By sending his son, the man might as well have tried to pull the trigger himself. In Rook’s world, such men needed to be confronted sooner rather than later. You never gave someone an extra chance to take you out.
Rook parked outside Anni’s store, just as Peder had done the previous day. He didn’t know where Fossen lived, but he figured all he had to do was show up in town and the man would find him. So he leaned against the car, crossed his arms, and stared out at the waves crashing into the sharp rocks a few feet past the other side of the road.
Fossen showed up a minute later. Walking down the street, he seemed even larger, one of the few men at whom Rook did not have to look down to make eye contact. Rook thought he’d glimpsed a door closing at a house a few doors down behind Fossen, and filed away the information for future use.
Rook stood with his hands at his sides, but he knew he could draw, aim, and fire the Desert Eagle in less time than it took most people to blink. Gunning the man down in the middle of the street wasn’t his first choice, but he didn’t have a problem if it went down that way. Despite Peder’s warnings, Rook suspected that killing Fossen would actually solve more than just his own problem, and not every resident would shed a tear at Fossen’s demise.
The taller man stopped a few feet away, smiled, and opened his arms in a welcoming gesture. “Stanislav, it is good to see you again. Allow me to apologize if I was rude yesterday. It was no way to welcome a visitor.”
Rook blinked. Of all the ways he’d considered Fossen might react to Rook’s return to town, this one had never crossed his mind.
No way, he thought. The bastard is up to something.
Rook said, “You told me yesterday to get out of town or something bad could happen to me. You didn’t want any visitors. The threat was pretty direct.”
Fossen pursed his lips and dropped his chin. “As I said, please forgive me. It is rare to have someone visit, and I was in a bad mood yesterday. I should have realized that having someone else to work on our little problem could only help.”
Fossen took a step closer and held out his hand. For a second, Rook was torn. Should he just shoot the man and get it over with? He couldn’t do it, not with Fossen in front of him smiling and trying to shake his hand, never mind the fact that shooting people—even assholes—in cold blood broke his own personal code of ethics.
There’s no way he knows about his son, Rook thought. He couldn’t be that good of an actor.
So if Fossen had sent his son to kill Rook, and here Rook was, what did the town’s leader think had happened? It didn’t make any sense. Sometimes, situations demanded shooting first and asking questions later, but this didn’t seem like one of those times.
Rook shook Fossen’s hand. “I’m glad to hear that, I guess.” When he met Fossen’s eyes, he didn’t see any deception, though he saw the same power he’d noticed the previous day. He wouldn’t kill the man, but trust…? Well, Rook would watch his back every second in this town, Fossen’s apparent change of heart notwithstanding.
As they shook hands, Fossen seemed to scrutinize Rook’s face. “Where are you from?”
Rook wondered if the man was on to him. “Russia.”
“Yes,” Fossen said. “I mean originally. Your lineage.”
Rook saw no reason to lie about that, so he told the truth. “My father was born in Germany. My mother in Sweden. Both families immigrated to…Russia, and my parents met in school.”
“I sensed you had a strong bloodline,” Fossen said, looking strangely pleased. But his lips turned down slightly. “Though it is strange. Immigrating to Russia? I can’t help wondering why.”
“You and me both,” Rook said. “It’s a family mystery I’m afraid.” The truth, of course, was that both families had immigrated to the United States, as many families at the time did. If Fossen suspected the lie, he didn’t press it.
“I had my first encounter with the creature last night,” Rook said, changing the subject. “Have you seen it?”
“Yes, one time. After the first killing. We have not had a murder here in two decades, and people were very upset. That night, my son Jens and I patrolled the area to see what we could learn. The moon was full and I smelled the stench right before I saw it. As soon as it recognized me, it ran away, faster than you would think possible.”
Rook said, “Oh, I saw the bastard coming at full speed toward me—I know about fast. What do you mean it recognized you?”
“I am sorry, I meant it saw me. As soon as it saw me, it ran. What did you do when it came at you?”
“I put a bullet in its leg. It changed directions but hardly slowed at all, like the bullet didn’t even hurt it.”
Fossen’s eyebrows showed a trace of surprise. “You hit it? Really? That is more than any of us have managed.”
“Yeah, well, the thing can outrun me in its sleep, and I doubt I’ll get so lucky again. Do you have any idea what it is?”
“I do not know. We are an unusual town, but a monster such as this…” Fossen held his palms up, “…is beyond our experience.”
Rook thought he detected something in Fossen’s voice, a sign that his answer didn’t constitute the whole truth. No surprise there. He decided not to pursue it. “I’ve had an experience or three, but I can’t say I’ve ever seen a guy built like a tree who can run like a cheetah and smells like Satan’s asshole. So tell me about the wolves. How do they fit in?”
“The wolves.” Fossen eyes darted to the ground for a second. “That will take a few minutes to explain. Why don’t you come back to the house? We will have some tea and I will tell you the whole story.”
Rook stifled a laugh. No way he’d hear the whole story about anything. Tea with Fossen could be more hazardous to his health than chain-smoking unfiltered Russian cigarettes. Still, he had no other options.
“Sure, that sounds fine.”
“Then come this way.” Fossen turned back the way he had come. Rook followed, glancing at the houses as he passed them. He noticed one disturbing thing. Every single house had at least once face pressed to the glass of a window.
They were watching him.
“So you want to know about the wolves?” Fossen didn’t waste any time getting to the point after a woman—possibly his wife, Rook wasn’t sure—brought their tea into the living room. Rook considered this directness one small point in the man’s favor.
“Seems like a good idea.”
“Very well. It might seem odd in such an isolated town, but I am a scientist by trade. I have a small lab where I study animals, with a special focus on wolves.”
“Why wolves?”
“Why not? I could bore you with the details of how I came to be interested in them, but let us just say that we can learn a lot about human beings from them. In any case, I always have a few live specimens around, and it happens that this year I took possession of a particularly large male. He was the result of some very selective breeding focused on large size, and while he is closest to a Russian wolf, he is technically something unique.”
“So that must be the black wolf I saw. I didn’t know black wolves existed.”
“Oh, there have always been black wolves, but they are not common. And a wolf this size is something close to the largest one recorded since the dire wolves became extinct.”
Rook noted a trace of sadness in Fossen’s voice. Odd for someone who seemed like such a hard case. “He was huge, I’ll agree with that. So tell me, what does your research have to do with our massive predator? You’re not suggesting that it is a wolf?”
Fossen laughed. “Of course not. No, where the wolves come in is that part of my research has been on seeing how the wolves react to different stimuli. I have discovered that certain smells drive the large one into a murderous frenzy. Any significant amount of blood does it, as does raw meat. The interesting thing is that after identifying the source of the smell, the wolf directs its aggression on whatever people or animals are closest to it. My assistant and I each sustained a bite bef
ore we figured this out. The rest of our wolves do not have this reaction on their own, but when they are with the large wolf, they will follow his example and also attack.”
Despite his distrust, Rook found himself interested in the story. He’d seen the wolf up close, and it seemed different, more in control than most wild animals he’d encountered. Yet Fossen was describing far different behavior. He thought he knew what came next in the story.
“That’s an unusual reaction. Let me guess, after the second killing, you wondered if perhaps the horrible smell emanating from the creature would trigger the same aggressive reaction in the wolves?”
“Yes I did. I had to do something, and it also served to help me figure out where to go next with the research. Obviously any scientific controls are non-existent now, but what I learn could wind up being critical.”
“You released the wolves. What happened next?”
“That night, at about midnight, the whole town heard a terrifying roar coming from somewhere not too far from town. The next morning, I went out to look for the wolves. They are outfitted with implants so I can track them. I found one of them dead, its neck snapped, and with teeth marks around the shoulder and belly. Teeth marks not from a carnivore but from some sort of massive primate. The rest of the wolves stood around it in a circle, as if protecting their dead companion. I have heard of such behavior on rare occasions, but never seen it myself.”
“So the creature killed one of the wolves. What makes you think they’re keeping it at bay?”
“I followed the trail the wolves had taken to get to this point, and a half mile away, I found several chunks of flesh with brown and orange fur. The smell on the flesh confirmed that it could only have come from our creature. The wolves had to have hurt it. And ever since that day, I have allowed them to roam, and the creature has not come back.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am sure it has not killed anyone else. It does seem to be targeting Peder’s farm, and I have no idea why.”
“Yeah, that does seem strange. But the whole thing is strange. You just happen to be targeted by some freak of nature, then you happen to have a pack of wolves handy with a leader who will attack the creature as soon as he gets a whiff of its stink. There’s something you’re not telling me, or at least some clue we’re missing.”
Fossen’s face turned a little bit red. “I have told you all I can about my research without breaking confidences. There is nothing else you need to know. As for the creature, your guess is as good as mine.”
Rook stared at Fossen and didn’t say a word. The Norwegian didn’t blink, didn’t show any sign of discomfort beyond the red face. Finally, Rook sighed.
“Well, I don’t know that I’m any better off than I was. My original plan was to capture the big wolf. It sounds like that won’t tell us anything you don’t already know. What about tracking it? Do you have any sense of whether it has encountered the creature, based on where it roams?”
“I have been trying to analyze the movement patterns. Every night except one or two, there has been a short period of time where the pack is sprinting at top speed. Maybe this is when they are tracking the creature. Perhaps if we follow them at a distance, but move in when we see this speed increase, we would find the creature.”
Rook snorted. “And then what? It’ll take more than just a guy with a gun to bring this thing down. Do you have anything more substantial that we can fire from a distance, something at least semi-automatic?”
“We do have one or two things that might be of use. How about an AR-15?”
“Yep, that would probably do it. Semi-automatic.”
“Actually, I have the auto sear for it.”
Rook raised his eyebrows. “You’ve got an AR-15 converted to fully automatic? What do you need that for?”
“I have more than one. We are isolated out here. You never know what sort of threats will come along.”
“Given what I saw last night, I can’t argue with that.”
“Great. So what time do you want to meet to go after it?”
“Whoa. We definitely need your tracking device, but I go out into the field alone.”
Fossen’s voice rose. “You are not in a position to be making that kind of demand.”
“Oh no? Do you want my help or not?”
The older man was silent. Rook said, “I thought so. It’s nothing personal. You just show me how your tracking device works and I’ll do the rest.”
“No, you will not. The device I have is large and needs to stay in one place. I can keep in touch with you by walkie-talkie.”
“Walkie-talkie? I thought you didn’t have any outside communication?”
“These things have a range of about ten miles. They hardly qualify. I can tell you where the wolves are and you can follow at a distance where they will not know you’re there.”
“And you’ll also give me the weapon, right?”
Fossen’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, I will. But you understand that I am trusting you?”
“Sure, like I’m trusting you. For all I know, you’ve poisoned my tea.”
Fossen’s laugh boomed. “You are a funny man. There is one thing I know for certain.”
Fossen looked serious, and Rook couldn’t shake a sense of threat, but he played along. “Yeah, what’s that?”
“The death of a man like you will not be from drinking a cup of poisoned tea.”
7
Rook’s thoughts turned to his team as he drove back up the hill. He wondered what Queen would do about Fossen if she were in Rook’s shoes. Probably threaten to cut his balls off if he didn’t spill everything.
Rook missed her, missed the whole team, but he didn’t quite feel ready to rejoin the real world. Sure, if he had a phone, he’d let them know where he was, but the loss of his team in Russia still weighed on him. He needed to focus on the current mission.
Right now, Fossen was helping him, and he was curious what the town’s leader was up to. Fossen feeding him information via walkie-talkie wouldn’t exactly be like Chess Team’s Deep Blue. Deep Blue had guided most of their missions, his satellite capabilities and worldwide contacts acting like eyes above the battlefield. When they had learned Deep Blue’s identity—the recently resigned President of the United States—it had all made sense. No, Fossen wasn’t Deep Blue, but Rook would take any advantage he could get.
Back at the house, Peder was absent. With darkness almost complete already, Rook retired to the barn for some more rest before Fossen would meet him there at ten that night to deliver the walkie-talkie and the AR-15. He closed his eyes and let sleep take over.
He was awakened by the sound of gravel crunching under car tires. His watch said eight o’clock, so he roused himself, grabbed a flashlight, and poked his head out the door. Peder was slamming the door of another Volvo, which then drove off. Rook shined the flashlight in the old man’s direction.
Peder held his hands to his eyes. “Stanislav? Is that you?”
“Yep. Welcome home.”
Peder approached the barn. “Thank you, son. I understand things did not go as planned with Eirek.”
“You could say that. The man was so damn reasonable; he was like a different person from yesterday.”
Peder nodded. “He can be like that. I do not bother to try to figure out what is going on in his head. He has done great things for this town though.”
“Like what?”
“A ways back, he convinced the Norwegian government to fund a geothermal power plant for us. Before that, the old above-ground lines were always breaking down, leaving us without power for days at a time. Now, we have the most reliable power in the nation. I still do not know how he pulled it off.”
“What about his research? Do you know anything about that?”
Peder’s voice carried caution. “What did he tell you about his research?”
“That he specializes in wolves, how they interact with their environment, how humans can learn things from studying them.�
��
“That sounds about right. Do not ask me the details, I’m just a farmer.”
“Just a farmer. I’ll bet my pension that you used to be more than just a farmer.”
“Perhaps I was. In any case, Fossen’s research is his business.”
Rook shook his head and headed into the barn, saying, “There are too many things you guys here won’t talk about. I wonder if either of you really care that much about stopping the yeti.”
Peder grabbed his arm; normally such a move might have caused Rook to react with at least a hint of violence, but he had come to like the old Norwegian and knew the gesture contained no threat. The old man said, “If you believe nothing else, Stanislav, believe that I want it stopped.”
The intensity in the man’s eyes shone through even in the dull light. Rook threw up his hands. “I give up. I should have stayed in Russia.”
“Yes, Stanislav, I have told you that more than once. So what are you and Fossen up to?”
“Your sources didn’t tell you?”
“Word about you and Eirek talking for ten minutes in the street passes easily. The substance of your conversation behind closed doors does not.”
“We’re gonna use the wolves to get to the creature. Fossen’s got some kind of tracking device on them, and he’s convinced they encounter the creature just about every night.”
“What did he think of your plan to capture a wolf?”
“At this point, I’d be perfectly happy to just shoot the creature and be done with it. Capturing a wolf is just a backup plan.”
The sound of an engine made its way to Rook’s ears. He looked at Peder and saw that the old man had heard it too. Peder said, “That is Thorsen’s car. Driving fast, too, by the sound of it. I wonder what is going on?”
They walked out in time to see headlights flash into the short driveway. A man got out, long white hair flowing like something out of a Biblical scene from an old movie. His face was flushed in the high beams.
Callsign: Rook - Book 1 (A Stan Tremblay - Chess Team Novella) Page 4
