sir.”

  “One question, then we ride.”

  “What happened to those poor lions?”

  Mac held out his open hand. In it was two bullets. “They were shot by high caliber, military grade ammunition. The precision of both shots tells me the person behind the trigger was more than likely a sniper, and the entry came from above the lions.”

  “Like from a helicopter.” I said.

  “Out of place helicopter, earthquakes, explosions, President, large group of people gathered for a major event…I don’t like the math. From here on we assume something bad happened at the opening ceremony and proceed accordingly.”

  “Holy what next, Batman.” Todd sat on the ground deep breathing. Amanda stood frozen in place with her mouth wide open, Frank mounted Junior like he was headed out for a leisurely ride, and I still needed to poop.

  I exited the trees and ran square into Mac. “Were you spying on me?”

  “I was hiding behind the tree, letting you take care of business. I don’t know who’s in the area and from now on, no one wanders away from the rest without an escort.”

  “Ok.”

  “I have to admit, I’m glad you weren’t back there puking.”

  “Glad to hear I passed the upchuck test.”

  “Now if you could pass the follow orders test.”

  “Good luck with that…Mr. DIA. Damn, that doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

  “Just call me sir.”

  “I wouldn’t call you sir if you tied me up and tortured me.”

  “I can arrange that.”

  “Move out!” Frank yelled.

  Todd swung his hat in the air. “Wehoo.”

  “It’s yee-haw, dork wad,” Amanda said.

  “I’m saddled with two sets of bickering kids.” Frank said shaking his head.

  “Maybe we should all have titles,” Todd said. “General Frank and Colonel Mac.”

  “What are the rest of us?” Amanda asked.

  “Dumbasses for following his orders,” I said.

  “What happened to your love of authority?” Amanda asked as she adjusted her holster. Dear God she was now packing like this was a military operation.

  “I say it’s Captain Jorie and we’re Privates Tata.” I was temporarily saved by Todd’s interruption, but Amanda was right. I followed orders better than a robot. If the USGS or Park Service said jump in Lake Yellowstone, I would do it without asking questions. When herding cattle with Frank, I did everything he asked. However, earthquakes, volcanoes, hydrothermal explosions were my area and even my employees, the Tata twins, weren’t listening to me. Was I feeling threatened by an outsider who seemed to have more of a handle on this expedition than I did? Some overly sexy city dude, with the bluest eyes that seemed to be raining happiness in every direction had more understanding and control over our situation than me. So much so that Frank abdicated his lifetime of knowledge to him. Well, crap on a pancake.

  I didn’t compile all the facts before issuing my report. My PhD was in rocks and the burbling earth, which must look pretty useless to a spy. I stopped fact-finding after the ground stopped moving. Mac looked at the whole picture, and then decided what fit and what didn’t. The facts had to include the President was in the vicinity of the disaster and evacuating him would take priority over ev
ery other emergency. He was right; a normal horseback trip into the park wasn’t possible. The authorities I loved so much would stop us from proceeding anywhere but towards home. Not even my credentials would allow us to enter the disaster area. And we had no way of knowing the boundaries of the disaster.

  We had embarked on a journey into forbidden territory, and all I wanted to do was alert the authorities we were coming. They would stop us and Dad would have to fend for himself. The only way we could complete our mission was to break every rule I swore to the USGS and Park Service I would uphold.

  I reached behind me, unhooked the saddle pack, pulled out the plastic bottle of whiskey and took a deep swig. Captain Jorie. I could get use to that.

  Seventeen hours of daylight allowed us to push the horses to Two Ocean Pass. Frank and Mac searched for an out of sight place to set up camp, but the marshy ground yielded more foul language than hidden tent sights. The twenty feet of snow that fell over the winter had mostly melted leaving behind a quagmire. Their horses were left with us on the trail, while they carefully tested each step ahead with a stick before moving forward. One summer a lone backpacker walked to a hidden spot in the river to bathe, sunk in the muck and was found dead buried up to his waist in swamp mud weeks later. Not a fate I was interested in. I didn’t even like spring mud season at the ranch. Wading through mud to feed the horses and cattle was arduous work, and then you spent fifteen minutes every day cleaning the mud out of the bottom of your boots. I had no idea why some people paid huge amounts of money to wallow in mud and call it a beauty treatment. It never did a damn thing for me, except piss me off.

  Frank waved us over, and after setting up the tents and tying up the horses so they couldn’t wander into the marsh we huddled together around a small fire. We’d eaten a quick dinner earlier, that way we didn’t bring the smell of food to our sleeping camp and alert hungry animals to our presence. Mac only allowed a small fire so no plumes of smoke would be spotted since we were inside the park boundary.

  Amanda pushed up Todd’s pant leg and wrapped her hands around his calf. He screeched smacking her hands. “What are you doing?”