"What's in there?" Farbeaux asked, more than a little curious, especially since historically speaking, the mother lode of the Alaskan and Canadian gold rushes had never been discovered — the source of all that gold was still out there somewhere.
"It's wild, young man, more wild than you could ever believe. Just stay out of there. If your Russians go in there, rest assured that they are not coming back."
Jack, knowing that if his sister was in there, there was no way he wasn't going in after her. He looked at the black, hand-printed words embossed over the field of unbroken green that marked the area the old woman had shown them. Jack wrote the words down on his notes: THE CHULIMANTAN PLATEAU.
Not one of the men ever thought to ask the meaning of the Indian name that graced the valley and the rise of the large plateau. Collins heard the admonishment of the old woman, but paid her no mind.
"Don't go north of the Stikine."
8
After the supplies were organized and stacked, they placed them all in front of the porch. Collins then called everyone except Charlie Ellenshaw to the steps. He was inside looking over the map of the Stikine Valley and Plateau with the old woman. The girl, Marla, was watching the group from a distance, making sure their boxes of.306 ammunition was placed in a plastic pouch to keep river water from damaging them. Altogether, the girl and her grandmother had gathered nearly two hundred rounds for the hunting weapons, and another hundred fifty for the 5.62 millimeter automatics.
Everett took up position beside Collins, looking from face to face. The two officers had come to a decision an hour before, and Carl knew their news was not going to be well received. Farbeaux suspected what was coming because he had watched as the naval captain had cut the rations for their journey upriver almost by a quarter, and he had also tossed aside one of the tents.
"Ryan, you and McIntire are staying here."
"The hell you say," Sarah started to protest.
"No, no. You're not leaving us behind," Ryan said as he looked directly at Everett and not at Collins.
"At ease, Mr. Ryan, you'll do as are ordered," Carl said, making sure Sarah understood his anger, also.
"Look, we don't know what else is right here under our noses, and these people have gone through enough; we have to leave someone here in case they have a rerun of what happened today," Jack said, now looking directly at Sarah.
"Colonel, I would bet two months pay that that old woman could kick my ass three ways to Sunday, and the girl is far tougher than my last three bunkmates combined."
"This is not a negotiating session, Mr. Ryan. Will is a soldier; he's trained for what we do. Doc Ellenshaw, well, he's Doc Ellenshaw, and he has his reasons for being there, and we have reasons to take him. Punchy goes where I go and Colonel Farbeaux has his own reasons for being brave. You and McIntire have no reason for being on the river, but you have a big reason for watching out for things here. I want that RCMP chopper fixed if at all possible."
"Wait a minute, you know I'm not qualified on those damn things," Ryan protested.
Jack turned on him. "Damn it, Ryan, you know and I know you can fly one. Fix the damn thing in case we need to beat a hasty retreat out of this place. Do you understand, Mr. Ryan?"
Ryan didn't respond, he figured since he was in civilian dress, Jack didn't rate a salute, so he turned on his heel and reached for a small toolbox and then stormed off toward the damaged helicopter. Sarah meanwhile watched Jack, her eyes never leaving his. He waited for her to continue her argument, but instead she raised her right brow, which told Collins she was about to explode, and then turned and followed Ryan.
"They just hate being left—" Mendenhall started to explain.
"Not now, Lieutenant. Leave it," Jack said and turned on his heel and trotted up the steps. "Captain, organize Colonel Farbeaux, Mr. Alexander, and Mr. Bleeding Heart here, and get that boat loaded. I want to be on the river in thirty."
Everett and the others watched Jack leave and enter the store. Carl shrugged his shoulders and then turned toward the supplies.
"Come on, you bunch of pirates — the wonders of Mother Nature await."
* * *
The old woman watched the white-haired Charlie Ellenshaw study the map. He had a small notebook out and was jotting down his own information just as Collins had done earlier.
"Tell me, the acreage here." He was pointing to the northern most section of unexplored territory far above the Stikine. "How much animal life can that section support in your estimation?" Charlie scrunched up his nose and then turned to the old woman. "I mean, vegetation wise, berries, plants, elk, and deer?"
"You're kind of peculiar, aren't you? Hell, even as a youngster you were, all the way back in sixty-eight," she said instead of answering.
"Excuse me, madam?" Ellenshaw said pushing his thick glasses back up on his nose and looking the woman over.
"You didn't exactly grow into what you would call a male specimen in all those years, Charlie, so just what are you doing here? You're not like these others."
"You mean, Colonel Collins and Captain Everett? I think we make a pretty good team."
"You don't usually get out much, do you?" Helena said, nodding as if she wanted Ellenshaw to agree outright.
"I assure you, I am as field qualified as the next man in this group. I could tell you a story or two," Ellenshaw looked around and then caught himself before he broke his secrecy oath. "Just suffice it to say, I've been places and seen things that you wouldn't find in Kansas."
The old woman slapped Charlie on the shoulder, almost knocking the thin scientist into the large map. "Don't take offense, skinny, I was just funnin' ya' is all. Now, you asked about the vegetation and wildlife up in them parts, well, I'll tell you, Hindershot," she said, using Charlie's middle name that made him cringe inside. "There is enough roughage and game up there to support half of the African savanna. Now, why do you ask?"
Charlie quickly wrote down her information. "Oh, no reason, just a scientist curiosity."
"You're as poor a liar as you are at gunplay, Hindershot Ellenshaw. The colonel's lookin' for his sis, and that French fella, well, let's just say he has the look of a man with another agenda, and the others — well, to this old woman's eye, you can tell they would follow that colonel man into hell if they had to, but you, you are here for something else, aren't you?"
"Madam, I assure you, I am only here to assist the colonel in the task of finding his sister."
A stern, motherly look came to the husky woman's countenance.
"You hear me good, Hindershot, don't go lookin' for something you shouldn't be lookin' for; that something could jump right up and bite you and whoever's with you right in your asses. Some places weren't meant for people, and that area you're askin' about is one of them. You were there once; stay by the river, and you just might make it back to your lavatory," she said with not an ounce of humor.
"You mean, laboratory, and I again assure you—"
"Doc, that's enough. Why don't you go help the others load up?"
Charlie turned to see Collins standing by the counter with his hands on his hips; he didn't look happy at all.
"Yes, Colonel."
Jack watched the professor leave and then rubbed his eyes.
"Ma'am, there isn't another phone nearby? A radio?" he asked as he looked at her with his now red eyes.
"No, there's no phone lines this far out. We're on our own until the fishermen come back in two days."
"I'm leaving lieutenants McIntire and Ryan behind to assist just in case."
"Colonel, we've not needed babysitting in our many years here on the Stikine; it's others who need to take care."
"I understand, but, well, the small woman, Miss McIntire…"
"She'll be safe here," the old woman said, knowing what he was going to say because of the intense look in his blue eyes. "There is one thing I remember my granddaughter said about some of them Russian's equipment. She said they had what she thought was some kind of electron
ics, a lot of it, and some heavy firepower, so you best be careful and not run into another ambush."
"Electronics?"
"That's what she said. Anyway, good luck, Colonel. We'll send help upriver as soon as we can," she said, holding her large hand out for the American. "And we'll make sure nothing happens to your two lieutenants."
"Thank you, ma'am." Jack started to turn but was stopped by the woman's powerful grip.
"Mind me here, Colonel Collins, stay out of them woods north of the river. I think maybe you should let them Russian boys look for what they came for, because in the long run, the result will be the same, so get your baby sis out of there and come back and leave them murdering sons-a-bitches to their own devices."
Jack's hand was finally released, thoroughly confused by the large woman's last remarks. As he left the store, he stopped and watched the camp around him. The supplies were almost loaded and he looked up to see Sarah standing at the bottom of a small ladder, holding it steady while her eyes were burning a hole through him. Ryan was busy taking out his frustrations on the engine cowling of the RCMP helicopter.
He shook his head and started down the steps when he saw the breeze bring the trees to life again around the fishing camp. He stopped walking and looked around. He was totally confused as to why the sound and movement of the trees made him uncomfortable — it was primal in nature and it was if he and the others were not only being watched, but that whoever was watching was a danger. He took a step and then felt eyes on him. He stopped and turned and saw the old woman standing in the doorway. She wasn't looking at him. She was also watching the trees, while wiping her hands on her long leather skirt. Her eyes finally looked at Jack, and then she turned away and entered the store, the darkness inside swallowing her up.
THE STIKINE RIVER (THE PLATEAU)
Lynn Simpson stood at the edge of the river and stared at the woods across the way. The late afternoon was still filled with brilliant sunlight as it dappled off the fast-moving Stikine. Her eyes roamed over to ten of the Russians as they uncrated several small devices that had been encased in Styrofoam. Of these, one very large and powerful man loaded a small rifle. It was short, and the barrel was wide and fat. He attached one of the small, round objects they had just uncrated and then attached a short pole to it. He then rammed the pole into the weaponlike device and raised it to his shoulder. He pulled the trigger and there was the sound of a compressed air blast that sent the object hurtling over the Stikine until it disappeared three hundred yards into the trees. The large man continued until six of the rounded objects had been sent across and deep into the far woods at about four hundred yards' separation.
As she watched this strange delivery method of equipment, other men started sitting up a large tent and they began filling it with small consoles that sat upon tables, while others began digging a large pit. Soon, they pieced together a small generator and placed it into the hole. They soon had it covered with large branches cut from the trees, surrounding the camp forming a weatherproof cover for the generator.
That morning they had traveled more than seventy miles upriver, arriving at a large bend that actually started to turn south on the eastern side. Now, instead of crossing onto the north side of the Stikine, the Russian leader, Sagli, had made camp on the southern shore, for what reason Lynn couldn't fathom. Thus far, he had kept his distance from her as he supervised what looked to be their final camping spot.
Lynn became more curious as a large, fifty-foot-tall antennae was raised just outside of the large blue tent where all the sophisticated equipment had been setup. When they had the guy wires in place and taut, the men went about setting up their tents and then after that it actually looked as if they were preparing defensive fire pits around the camp. As she admired the efficiency of the developing base of operations, she saw Sagli with a set of papers. He was looking from them and then surveying the woods around them, even looking up and out across the river a few times. He was deep into thought. That was when Lynn decided to approach the ponytailed Russian.
"Since I am more than likely going to remain behind when you leave here, maybe I can learn what it is you are looking for?"
Sagli didn't even look up from the papers he held in his hands. "These are copies of the Lattimer note and a description of this area as written by a Russian colonel long ago in 1918 that we received from our friend—" Sagli caught himself before he disclosed something he swore never to divulge. "In them, this colonel describes the area where he had left two wagons full of gold. I am now in the process of correlating his description with the area I have chosen to begin the search."
"It would seem to me you would be looking for an area against the plateau and not out in the open like you are, that is if it is gold you are looking for."
"Observant, Ms. Simpson; however, that is not our purpose here." He finally lowered the papers and looked the beautiful woman over. "I have found the landmarks described in the letters, it is right over there across the river. Do you see the rise of the plateau about a mile and a half into the woods?"
"Yes," she said as she held her bandaged hand to her eyes to shield them against the setting sun."
"The three largest veins of limestone running horizontally down its face, that is the only such variant that comes close to what Lattimer and this Russian colonel had described. His find has to be nearby." Sagli looked at Lynn and then seemed to decide something. He reached into his right pants pocket and brought out a small plastic case. He opened it and removed a large gold coin. "Do you know what this is?" he asked, handing it over to her.
Lynn turned the heavy coin over in her hand. The gold was cool to the touch and, of course, she recognized it immediately. "It's an American-minted gold double eagle, circa 1891. Value in today's gold market at about nine hundred fifty dollars, give or take ten dollars. If memory serves me correctly, the twenty-dollar gold piece weighs approximately.9675 ounces of pure gold."
"I am astounded at your knowledge of such mundane things as gold, Ms. Simpson, truly amazed."
"We have to be up on the markets for terrorism purposes, that fact shouldn't surprise you that much."
"Nonetheless, you are correct. And somewhere out there is two wagons full of them and we are now here to find those wagons' resting place."
Lynn could sense the lie coming from Sagli's mouth. At first, she thought he was telling the truth, but it was in the way he quickly turned away from her that undid him. She was trained to see the small of a lie, when a larger one would have been hidden the truth better. She had also noticed that among the copies Sagli was examining, there was one that stood out. It was a computer-generated letter that had English language written upon it, and she saw the header; it was from the NSA — the National Security Agency of her own country.
"And no one since this Lattimer guy has ever looked for it?" she asked, trying to keep him talking and eyeing the papers, trying to see more of the NSA printout he held.
Sagli turned back to face her; at the same time he reached out and took the heavy double eagle from her hand and replaced it in the plastic case.
"As a matter of fact, this coin was found nearby back in 1968."
"And all of this stems from a Russian diary from 1918?"
"Yes, that was the starting point for Lattimer, when he found the rotting diary along this very point of the river, possibly at this very spot."
Lynn couldn't help but smile. "And you, being the wealthiest man in Russia, you decide to throw it all away for a treasure hunt, one that wouldn't even be a decimal point in advantage to that wealth? No, Mr. Sagli, I don't buy it, just like my agency won't swallow that load of bull. What are you really looking for?"
Sagli smiled. This time the humor went all the way to his eyes, which was far more unsettling to Lynn than when it hadn't.
"We are looking for the gold, and it is a far more valuable commodity than you or your agency is aware of."
Lynn watched Sagli walk away and then stride into the large tent. She followed
at a slower pace as to not attract the attention of the men she knew had been assigned to watch her. As she stepped to the side of the unzippered flap, she leaned in and saw that Sagli was listening to the right side of a headset, and as he held the radio link up, he absentmindedly tossed the coin onto the large table that held the radio. As she examined that table, she saw small pieces of twisted metal lying next to even more of the gold coins. Before she could see the twisted shards of black painted metal closer, a large hand grabbed her arm and turned her around. She came face to face with Gregori Deonovich. He was wild haired and dirty. Several of the camps men were pulling the Zodiac he had arrived in up the bank of the river. Deonovich roughly pushed Lynn into the tent.
Sagli lowered the headphones, and saw his partner and the angry expression he had on his filthy face. Deonovich raised a hand and then brought it down across the face of the American woman. Lynn fell to the nylon floor of the tent and then received a kick from the much larger man.
"Brother, brother, what is the matter with you, we were just trying to contact your team, what happened?" Sagli said, grabbing Deonovich and staying the next kick he had already drawn back to deliver to Lynn.
"Someone is tracking this woman. An aircraft we thought was nothing more than fishermen opened fire on us from the air." He turned to face Sagli. "They took out my entire team." He suddenly stopped and then pulled Sagli to the back of the tent, angrily ordering some of the technicians away.
Lynn wiped blood from her mouth and then rubbed her ribs where the big boot had landed squarely. Then she saw the animated way Deonovich was talking to Sagli. Lynn could see by the large man's body language that it wasn't just the reverse ambush of his men, it was something else. Sagli turned away and closed his eyes. Then he turned back angrily.
"Was he killed?" he asked.
Deonovich looked from his partner to Lynn, then he stepped forward and once more removed Sagli from earshot. He whispered something and then let go of his arm.
"Still, would it not have been more prudent to allow the aircraft to land before opening fire on it? That way you would have at least known who was on it. Now we have lost men we cannot replace and you have also left a now obvious enemy in our rear."
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