MORE THAN THE MOON

by A Rosendale

  When he didn’t fill in the blank, she prodded. “Well, how many?”

  “One. My son.”

  “It must be difficult to be away from him for your job.”

  The words pierced Dirk. He’d done a fine job of keeping his personal feelings at bay. He’d been about to board a plane from Scotland to Oregon when the call came through to report to France immediately. At that point, it had already been four months since he’d seen his two-year-old. The ache that filled his chest had been put aside by the action of the past two days. Sonya’s simple statement brought the longing cascading back.

  He chose not to respond.

  Sonya took his silence as the pain it was and placed a hand on his knee. It was meant as a supportive gesture, but it only made Dirk feel awkward.

  * * *

  They stopped for gas an hour outside of Lyon. Sonya noted Dirk casting glances in the rearview mirror as they regained the road.

  “How old is your son?” she asked to dispel the awkward silence.

  “Two,” he answered succinctly. He shot another suspicious glance behind them.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Hold on,” he answered as he leaned into the gas pedal and they swerved around a switchback.

  “Dirk?” she demanded in a high-pitched voice.

  “We’ve been followed since the gas station.”

  Sonya gripped the overhead handle and her eyes grew wide with anxiety.

  Dirk steered the stolen van around another switchback, climbing ever higher into the mountains.

  A sports car behind them gained on the swerving road. Dirk pushed the van to its limit, but the altitude and incline had topped out the accelerator. They crawled along while the BMW surged up on their bumper.

  “This is going to get rough,” he muttered as the car pulled alongside them on the two-lane road. He grunted as metal ground against metal and the van jerked sideways.

  “Dirk?” Sonya muttered again.

  But he was too distracted to offer her comfort at the moment. The vehicles bumped together again and he struggled to keep the van on the road. One of the bearded men in the car brandished a gun and rolled down the automatic window to take aim at the cab.

  “Get down!” He pressed a hand over Sonya’s head to push her down into the seat while hardly ducking himself. Glass shattered around them. The van wove dangerously. Dirk glanced over the dash, blinking blood out of his eyes from the new gash on his temple. He stared briefly down the barrel of a handgun only a few feet away, then twisted the wheel.

  The van careened down the mountainside, bouncing like a pinball between tree trunks. Dirk kept his arm pressed against his charge’s chest to keep her from crashing into the windshield. But when the vehicle came to a final crash at the bottom of the valley, his restraint failed and they both slammed into the front dash.

  Chapter 38

  Dirk shook his head to clear the fog of concussion. He passed a hand over his brow to clear the blood leaking from the cut on his left temple. A groan escaped from his lips as he noted the ache in his chest and head. Only a few minutes had passed since the crash, according to his cracked watch face. Forcing personal pains away, he turned to Sonya.

  He shook her gently. There were no apparent external wounds and she came around quickly.

  “Dirk?” she muttered vaguely.

  “I’m right here. We need to get moving,” he advised as he clicked the seat belt restraint.

  Sonya rallied herself, as sore and bruised as she was. Dirk helped her out of the car. She noted the trickle of blood down his cheek and hoped she didn’t have a matching wound. But her aching wrist told a different story. He retrieved a black backpack from the rear seat.

  Dirk tugged her through the alpine forest. She felt as if she were tumbling through a horror movie, leaning on upright trunks for a moment’s respite before stumbling into a shadowy wood.

  “I can’t keep going,” Sonya gasped, collapsing next to a lichen-covered boulder and kicking off her high-heeled shoes. Angry red blisters pulsed on her feet.

  Dirk shot her a frown and glanced behind them. He quickly stifled the thought that came to mind: ‘Alma would never wimp out like this’. “We can’t stop here,” he objected and yanked her to her feet.

  “I…I can’t,” she repeated in exhaustion. She was cradling her left wrist to her chest and despite the long pant cuffs, he could see her ankles were swollen from running in heels. He had to concede that he was impressed she’d made it this far.

  Grunting at the effort, he swept her into his arms and they continued at a brisk walk.

  “I’m sorry about all this,” she said.

  “Shh,” he replied, perhaps more harshly than he’d intended. “I don’t think they’re far behind us,” he explained more gently.

  Dirk pushed through the afternoon, stopping regularly to sip from the canteen in his backpack and rest the ache in his arms, back, and legs. Sonya tried walking a few times, but made it no more than a hundred feet before stumbling and crying in pain.

  By late afternoon even Dirk was fading. He stumbled on a protruding tree root and was unable to recover before Sonya spilled out of his arms, tumbling into a thicket of leafy bushes with a startled cry. The impact crushed air from Dirk’s lungs. He coughed and sputtered as he sat up, wincing at the new throb in his knee.

  Rustling accompanied Sonya’s exit from the bushes. She grimaced as sticks and rocks prodded her bare feet. “Are you okay?” she asked as he regained his feet.

  “Fine,” he muttered in aggravation. He straightened the backpack on his sweat-stained back and reached for her.

  “Maybe we should take a break,” she suggested.

  Dirk started to shake his head.

  “Hey, you can’t deny that the both of us are screwed if you can’t keep going.”

  Dirk sighed and agreed. He motioned to a copse of trees nearby. “May I interest you in the local Marriott?”

  For the first time in two days, she laughed. The sound was so startling in the current situation that Dirk had to join in. To prevent further damage to her blistered feet, he carried her the distance to their night’s sanctuary. He unslung the backpack as Sonya nestled down in the roots of a tree. After a brief moment of stretching his tight muscles, he sat nearby and passed her a granola bar from the pack.

  “Mmm. Five-star accommodations and a delicious meal to match? You sure know how to show a girl a good time!”

  He chuckled softly and peeled back the wrapper of a protein bar. “So, any more thoughts on why these guys are so persistent on killing you?”

  Sonya frowned as she chewed. “I don’t know. I…I did submit a theoretical proposal two weeks ago.”

  “On what?”

  “When I say ‘theoretical’, I mean absolutely and utterly farfetched.”

  “Let’s hear it,” he urged.

  Sonya rolled her eyes. “It’s a chemical compound that bonds to metals. It would be released in the airspace over militaristically aggressive territories. Initially, it would simply jam all satellite communication. Then, after the compound reached the ground, it would begin to deteriorate all metals, specifically those that compose weapons.” She shook her head. “It’s completely hypothetical.”

  “But just real enough to attract the attention of radical terrorists,” Dirk explained.

  She scowled. “Stupid radical terrorists.”

  He smiled. “You’re handling this pretty well.”

  With a shrug, she said, “I learned long ago that humor is the most reliable means of coping.”

  He finished the mediocre rationing of food and smiled gently at her. “I have to agree.”

  They talked quietly about Sonya’s scientific career until nightfall. When the sun set, it cooled to a chilly temperature. Sonya drew her knees to her chest, but no amount of hugging her own body heat steeled her against the alpine cold. She glanced over at Dirk, who seemed more than comfortable staring up at the night sky.

  Frowning to herself,
she scooted across the space and snuggled up to his arm. Dirk was distracted out of his thoughts of home by the contact. Sonya’s shivering convinced him to drape an arm over her shoulders and she sidled up to his side. He winced as she nudged bruised ribs. Minutes after sharing body warmth, she faded into exhausted slumber.

  * * *

  Dirk woke to the sudden rustle of leaves above. For a moment, he dreamt that he was cuddling with Alma, the wind whistling through their open window. Then the proximity of the moon, the discomfort of the roots digging into his back, and the stranger so close to his side brought him fully awake. Startled and uncomfortable with the fact that he’d allowed himself to relax in Sonya’s presence, he quickly extracted himself from her and scooted to the next tree over.

  A heavy sigh escaped his chest. He ached desperately for his wife and wished for nothing more than to be home in Oregon. Sighing again, he leaned against the bark and stared through the wind tossed branches at the half moon.

  As the thoughts in his mind became as tumultuous as the wind-blown trees, he decided to turn to other things. Drawing the backpack to him, he extracted two paperback novels, gifts from Alma shortly before leaving four months previously. He thought momentarily of using a penlight to finish the book about a fictional thief stealing from the Vatican. But any light would instantly divulge their location for an enemy searching in the night.

  The shadows of Sonya’s pair of black heels caught his eye on the nearby pine needles. Glancing back at the books, an idea caught spark.

  * * *

  Sonya awoke to a sudden screech. She jerked awake to find herself curled up next to a tree in pre-dawn light. She blinked away the dregs of sleep and scooted toward Dirk in the middle of the copse.

  “What are you doing?” she mumbled. She could just make out a roll of duct tape and two paperback books.

  “One sec,” he muttered, ripping another strip of tape and wrapping it around one of the books. He turned to her and his smile beamed in the dim light. “May I present the most comfortable shoes in the Alps.” He held forth a pair of different sized paperback novels, wrapped tight with duct tape. Another vine of tape formed sandals out of the books.

  Sonya stared skeptically.

  “They may not be Saks Fifth Avenue,” he defended, “but potentially better than those ridiculous heels.”

  She laughed. “Very true.” She slipped the recycled sandals onto her feet and tested them across the pine needles and turf.

  “Well?”

  “I wouldn’t go into cobbling if I were you, but I think they’ll do. Thank you!”

  Dirk grinned and stuffed the remaining roll of duct tape and the high heels in his bag, then extracted two more nutrition bars. They ate quickly, took rationed sips of water, and silently started off through the forest once more.

  It was mid-day when they stopped again. Dirk’s brow furrowed and he growled, “You have got to be kidding!” at the same time that Sonya said, “What’s that smell?”

  He touched her arm to propel her forward again, forcing her to hurry to keep up with his long, urgent strides. “Apparently, someone thinks your ‘theoretical’ proposal isn’t so ‘theoretical’.”

  She looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean? Who? I only ever submitted it to my supervisor, Dr. Mike Fischer!”

  Dirk frowned. “According to the report I received, Dr. Fischer was killed in his office last week.”

  “Oh my God! How?”

  “Gunshot. His files were turned upside down. I’m sorry.”

  Sonya took a while to process her grief. “You said someone thinks my idea is practical. Who?”

  “Well, whoever sent me after you.”

  “Which is…”

  “Classified,” he answered smoothly. “And whoever sent these guys.” He waved a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the assassins pursuing them. “They are dead set on killing you, so much so that they’re willing to burn down half the Swiss Alps to do it.”

  Sonya scoffed. “That’s ridiculous! Wildfires are so unpredictable. How could they possibly rely on a fire to catch up with us?”

  “The wind has been steadily blowing north down this valley since last night. The wind is only getting stronger and fueling the fire. It’s a good bet it’ll continue to do so.”

  The grim prospect of being chased down and burned to death spurred Sonya on. She was tired and sore but with Dirk leading the way and batting down treacherous undergrowth, she was able to push herself ever faster.

  Within an hour, smoke had caught up to them and the heat of the fire was palpable at their backs. They were both coughing when Dirk stopped to unsling the pack. He pulled out a spare black T-shirt, soaked it with the remainder of the water, and pressed it to Sonya’s face.

  “Keep this over your nose and mouth. Breathe through it.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll be fine,” he insisted and urged her ahead of him. He buried his face in the crook of his elbow and followed.

  Dirk imagined flames literally licking at his back, singeing his skin. He was coughing uncontrollably and his eyes were swollen and stinging from the smoke, making it difficult to keep track of Sonya, let alone their surroundings.

  Sonya nudged him and he squinted ahead to see a small village nestled in the shadow of the mountains. Relief flooded him as they stumbled toward it. It was with utmost shock he tumbled down the bank of a stream and landed face first in ice-cold water.

  He sucked in clean air. He resisted the urge to gulp handfuls of water. Instead he settled for splashing his face and blinking soot and ash out of his aching eyes.

  “Dirk!” Sonya called, her voice piercing his oxygen starved mind.

  He scrambled to his feet, automatically reaching for a hidden flap in the side of the backpack. By the time he was at her side, his weapon was in hand. She motioned behind him to the bank opposite. He recognized the three black-clad men from the vehicle that had forced them off the road. He aimed to fire at them, but a sudden wracking cough stole his breath and threw his shot off. He staggered out of sight, shoving Sonya ahead of him until they were behind a curve in the streambed.

  Finally managing a full breath to expand seared lungs, he took Sonya’s arm.

  “Listen to me,” he ordered.

  Panic was replaced by focus.

  “You need to stay low and follow the creek all the way to the village. Then find a car.”

  “A car? What about keys? I don’t know how to hotwire a car like you!”

  “It’s a small, rural village. The keys are probably in most of the cars. You just have to search for them.” He glanced around the dirt corner. “I’ll distract these guys. Go!” He pushed her away at the same moment he turned to shoot at their pursuers.

  They dove for cover and seconds later, dirt and water exploded around Dirk as they returned fire. He had already ducked down and was hurrying to another twist in the creek. Sonya was fifty feet away, scrambling up a gentle slope toward the village. Dirk cast a quick glance over the top of the rise, popped off a shot at the man on level with Sonya. The man quickly dropped into the creek. Sonya cast him an appreciative glance and hopped over the bank and disappeared.

  Dirk waited for the men to round the corner. His next shot finally made its mark and the first of the men let out a strangled cry before dropping into the shallow water. He hurried away before the man’s companions could return the favor. The dirt he’d just occupied was riddled with bullets.

  All the while, the wildfire raged along the south bank of the creek. Down by the water, it was cooler and easier to breathe. Every minute the flames licked closer to trees that reached out from the opposite bank and threatened to trap the men between the fire and Dirk’s gun.

  In a bold move, one of the men charged after Dirk, shooting wildly. Between coughing and running, Dirk was staggering already. He anticipated the moment when a shot in the back would throw him forward, sealing his fate to die here so far from his wife and son. But he was able to scale the no
rth bank without injury just as a honk sounded nearby. He squinted to see a BMW Gran Turismo speeding toward him, Sonya behind the wheel. She threw open the passenger door as the wheels skidded on the dirt. He threw another round of gunfire into the creek and fell into the car.

  “Lay on the horn as we drive through town,” he ordered.

  Sonya shot him a confused glance but conceded. Doors and windows were thrown open at the loud, obnoxious sound. A panicked evacuation began as the inhabitants saw the inferno bearing down on their homes.

  She nodded in understanding and steered out of town, crossing a bridge over the creek to gain distance from the fire. Amidst another bout of coughing, she glanced between Dirk’s bent double posture and the rearview mirror.

  “They’re behind us!” she exclaimed.

  Dirk forcefully subdued the burn in his chest and turned to see for himself a Volkswagen pursuing them. The remaining two killers were clearly visible in the front seat. He cursed and struggled to disentangle the backpack.

  “What is that?” She stared in alarm at the combustible he pulled from the bag.

  “Grenade,” he answered shortly, rolling down the window. “Keep your eyes on the road.” He leaned out the window and lofted the grenade. It bounced once on the pavement directly in front of the VW before detonating. The black car lifted twenty feet in the air and overturned into the roadside ditch with an earsplitting crash.

  “Where was that when we needed it last time?” Sonya demanded.

  “Out of reach,” he muttered. The cool air felt good on his overheated skin and helped him draw rejuvenating breaths into his aching chest, so he left the window down.

  “Are you okay?” she asked after a long silence cut only by wrenching coughs.

  Dirk waved the question away as unnecessary. “I’ll be fine. Turn left onto the road up here. We shouldn’t be far from Bern.”

  Chapter 39

  When they reached the airport, Sonya parked the car in the lot and silently hoped that the owners would eventually be reunited with it. Dirk led her to the bathrooms and passed her a comb from his bag.