by Randy Dutton
His hand reached toward hers but she pulled away to confirm the polite rejection.
He leaned back and let out an audible sigh. “My loss. Besides, we could use your tactical expertise.”
“We?”
“A computer group helping Alaska fight off Russia and the US government.”
“Anonymous has taken sides?” she whispered coyly referring to the computer hacking group.
“Let’s just say we’re promoting freedom.”
“Sounds like fun...but I’ll pass,” she said with a bit of regret.
“Well, you know how to contact me if you change your mind. Make sure you use the ‘delay program’ on the thumb drive. It throws a wrench in NSA’s ability to geographically locate a computer on the Internet based upon multiple network connection latency.”
He rose and walked away.
Anna rose and walked off, dropping her food container into a nearby trash bin.
Several minutes had passed since leaving the courtyard. Pete had been waiting under the sidewalk tree that shaded his SUV, scanning full circles.
Anna appeared from around a building corner and tapped his shoulder.
He spun around.
“Meet you inside.” She remotely unlocked the door and clambered in.
He closed her door then got into the driver’s side. “You get what you needed?”
She nodded while peeling thin plastic film off her fingertips. “Yeah.... Pete, when you’re doing surveillance, you have to look natural.”
“I was!”
“You were too intense...too stiff. Next time, drink a beer...kick back. Your body language screamed surveillance. Why weren’t you admiring the pretty girls strolling past?”
“Huh?”
“I counted at least 17 walking past your table...some even slowed down to admire the big hunk with the stern expression.”
His brows narrowed. “How—”
“Multi-tasking.” She smirked at Pete’s confusion. “I try never to lower my guard, particularly when I’m talking to a source. By the way, did you see the sign board advertisement near the taco stand?”
“Uh...no.”
With pursed lips, she shook her head. “Honey, you’ve got to take in everything.... There’s an exhibit at the Denver Science and Art Museum. It’s three miles east then north.” Her head motioned in the direction.
“You want to see an exhibit? Is this part of your...mission?”
Her smile returned and her tone was light. “No, but it’ll give you a little more insight into your very talented wife.”
“Then...by all means.” He chuckled. “What’s the theme?”
“Environmental awareness...through the eyes of children. It’s a traveling global photo contest encouraging children to get involved and convince adults why we need to stop carbon dioxide pollution and prevent global warming.”
“Co-opting children?”
“You know how Sal Alinsky said one wins an argument?” She tilted her head waiting for his response.
“Can’t say I studied radicals.”
“Pick the target, freeze it, personalize it, and polarize it.”
“And the target is?”
“Mankind’s inhumanity to nature.”
“So it’s indoctrination.”
“By children.... It’s always been about the children.”
“You’re smiling too broadly. Did you have something to do with it?”
She batted her long lashes. “M-a-y-b-e.”
“Maybe...how?”
“Years ago at a UN function, I proposed the idea to an official from the International Dialog for Environmental Action.”
He mouthed the title. “IDEA...I get it. Well, let’s see if the children interpreted correctly what your Machiavellian mind conjured.”
Chapter 35
August 24, 1300 hours
Denver Science and Art Museum
‘I Love Nature’ and ‘I Fear Pollution.’ That’s how the marquee described the double-themed exhibit. Beneath it were a dozen agitators with professionally stenciled signs reading ‘Time is Running Out, Stop Global Warming,’ ‘Stand Up for Climate Justice,’ ‘Climate Chaos Will Claim Us All.’
Anna pointed to a monster truck shaped sign. “Hmmm, I like that one, ‘Climate Shift is in High Gear’.”
“How many disaster descriptions did your people dream up?” Pete’s brow lifted.
Her eyes twinkled. “Oh, a few dozen.”
Pete and Anna passed by the yelling supporters and joined the many well-dressed patrons and children slowly shuffling through the crowded hall.
Pete’s head tilted as he studied the first photograph. Leaning toward her, he softly asked, “Two hands holding a seedling in front of by a concrete wall. It’s artistic but the title seems contrived. So which theme does it meet?”
From under her wide brim hat, her narrowed eyes studied various elements, and she responded equally softly. “The concrete wall probably represents a cold and oppressive denier society. The single seedling is new life, and the nearly spherical clay ball it’s sprouting from looks like a barren Earth. I think...love.”
“So what was your intent...that amateurs can do just as good a job in promoting environmental awareness as professionals?”
“Sometimes better. It’s trickle-up environmentalism. Adults have trouble saying no to enthusiastic children, even if the ideas aren’t well-formed. It’s a heart-string emotional tug.”
“And you’re proud of the manipulation?”
She shrugged. “Like any lawyer, I enjoy winning, even if I don’t agree with the message.” She nodded her head to a chaperoned group. “Look at the children’s tour group ahead of us.”
“Most of them are berating a couple others.” His expression was stern.
“Listen to the argument,” she whispered.
Pete cocked his head and his eyes narrowed. “They’re bullying the two about not loving the animals.... And the grinning teachers aren’t intervening.”
“Right. The masses will force their opinion on the minority until there’s no dissention.”
“You accept that?” He cocked his head and locked eyes with her.
“Of course not. I hate bullies.”
“But you helped create this conflict.”
“The old me put the game ahead of my personal beliefs.”
They moved to the next photo of a small iguana on the back of a large one. “The girl who took the photo wrote the caption, ‘animals are not things.’ Looks like love,” he announced.
“I think lizards are cute,” she responded affectionately.
“Dear, cute is beside the point. They’re in a terrarium! Is the girl claiming environmental justice for them? Or maybe she wants them to be turned loose?”
“Honey, environmental justice was critical in swaying public opinion, and particularly in convincing children this was the future prerogative.”
“Right. I’m sure the city folk would want to deal with nature’s reality,” he said sarcastically.
“Of course not...they still think food originates in grocery stores.... Oh, the next one’s illustrative.”
“Fire coming out of a kitchen sink? Really?”
“Remind you of a movie?”
His brow furrowed as he pondered the imagery. “Not really.”
“Gasland. The anti-fracking movie that showed natural gas burning from a water hose. The child transfers movie ideas into a threat to their home.”
“But flammable gases from the fresh water supply never really happened because of fracking.”
“Doesn’t matter. The movie used a fake video to illustrate a point,” she said.
“So, once it’s in the public consciousness and repeated enough, fiction becomes fact?”
“Exactly.... Moving on.”
They stepped to several comparative photos. Pete waved his hand between earlier browner satellite images of southern Africa and the recent greener ones.
“Okay, you can’t tell
me that the greening of arid Africa from increased CO2 is bad for the environment. This before and after photo sequence is proof CO2 is good.”
She grinned. “Depends on perspective. You’re an optimist. A pessimist would point out that trees growing faster than normal don’t get culled by frequent brush fires. The resulting shade then diminishes the savannah grasses...thus....” Her head dipped while waiting expectantly.
He exhaled deeply. “Animals die....”
“Yep.”
They stepped to the next photo showing fat marmots and small sheep. Her hand blocked the placard. “What’s this tell you?”
“They’re blaming global warming for changing their food supply,” he speculated.
“Let’s see if you’re right.” She read the description. “Yep. Says here that marmots now have a longer eating season because of climate change, and smaller sheep that would have died off are surviving and producing smaller offspring.”
“Sounds like adaptation. Is that bad?”
“Can be. If environmentalists can’t complain about starvation, they’ll argue the opposite. Too much food, too much eating, too many offspring, and then?” Her brow lifted.
“Starvation. Can’t win.... Okay, this next one, boys jumping from the backs of wallowing water buffalos. The title, ‘Man and nature can co-exist’”.
“More love,” she said.
“But the water buffalo was bred for docility. It hardly qualifies as nature. Don’t animal rights advocates object to the subjugation of animals? I mean, don’t they consider this a form of slavery? And, let me remind you, these are methane belching bovines!” he said sarcastically.
“You’re supposed to see tranquility, mankind, and nature cooperating. Understand...every photo has an obvious and hidden message. Most people pick up on the obvious. But it’s like your research. If you analyze it, almost everything beautiful has an underlying dark side.”
Chapter 36
August 24, late afternoon
Grand Lake Colorado
Anna stepped out of the SUV. “Gads! I’m so glad to be out of the car.”
From the Grand Lake Lodge parking lot she looked southward. Small waves rippled across Colorado’s largest natural lake. Slowly turning left, her eyes flicked from Pete’s gift cradled in her hand to the Rocky Mountains peaks. “Now this town is near perfect, even at, what”—she playfully smiled at her compass’s altimeter —“8,457 feet? And it’s my perfect temperature...74 degrees.” She put it back into the glove compartment.
“Stand still.” Wearing khaki shorts and a sleeveless white blouse, she grasped Pete’s shoulder and started swinging one leg back, then high above her head.
“The sky will change.” His eyes tracked her sweeping shoe. “Soon, it’ll cloud up over the higher peaks.”
She pivoted and started swinging the other leg. “Who cares?! Look at those mountains, just begging to be hiked. Oh, and smell the fir trees!” She shifted and performed sideways leg swings.
Pete’s attention focused on her limberness. He asked quietly, “Doesn’t that belted sword restrict your movement?”
“Nope.” Letting go, her very flexible body arched backward.
The stretched shirt against her curved body sent a shock wave of excitement through Pete. His smile soured when he noticed three guys in their mid-20s gawking at her lithe body from across the parking lot. They were packing rock climbing equipment. He shot a warning look, which caused them to turn away.
Pete turned back to Anna. “Did you ever go rock climbing? I mean, after flying, sky-diving and scuba diving, rock climbing seems a natural.”
“I’ve done some.” She stayed focused on stretching. “Ever hear of the International Wilderness Leadership School?”
“No.”
“It teaches rock and ice climbing. I had a private course in the Grand Tetons with a couple of its best instructors.” She stood upright and rotated her torso, her elbows becoming dangerous weapons. After a moment she finished.
“I thought you avoided wilderness.” He escorted her into the lodge restaurant.
“As a preference, yes, but in acquiring a skill set, my attitude was different.”
“Please tell me you had fun.”
Her head shook gently. “Not really. I picked up the techniques quickly, but...” She looked downward and clenched her lower lip.
“But what?”
Her eyes lifted. “The staff was annoyed that I focused on ascending and descending and not so much on teamwork, you know, helping others on future climbs. I did what was necessary, comfort and safety be damned. Once it was over, I was out of there, and on to the mission.”
“Wait!” He leaned forward and whispered into her ear. “You took rock climbing for a mission?” His brow lifted. “Will you tell me about it?”
“Maybe...part”—they sat at a booth—“but not in public.... How about you? As a Marine, I bet you climbed a lot.”
Pete raised two fingers to the approaching waitress, and returned to the conversation. “For me it was required, but I enjoyed it. I got the adrenalin rush from conquering increasingly hard routes. I’d probably still be doing it if I hadn’t lost much of my right leg. And they haven’t yet made osseointegrated prostheses that allow technical climbing. I’m lucky to have this advanced version.”
“I read what it takes to have an Endo-Exo-Femur Prosthesis installed. Sounds painful.”
“You have no idea. They inserted the titanium bracket into my femur – literally slicing my leg lengthwise. Over weeks, the bone grew into the porous titanium and fused with it. The pain’s worth it. Amputees I’ve spoken with want the EEFP over the socket prosthesis, though those with impaired immune systems would have a problem because of the seepage.”
“Did the military pay for it?”
“Are you kidding?!” He tried to keep a straight face. “No.... Too forward thinking and too expensive for them. I would have found a way to pay for it, but my dad picked up the cost, and the operations were done in Australia. The FDA hadn’t approved it in the US back then.”
“Do you recommend it to others?”
He nodded. “I believe the VA should be offering it to eligible war vets. This has so many advantages over the older strap-on suction cup prosthetics.”
She leaned forward at the table. Her voice purred, “Well I’m glad you did it, Honey. It says loads about your character.”
His lips slightly parted and he leaned in. “And what’s that?”
“That you won’t be limited in your goals. You will persevere. You move forward without complaining. The injury would have caused a lesser man to acquiesce.”
“Quitting isn’t in my nature.”
“So I’ve noticed!” She squeezed his hand.
“Anna, did you know you’re the best part of me?” His voice was soft and deep with the promise of velvet nights ahead.
She brushed his unshaven cheek and smiled. “I love you too, Pete...Now let’s order. I’m dying for trout almandine.” As they ate, the late afternoon winds drove moisture up above the tall peaks. This caused dark clouds to gather over the Rockies to the east, as they did almost every day this time of year. The evening lightning show had begun.
Chapter 37
August 25, 0800 hours
Grand Lake, CO
The trail wound up a steep mountain valley. Pete and Anna had started hiking early that morning up the Summerland Trail. Granite boulders sprouted among the spruce and lodge pole pine. The air smelled fresh and crisp, with the sharp scents of evergreen and the undertones of black earth. In places, the evergreens yielded to aspen trees, their leaves rattling distinctively in the breeze.
Pete’s arms were crossed and his left foot was tapping as Anna, distracted by a rare orchid, lay prone in front of the cream-colored plant. “Anna, how far do you intend to go? If you think my leg slows me down, you’re wrong. But if you keep stopping to take pictures, we won’t get to our picnic spot until it’s late.”
“Shhhhh. Darling, nev
er rush an artist.”
While her attention was elsewhere Pete stepped to small strands of Fuzz hanging on a tree branch. His brow knitted. How could it have traveled so far in less than two months? He carefully lifted off a feathery wisp and placed it on a large, flat rock. He used his high-def camera as a microscope to zoom in and analyze the three-dimensional structure.
There’s something different about this sample. It has a slight white tinge. He clicked some macro photos for later analysis and put the fragment into an empty sandwich baggie. At his next opportunity he’d send it to a friend at a USDA lab.
He chuckled at the vision of his elegant wife lying in the dirt unconcerned with appearances. Pete considered mentioning the sample but slipped the bag into his day pack instead. This isn’t the time to dampen her spirit. He began taking pictures of her in amusing positions. “When you get into something, you really commit, don’t you?”
She stood and smiled crookedly, “You’re beginning to understand me, aren’t you?”
Pete mimicked her smile. “Here, let me help you.” His hands slowly brushed dirt off the front of her shirt.
Her eyebrows rose along with the corners of her smile. “You’re enjoying this just a bit too much.” Her eyes lifted to a darkening sky and the smile flattened. “Honey, it’s early afternoon and the clouds are building up along the divide. We should return to the lodge...or get soaked.”
They almost made it before the deluge commenced. Arriving drenched at the lodge’s covered front porch, they wrapped in a tight embrace for a long kiss, as other guests rushed past.
Chapter 38
August 26, 0900 hours
Grand Lake, CO
An early morning fog shrouded the mountain valley. Pushing through the mist, their SUV wound up a switch-backed highway, finally emerging from the clouds into bright sunlight. The high peaks, still capped with snow, glinted brightly from the intense sunlight.
“Ever drive across this Rocky Mountain National Park divide road?” Pete asked while catching occasional glimpses of Anna’s hair cascaded over her shoulders and glowing with the morning sun.
