by Linda Grimes
guy in charge, along with Per—isn’t a neo-Viking. He’s with SÄPO. He’s undercover, like Trey.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, I know. Nils is a pal of mine.”
I stared at her. “You know him?”
“Of course. He helped me a lot with my Swedish.”
“Does Mark know? Does Bily?” Did every-fucking-body but me know?
“I don’t know about Bily, but Mark knows—why wouldn’t he? It’s why he didn’t cal in the whole Agency to get you out after
you were snatched—he knew Nils wouldn’t let anything too horrible happen to you.”
I remembered being jabbed with the needle on the plane while Nils held me down. “Huh. Wel, that’s a matter of opinion.”
“Listen, Ciel. I know this whole experience has been hard on you, but if we’d had to go in with guns blazing, our whole
operation would’ve been jeopardized. You understand, don’t you?” She sounded sympathetic, and probably was, but I detected
the hint of a ruthless streak. Guess it went with the job description.
I sighed. “Yeah, I suppose.”
“I knew you would. You would’ve made a great agent,” she said, with either sincere or skilfuly faked admiration. I wanted to
believe it was real.
“Wel, what do we do now?” I asked, determined not to think about anything that would distract me from the task at hand.
Time enough to stew later.
“You could be a big help if you head in that direction”—she pointed—“about a hundred yards or so, shimmy up a sturdy-looking tree, and keep your field glasses aimed toward the camp. Cal me if you see anything that strikes you as odd.”
“Rosie-girl,” I said, proud that I remembered her incognito name, “this whole situation strikes me as odd. But I’l do my best.”
Chapter 28
The pine I chose wasn’t overly tal, but it was densely branched enough to provide good camouflage. I only fel on my ass twice
before I managed to monkey my way up high enough to grab a branch. Once seated as securely as possible, I got out my
binoculars and looked back to where I’d left Laura. She was hidden too wel in the branches of her own tree for me to make her
out, but I thought I saw a flash of light from one of her lenses.
I scanned the rest of the area and found I had a decent enough view of the camp. I could make out the shape of the biggest
ship-grave, and a boatload (so to speak) of Vikings miling around it. I guessed they’d al start getting more organized when the
time for the ceremony approached. Nils had said evening, but that was a pretty broad time frame in Sweden this time of year. Did
he mean evening by the clock, which would be here soon enough, I reckoned, or did he mean evening by the setting sun, which
would be much later?
I hoped it was the former, because my legs were going to cramp up if I had to sit stil for long. Also, I was going to need a
ladies room pretty soon. The urge to pee was only a smal nudge in my bladder now, but I knew from experience how fast that
could baloon into dire need.
Of course, once I started thinking about it, the need for relief snowbaled. Crap. Guys had it so easy. In the first place, most of
them had bladders like horses—they could hold it forever, and then pee buckets. Women—me, anyway—weren’t so fortunate.
I’d have crossed my legs if I could have without faling. I supposed if I got desperate enough I could climb back down and find
a place to squat, but exposing my privates to whatever creepy-crawlies might inhabit the woodland floor was unappealing, and
besides, it would take time away from my lookout duties.
There was one other option open to me, however, if I dared.
I lifted my binoculars and did as much of a circular sweep as I could without breaking my neck. No one near enough to worry
about, except possibly Laura. Hugging the trunk, I inched around to the side of the tree opposite where she was posted, and
adapted to the first smal-enough male aura I thought of (Stanley, a code monkey friend of a friend, with no people skils
whatsoever, who’d needed help landing a job—I got him through the interview process, and he’d been happily and solitarily
writing computer programs ever since), unzipped my fly, and started emptying out. This, I thought with a sigh, was the biggest
advantage to being male. You could urinate outside without getting your feet wet.
“Tel me you are not peeing on my head,” Bily’s appaled voice wafted up from below.
Aack! I couldn’t believe it. When had he snuck up on me? My stupid luck strikes again.
If I’d been a girl caught peeing, I could’ve stopped on a dime. Guys do not have the same ability, at least not the one I’d
picked. The stream continued for several seconds, in spite of my best effort to bring it to a halt. As soon as I shook off the last
dribble, I adapted back to myself and hastily zipped up.
“What are you doing there? You’re supposed to be on the other side of the camp.” When cornered, you may as wel attack
first.
“What am I doing? Getting wet, that’s what. Now, get your ass down here—we need to talk.”
“About what?” I staled.
“About why you’re not where you’re supposed to be, for one.”
Oh, that. “Can’t it wait? I’m kinda busy.”
“Now.” There was a world of threat in that one word. I sighed and started climbing down. If I didn’t, he’d just climb up after
me. When I got there, he was pouring a bottle of drinking water over his hair and face, scrubbing vigorously.
“Uh, sorry about that. I didn’t know you were there. Honest.” I stifled my laughter, but not very effectively, so I also kept my
distance.
“Jesus, cuz, if I’d known you were into water sports, I’d have worn my raincoat.” He sounded grumpy, but there was a hint of
laughter beneath his words, so I knew he wasn’t realy mad.
He stripped off his shirt and threw it on the ground. His pants had somehow escaped the shower, so he left them on, and after a
quick rinse of his chest and arms, he shook off most of the water. “Give me your shirt.”
“What?” I squeaked.
“Come on, I need a shirt. You have a T-shirt on under it, don’t you? I saw Laura give you one. Besides, you have an extra
thermal in your pack if you need it later. I didn’t get one of those. Sily me, not planning ahead for the odd rain of piss.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek. I realy didn’t want to have to tel him about the spider, or for that matter, the pile of cow
dung. It was too embarrassing. He already had enough to tease me about without adding more ammo to his arsenal. “Wouldn’t
you rather have my thermal?”
“Nah. Too tight for me. The shirt you’re wearing looks baggy enough on you that it’l work for me. Come on, give it.” He held
out a hand, impatient.
“Just a second.” I took off the pack and rummaged through it for the thermal. “You know, I think this would fit you. A little
snug, maybe, but that’s okay—it would show off your manly physique.”
“Ciel…” he said suspiciously, walking toward me.
“It’s your color, too. Tan is just the thing to set off your eyes. It’s al about the contrast. I learned that watching What Not to
Wear.” I backed away, holding the shirt up between us. “It deepens them to midnight blue, realy attractive.”
He folowed, until he had me backed up against the tree. Looming over me, he hooked one finger into the front of my shirt,
lifted it away from my chest, and peeked down. “Ciel, where’s your T-shirt?” he asked conversationaly, but his eyes driled into
mine.
“I, um, got a lit
tle warm, so I took it off?”
“So it’s in your pack.”
“No. Because I, uh, lost it.”
“Ciel?”
He wasn’t stepping back, and neither was the tree. I swalowed again. “That’s my name.”
“Where did Nils take you when he escorted you from the camp earlier?”
“You saw that?”
“Yeah, cuz. I notice things. Like, your eyes are green again, and the makeup Laura put on your mouth has somehow been
rubbed off. Had a little help with that part, did you?”
His voice was stil nerve-rackingly even-keeled. It was making me edgy. When I get edgy, I get testy. “Wel, if you saw a
freaking Viking taking me away, then why in the hel didn’t you do something about it?”
“Nils isn’t a Viking. He’s with SÄPO. I knew he wouldn’t kil you, and my attention was otherwise occupied with trying to find
a way to save Trey.”
“Wait a minute—you knew al along Nils wasn’t a Viking?”
He shrugged. “Not al along. Mark told me after he got here.”
“Did you know when you clobbered him on the beach?”
“Maybe.”
“Bily, how could you?”
His eyes narrowed. “He hit you. I didn’t like that.”
“But you were going to just leave him there, hurt, on the beach!”
“Look, Ciel, Nils is a professional. He’s undercover. I wouldn’t have been doing him any favor by taking him out of the game.
Now stop avoiding my question. Where did he take you?”
“His uncle has a farm right across the road. Nils had the idea I might be safer there, away from Per.”
“Can’t fault his reasoning. A farm, huh? That would explain the aroma of”—he sniffed me rudely—“dung.”
“There were cows,” I said haughtily.
“And was there a handy haystack?” He puled a piece of straw from the hair at my nape, and flicked it away disdainfuly.
“None of your business.”
Speculation grew in his eyes. “Better watch yourself, cuz. I think you’re getting a little too caught up in … things.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, do you and Mark get together and compare scripts?” I pushed him away and stomped off a few paces.
My back to him, I removed my shirt and tossed it over my shoulder at him, then puled the thermal quickly over my head.
“Great,” he muttered. “Now I get to smel like piss and shit.”
“You washed off al the pee, and the shirt wil air out soon. Get over it. Now, if you’l excuse me, I’m going back up the tree. I
have a camp to watch.”
He caught my arm and held me back. There was something in his eyes I couldn’t quite read. “Tel me you didn’t sleep with
him.”
What? He thought I…? I flushed. With embarrassment at first, but anger quickly overcame that. What gave him the right to
judge me?
“I fail to see how that is any concern of yours,” I said, my words clipped.
He swore. “For God’s sake, you’ve known him what? Two days? What are you trying to do, make up for lost time?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Wel, you’ve only slept with two men in your whole life—that loser back in colege, and the asshole lawyer your brother
wound up firing. I’m assuming you must be feeling a little deprived if you’re jumping into the hayloft with the first Viking who
kidnaps you.”
“What makes you think those are the only two? Maybe I’ve slept with every guy I ever went out with, like you do with your
women,” I flung at him.
“You haven’t,” he said, mouth tight.
Okay, now I wanted him to think I had slept with Nils. “How can you be sure? Because I’m a girl? Sauce for the goose, Bily.”
“Remember when I told you I couldn’t decipher your diary? I lied.”
“Ha. If that were true, you’d know I never slept with the lawyer, he just spread rumors that I did.”
I clamped my mouth shut, upset that I’d given that away. It didn’t say much for my appeal that the loser back in colege had
been the only guy I’d ever had. Or, rather, halfway had. The boy had barely breached the ramparts before his ammunition was
spent. It was downright embarrassing for both of us, and he’d never asked me out again. Stil, I counted it.
Bily’s whole manner softened. He brushed a thumb over my hot cheek. “Don’t you see? I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
My anger left me in a rush. “I didn’t sleep with Nils. There was a spider. It fel down my neck. I had to take off both shirts to
get it off me, and my T-shirt landed in a pile of…” I trailed off when I saw the stark relief in his eyes.
After a minute his dimples appeared. “A spider, huh? Bet you jumped a mile.”
“Tel me about it.” I shuddered again, just at the memory.
“So, was it a big spider?” His eyes laughed and his hand walked up my arm, fingers wiggling like little legs.
I jumped back and slapped it away. “See? That’s just why I didn’t want to tel you—I knew you’d do that. Now leave.”
“Aw, come on. I’m sorry.” He puled me into a hug and stroked my back with a flat hand. No more spider fingers.
I looked up at him. “Bily … I have to have a life, too. I can’t just watch you guys from the sidelines forever.”
He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly while something warred in his eyes. Finaly, he gave my hair a tug and said, his
voice soft and serious, “Right. I understand. But when you get into the game, just remember I’m on the playing field, too.”
Chapter 29
Bily left without another word. I scurried back up my tree, and did not think about what I thought I’d read in his eyes.
Instead, I watched the stupid camp until my eyes blurred. Twice I saw Trey dragged from his tent and hauled before Per, who
questioned him, slapped him, and sent him back. He must not have liked the answers. Nils was there with them both times; his
face tightened when Per hit Trey, and once, when Per was about to use a fist instead of an open hand to strike, he held Per’s arm
back.
The sun was getting low in the sky when the vibration from my cel phone gave me an unexpected thril. I dug it out of my
pocket and flipped it open. “Yeah. Uh, Sarah here.”
“I’ve heard from our friend.” Laura’s voice—she must mean Mark. “We’re going in. The cavalry has been held up. Stay where
you are and keep a lookout for them, and when they get here, tel them what we’ve done.”
She hung up before I could argue with her. Did she think I was just going to sit back and watch the three of them—wel, four,
counting Nils—go up against a hundred Vikings? Those suckers were big. They had swords, and knives, and God knew what
other kind of medieval weapons … and I would be about as useful under the circumstances as a parasol in a hurricane. So I
stayed put and prayed SÄPO would hurry their asses up.
Through the binoculars I saw Laura and Bily approach the camp together, looking like curious tourists. From their gestures, I
could tel they were asking about the spectacle, maybe inquiring if it were some sort of reenactment exercise. What would they
do? Make a distraction of some sort, I guessed, so Mark could get to Trey.
Which one was Mark? No way to know—there were too many possibilities. Was he even close enough to Trey to do any
good? I just didn’t see how Laura and Bily could create a big enough ruckus to get the attention of al the Vikings at once. Even if
they puled out some handy weapons, numbers alone would overwhelm them.
As if to prove my point, one of the big guys clapped an arm over Bily’s shoulders. Another did the same from the othe
r side,
and voila! Bily sandwich. His struggles did no good—he was held immobile.
Only one Viking attempted the same with Laura, and got a foot in his face for his troubles. Damn. I didn’t know anybody could
kick that high, that fast. The big galoot went over like a feled tree. For al the good it did Laura. As soon as the Viking went
down, three more were on top of her.
Pain flared at the tip of my left index finger. Shit. I spit out a piece of fingernail and sucked off a drop of blood. I couldn’t just
sit here waiting for SÄPO. I’d be down to my knuckles before long.
I shook my hand. Shit, shit, shit. It stung.
Wait a minute—that was it! Shit.
I dropped from the tree, sliding down the trunk like it was a fireman’s pole. I ran—faster than I ever had before—straight back
to the farm. They needed a distraction, I’d give them a distraction.
The truck was stil behind the barn, just where it had been the last time I saw it. Only this time there was a man with it. Crap.
Apparently Nils’s neighbor was getting ready to fertilize the fields.
The driver’s seat was empty—the neighbor was in back of the rig, piping more of the oozy brown glop into the back of the
truck from a holding tank. The ultimate in recycling—straight from the cows to the field, to help grow the grass to feed the cows.
I chewed my bottom lip, debating whether to enlist the neighbor’s aid. He could be a major help, since he knew how to
operate the machinery, but what if he just thought I was crazy? At best, he could shoo me off the property; at worst, hold me until
the authorities came. There was no time for that, or for the lengthy explanations it would take even if I could somehow convince
him I wasn’t a lunatic.
So I’d just have to take the truck and do it myself.
How close was he to topping off the tank? I had no idea, and I didn’t plan to wait long enough to find out. I snuck to the front
of the truck, opened the door just enough to squeeze through, and slid myself into the driver’s seat. No keys, but that was okay. It
was an old truck; getting it started shouldn’t be a problem.
To my right, rising up from the floor below the dash, was a control panel I guessed was connected to the distribution system. I
